“Come on,” I urge the cell phone in my hand. “Ring.”

Nothing. The blasted thing remains silent.

My head falls back against the pillows and I take a deep breath. “Just because no one has called it doesn’t mean something bad has happened,” I tell myself. “After all, no news is good news.”

Saying the words out loud doesn’t make them sound any more believable. Nor does it stop a flood of various images, each more horrible than the last, from assailing my imagination.

I twist the ring round my finger. Touching it makes me feel closer to Paul.

Someone knocks on the door, but before I can respond, it swings open, revealing the face I most want to see.

“Paul!”

“Lara.” His voice is hoarse, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing I care about is that he’s here. And that he’s in one piece.

He hurries across the room, barely taking the time to sit on the side of the bed before pulling me into his arms and covering my mouth with his.

God, he feels so good!

“Are you hurt?” I ask when we part for air.

I run my hands over his body, partly to check for injuries, but also in a desperate attempt to convince myself that he’s real and not a figment of my imagination.

His own hands sink to my body, covering my lower stomach. “I’m fine, just some bumps and bruises.”

“Liar.” I reach up, touching the gashes at the base of his throat. “These aren’t bruises or bumps.” I draw my hand back, showing him the bright red blood staining my fingertips.

“That’s nothing a band-aid won’t fix.” He takes my hand and uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the blood away. “What about you?” His hands shake against mine. “Liam said you fell.” His voice catches and he has a difficult time getting the next words out. “That something is wrong with the baby.”

“Yes and no,” I tell him. “I did fall, and I landed on my stomach. Since I didn’t know what to do, I called 911 and had them bring me right here. Dr. Henson did an ultrasound and said everything looks good, that the heartbeat is still strong. But she’s running some extra tests just to be sure.”

Paul’s shoulders sag with relief.

“She does want me to stay here.” I look around the room. While I hadn’t planned on spending Christmas Day in a fertility clinic, I’m so happy that Paul and the baby are safe that I can’t bring myself to care. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Paul pulls me close to his side and holds me like he’s never going to let me go. “Mind? Right now there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

Anxiety spikes in my gut. “I don’t like your tone.”

“It’s Atticus.” Paul sounds as if he’s about to cry and my heart clenches. I brace myself for the worst.

“He saved my life.”

Tears fill my eyes.

“He’s alive,” Paul hurries to tell me. “But he’s hurt. I don’t know how badly. One of the nurses insisted he stay here. She arranged to get him x-rayed, while your cop friend, Liam, picks up a vet.”

“Who’s already here.” Liam walks into the room and smiles at us. “Nice guy. Your dog broke his leg in two spots, but the vet thinks he can pin it. Your Dr. Henson is going to assist during the surgery. She seems really excited about it. There are some other injuries, but the vet seemed confident that he’ll live.”

I smile. Strange. Just a few minutes ago I was scared to death, convinced that my whole world had fallen apart. But now, Paul’s here, Atticus is being cared for, and my baby is safe. My heart is so full of love and happiness, it feels like it could burst.

“Anyway, the dog update is just one of the reasons I’m here,” Liam says. “The other is to let you know that I’ve been touch with headquarters. The driver, Matilda Hopkins, died on the scene. James DeWitt is in surgery and the doctors think he’ll survive. We have Raymond, who is Matilda’s son, in custody right now. He managed to assault three offices before we got him subdued.”

“What was the treasure Raymond was talking about before Atticus bit him?” Paul asks.

“In addition to having temper issues, Raymond is also drowning in gambling debts. Loan sharks have already taken everything they own. Desperate for money, they remembered that one of their ancestors owned the bank that Lara converted into her bar. It seems that there’s some kind of legend about their relative hiding a treasure somewhere inside.” Liam rubs his hands together as he gets into the story. “Using a series of stolen cars, they made their way from Maryland to Chicago, thinking that the building was abandoned and that they’d break in and find the treasure. What they didn’t know is that you were already there. Being dim bulbs, they figured that all it would take was a few threatening letters and some graffiti to scare you into signing the deed over to them. Or at the very least, get you out of there long enough so that they could break in and search for buried treasure.”

Paul stares at Liam. “That’s about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“These folks didn’t climb very high on the evolutionary ladder,” Liam explains with a shrug.

“And why did they take Paul?” I ask.

“Because they’re idiots,” Liam says.

“I don’t think they planned on kidnapping me,” Paul adds. “I think it was a crime of opportunity. When they saw me walking by myself, they decided to grab me and hold me for ransom, which was going to be the deed to your building.”

“Seriously?”

Paul nods. “They figured you’d be so hysterical, you’d sign it over rather than call the cops.”

I snort. “They thought wrong.”

“None of them will be bothering you ever again.” Liam stands and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to head on over to the station, see if there’ve been any new developments.” He claps a brotherly hand to Paul’s shoulder. “Glad everything worked out the way it did. I’ll remember your little dog in my prayers tonight. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Paul and I call out in unison as he leaves the room, closing the door as he goes.

A wide smile splitting his face, Paul turns back to me. “So—” He lifts my hand and feathers a light kiss to the back of it as his thumb brushes across the ring. “I assume, since you’re wearing this enormous rock, that the answer is yes.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and smile impishly at him. “The answer to what?”

His eyes narrow. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

I tug my hand out of his and loop my arms around his neck. “I want to hear it.”

His hands settle against at my waist. His thumbs stroke my stomach through the hospital gown I’m wearing.

“Lara Reynolds. I love you.” I don’t know why, but the combination of his tone and his expression sends my heart leaping into my throat while tears burn my eyes. “I love everything about you, including your ridiculous-looking dog. I want to spend the rest of my life doing whatever it takes to make you the happiest woman in the world, but in order for that to happen, I need you to agree to be my wife. So, will you marry me?”

My heart explodes with love. “Oh God, yes, as soon as possible.” I lean forward, capturing his mouth in a soul-searing kiss just as the clock strikes midnight.

Christmas Day has dawned.