One Night with Morelli(84)

                ‘I’ve just got some charts to bring up to date and I’ll make the little one comfortable. Why don’t you go for a break with your man? It can be really hard on them, you know, the ones who keep tight hold of their emotions. The little one won’t be alone—I’ll be right in here or out by the desk.’ She nodded through the glass panel where the nurses’ station and its constantly ringing telephone was sited.

                Eve stood there for a moment and then nodded, smiling her thanks before blowing her brother a kiss.

                Still struggling with the white gown, which appeared to come in only one size—massive—she caught up with Draco outside the parents’ lounge, coming out of the door, not into it.

                ‘Aren’t you…?

                He turned his head and looked at her, and Eve forgot what she was saying; she forgot everything except that he was the most gorgeous man on the planet, the shape of his face, his eyes, his lips, the scar…everything! It seemed unbelievable that there had been moments when she had convinced herself that they were better off apart. When she wasn’t lying to herself she had been literally aching for the sound of his voice.

                She was aching now, for more than his voice.

                She took a deep breath. It was her turn. She leapt into the unknown and the words came in a rush, falling over one another to get out of her mouth before she changed her mind and chickened out.

                ‘When you walked away that day, I felt as if you’d taken a bit of me with you.’ She lifted her hand, intending to press it to her heart to illustrate the empty space and let out a squeal of sheer frustration as the tie on the gown responded to her impatient tugs by tightening painfully around her neck. ‘Oh, God!’ she groaned in a mixture of frustration and discomfort. ‘Can you give me a hand here? This thing is trying to strangle me…I can’t reach.’ Holding the neckline, she couldn’t lift her head to look at him without it digging into her neck and she let out another squeal of frustration.

                ‘Stay still.’

                It was hard to read anything in his voice and his fingers were steady as they brushed the skin of her nape. Eve wasn’t steady at all; she was shaking and even the lightest touch sent electric shudders through her helplessly receptive body.

                ‘Done.’

                Eve kept her head down as she pulled her arm out of the sleeve. ‘I have terrible timing,’ she mumbled as she finally rid herself of the garment.

                His lazy laugh was warm and husky. ‘I have always found your timing impeccable.’

                She lifted her gaze, wanting to see in his face what she had heard in his voice, but it wasn’t there.

                Nothing was there. His face was pale and strangely stiff, his unblinking stare was fixed on…? She glanced downwards.

                Realising as she did so that she was wearing her pyjamas, as she had only had time to pull on a pair of boots and throw a thin jacket over the top.

                ‘It might not catch on,’ she admitted ruefully, ‘but I was in bed when I got the…’ Her voice trailed away as it hit her that it wasn’t her clothes he was staring at, it was her. Or more specifically the small but definite bump of her belly. For weeks it had been the subject that had dominated her every waking moment and now of all times—she had forgotten.

                Slowly, very slowly, her eyes left the soft curve of her belly and when they reached his face they were wide and wary, but there was still nothing to see in his face—nothing. In all her scenarios there had definitely been an explosion…not this…this nothing!