One Night, So Pregnant!(48)

‘Tess, what’s wrong?’ He flung open the door to the bedroom, but the room was empty, the quilt on the bed smooth and the pile of cushions neatly stacked against the headboard.

Panic shot down his spine and his heartbeat pounded against his ribcage. ‘Tess, answer me.’

He heard the groan again followed by a weak ‘I’m fine.’ And shot into the bathroom. His heart stopped cold. Tess stood doubled over the toilet, one arm wrapped around her midriff.

He rushed to her as she straightened and sent him a weak smile. ‘Nate, you’re early.’

‘Tess, what the hell’s going on?’ He scraped the hair back from her face, with both hands, cupped her cheeks. She looked exhausted and so fragile. ‘Is it the baby? Are you okay?’

She covered his hand, then drew away and turned to flush the toilet. ‘Of course. It’s just a bit of morning sickness.’

He let his hands drop, the panic finally receding. ‘But it’s six o’clock in the evening!’ He bit down on his frustration. He’d never felt more impotent in his life. How could she sound so matter-of-fact when she’d been retching so much?

She gave a weak laugh and crossed to the sink to pick up her toothbrush. ‘The baby doesn’t seem to be a very good time-keeper. It doesn’t usually hit this late in the day though.’

The frustration shot up another notch as she brushed her teeth. He waited for her to finish, and for his blood pressure to ease out of the danger zone. But as she edged past him, making for the bathroom door, he took her arm gently, needing to hold her, needing to feel the strength in her body despite the hollowed-out look in her eyes.

‘Wait a minute,’ he said, the full import of her words finally sinking into his numbed brain. ‘Usually? You mean you’ve been sick before?’

‘Only a few times,’ she said, shrugging off his hand. ‘It’s perfectly normal.’

Not for me.

He followed her down the corridor. ‘How many times?’

He caught up with her in the kitchen, but her gaze flickered away from his, and he knew it was more than a few times. ‘Damn it, Tess, why the hell didn’t you tell me?’

Her eyes met his at last and she sent him a weary smile. ‘Do you think we could have this argument another time? I’m feeling a bit...’ The words trailed off as the colour drained from her cheeks.

He swore softly as she swayed and he scooped her up into his arms. ‘It’s all right. I’ve got you.’

‘Nate, put me down,’ she protested, but she didn’t struggle much as he carried her into the living room. ‘I’m fine.’

He sat down heavily on the couch, holding her easily in his lap. ‘Yeah, well I’m not,’ he muttered, relieved to see the colour coming back, bright pink flags flying high on her cheeks.

How hilarious was that? he thought ruefully as he ran a finger over the warm skin and watched the blush intensify. Every time he’d come over before now, they’d been ripping each other’s clothes off almost as soon as he’d got through the door. They’d eaten the take-out cold every time, their appetite for each other much more insatiable than their appetite for food. But there’d been no evidence of any embarrassment when he’d stripped her naked, when he did things to her body that made her sob with pleasure and beg for release. And now, now because he’d caught her retching, her cheeks were brighter than the Pigeon Point Lighthouse.

‘Really, I’m fine, Nate, you’re making a fuss about nothing.’ She tried to wriggle off his lap, but he let his hands slide down to her waist and held her firmly.

‘Stay still,’ he murmured, keeping his voice light. ‘You just scared ten years off my life. I need a moment, okay.’

He clamped down hard on the urge to yell at her. She hadn’t told him about the sickness, because of that damned independence of hers. But then he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t even bothered to find out what would be happening to her body in the months ahead. Because he’d been way too busy enjoying her body in the here and now. But all that was about to change. This wasn’t just about the benefits, it was also about their friendship. He’d be taking a lot better care of her, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

Tess tried to laugh at the sober look on his face, but it sounded forced. Then he pressed his forehead to hers, let his thumbs wander across her waist and settle in the indent of her hips. She felt the tiny pulse of heat at her core, the nausea and weakness finally retreating. But as he continued to caress in slow circles she struggled to ignore the possessiveness of the gesture. She swallowed past the foolish lump forming in her throat when he lifted his head, his eyes dark with concern.