Eva unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth. The sugar rush made her head spin, but in a good way. "How did you know I couldn't eat breakfast?"
"The same way I know I can't eat it,' Sienna said. "You're pregnant."
Twelve
Kyle's gaze flashed to hers, his expression unexpectedly grim. "Eva?"
"I can't be." She shouldn't be.
Possibilities flashed through her mind, a mixture of joy and dread, with the dread coming out on top. She wanted no part of the grief and death that had disintegrated her family. As much as she would adore to be a mother, she could not be pregnant.
A chill went through her at the thought of what a pregnancy would do to Kyle. After years grieving for his wife and child, Eva giving birth to a child that would most probably die would literally make him relive the nightmare of his past.
Eva shook her head, regretting the sharp movements almost immediately. "I am not pregnant. No way."
She smiled brightly at Sienna, and Constantine, who was regarding her in a thoughtful way that made her wonder if he could see something she couldn't. Sucking in a breath to stop the roiling in her stomach, she called on the years of acting classes she'd taken, smiled and pushed to her feet. Luckily, thanks to the sugar, she was steady.
Relief and renewed confidence steadied her even more. "See, I'm not pregnant, just hungry."
And to prove it, she would do the one thing she had been shying away from doing as a double check that the morning-after pill had worked-she would use the pregnancy test she had bought and which was still in her handbag.
It would be negative: it had to be. Relieved that she had successfully dealt with the whole idea that she might be pregnant with a child that would most likely die, and which would break both her heart and Kyle's, she forced another smile. "I feel fine now. Really."
Kyle took her arm as they strolled back into the church to a smattering of applause and began their progress down the aisle. "Do you usually skip meals?"
"Only when I'm trying to get married on a twelve-day schedule."
"Have you done a pregnancy test?"
Eva smiled at an elderly Atraeus aunt. "Not yet, but I have one...just to confirm that I'm not pregnant." They stepped out into the vestibule. A cold breeze drifted in, making her shiver.
Briskly, she decided that discussing the whole situation about sex would have to wait until they cleared up the murky area of a pregnancy. "Getting pregnant the first time we made love would be huge bad luck," she muttered. "About as likely as lightning striking the same place, twice."
Lightning flickered as they paused at the top of the church steps.
Kyle inspected the now darkened sky. "What was that you were saying about lightning?"
Her reply was drowned by a crack of thunder, and a split second later the heavens opened. Rain poured down in a heavy gray torrent, drenching the photographer Eva had commissioned. Kyle pulled Eva back into the shelter of the foyer as the photographer collapsed his tripod, flung his coat over his precious equipment and ran for his car.
Lightning flashed again, although it was sheet lightning, she consoled herself, not the jagged fork lightning that would have been an uncanny reminder of the night they had first made love.
* * *
Luckily, there was a second venue for the photographs. After twenty minutes of snapping wedding shots at the photographer's studio, Eva dismissed the limousine driver and climbed into Kyle's Maserati.
When they pulled into the driveway of the house, which was lined with guests' cars, the extent of the storm damage was clear. A heavy gust of wind had obviously lifted a corner pole of the marquee clear out of the ground, collapsing half of the tent. The caterer's van was parked near the back door entrance, which opened into the kitchen, so he had clearly made a decision to operate from the house.
Appalled, Eva didn't wait for Kyle, but popped her door open. Dragging her skirts up, she dashed through the rain, which had dropped to a soaking drizzle, making a beeline for the kitchen entrance. As she stepped into the kitchen, which thankfully was a hive of activity and awash with lovely scents, she kept repeating the mantra that in the wedding planning business disasters happened, the thing was to have a backup plan.
Once she was satisfied that the canapés and champagne were already served and that the simple summer picnic menu she'd settled on would go ahead, just inside, she walked through into the sitting room just in time to see Kyle step through the front door. There was a thin smattering of applause, which quickly died away when the guests realized that Kyle was on his own.
Taking a deep breath to control the automatic tension and outright fear that hit her every time she considered that she could be pregnant, Eva claimed Kyle's arm. Calling on all of her acting skills, she accepted congratulations, which had been cut short at the church, and when she got the chance grabbed a glass of sparkling water and nibbled on canapés.
Kyle lifted a brow at her water. "No champagne?"
Eva immediately caught his drift. If she were pregnant, she would be avoiding all alcohol. Heat flushed her cheeks, along with another sharp jab of panic. She forced a smile and tried to keep things light. "Habit. I don't usually drink at all, I don't have a head for it, and I usually only ever drink sparkling water at weddings."
They were interrupted by Constantine, who had made himself the unofficial MC. After toasts and speeches, a late lunch was served. By that time, the summer squall had passed and the sun had come out. Jacinta, who had taken control of the indoor service, opened the French doors and dried off the outdoor furniture.
Kyle and his brothers carried over the tables from the wrecked marquee, which was now steaming in the heat; guests moved out onto the patio.
Zane Atraeus, Constantine's youngest brother, styled himself the unofficial bartender, and so the day took on a shape that kept putting a lump in Eva's throat. The things she had expected to go right had crashed and burned, but the unexpected presence of her Atraeus cousins, who had come a long way for her, gave her something unutterably precious; for the first time she truly felt part of her own family.
When she saw Carla, the wife of Lucas, who was the third Atraeus brother, struggling to eat salad from a plate while she held her baby boy in her lap, Eva set her own plate aside and offered to hold him.
With David in her lap, contentedly chewing on a teething ring, and listening to Carla chat about the alterations she and Lucas were making to their house in Sydney, she slowly relaxed. Although, holding David, the urgent question of whether she was pregnant or not kept resurfacing. As she talked interior decorating loves and hates with Carla, she determined that she would take the pregnancy test as soon as she got a few minutes to herself.
Kyle, who was caught in a cluster of aunts who were obviously grilling him, caught her gaze, his own ironic. The small moment in the midst of the noisy gathering was oddly heartwarming. Since the tension that had arisen over the question of a pregnancy, she and Kyle had not had one private moment together.
After the cutting of the cake, which was a pretty selection of cupcakes iced with white chocolate icing and pink sugar rosebuds and arranged in tiers, with one large cake on the top tier, someone put on a classical waltz.
Kyle held out his hand. "They're playing our song."
Eva set her plate down, pleased to do so, even though the cake was delicious. The faint nausea, which had continued, was spelling a death knell to her hopes. "I hadn't planned on dancing."
He shrugged as he drew her close, his hand warm at her waist. "It's a Medinian tradition," he said, referring to the Mediterranean island from which the Messena and Atraeus families had originated.
She inhaled, catching the clean scent of his skin edged with a tantalizing whiff of a cologne that was now heart-wrenchingly familiar. Feeling suddenly absurdly fragile and as if she had to soak up scents and sights and sounds before everything came to pieces, she placed her hand on Kyle's shoulder. Their closeness shunted her back to their night together and the shattering intimacy of lying in bed with Kyle. She could still remember the way he had smelled and felt and tasted-the way he had made her feel.
She concentrated on keeping her expression smooth and serene as heat from every point of contact zinged through her. As they began to dance to a well-known waltz by Strauss, desperate to distract herself from sensations that were just a little too intense, she breathlessly asked, "What did the aunts say?"