Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(57)

“Yeah,” he murmured distractedly. “That’s understandable.” He started in surprise when he felt a tiny nudge on his abs. He looked down to where their midsections couldn’t help but touch. “Did he just kick? I could have sworn he just gave me one for insulting his old man.”

She patted her belly, looking proud. And ill.

“Are you okay, Eva? You had a busy day today.”

“I’m good.” She pinned a smile and animatedly gave him the short version of her day.

Call him a dick, but he couldn’t help but think she’d overdone things. No wonder G kept glaring at her.

As inconspicuously as he could, he danced them through the crowd. By the time they were a few feet away from Gabriel, Alek could clearly see a sheen of sweat on Eva’s forehead, and she had a steady tremble running through her limbs. He locked eyes with her husband and gave him a severe frown as he tipped his chin down at Eva. Gabriel was beside them before he could blink.

“All done?” he said, gently extracting her.

“Yes.” Eva moved straight into her husband’s embrace. She appeared almost intoxicated. “I think he’s good now.”

“Hey, did you drink the juice I brought you earlier? Or eat the fruit Jak left at the table?” Jak pulled a chair over so Gabriel could place her in it. They were against the wall, so at least they were out of the way of any foot-traffic. G squatted in front of her and bobbed his head to hold her swinging gaze.

She was taking those deep breaths again. “Forgot. I think— Uh, I had— Dunno. I feel weak,” she murmured, her voice faint. “And shaky. Really shaky. I hate this.”

As a few people craned their necks to watch, Quan disappeared with a quiet curse. Alek felt alarmingly clueless until he heard Gabriel’s next question.

“Did you bring your glucose meter? Eva? Did you remember to bring it?”

Before she could answer, Quan was back with a small black evening purse and a tall glass of orange juice. He shoved the bag at Gabriel and carefully took Eva’s hand to curl her fingers around the glass. He held it with her because the shake in her arm would have had the liquid sloshing over the rim. She took a drink.

“Another,” Quan directed as Gabriel withdrew the needed supplies from Eva’s purse and pricked the pad of her pinkie on her free hand.

She had more juice. “I can do that, Gabriel. Just give me a second to get my head on right.”

“Is everything okay, sir?”

Quan looked up at the older woman when she was ignored by everyone else. She was dressed the same as the other staff but had a nametag that marked her as a manager.

“Her sugar is low. She’ll be fine in a few minutes. Thanks for your concern.”

“Jesus Christ.” Gabriel raised his head from reading the monitor, his eyes clouded with fear and anger. The manager left without another word, as did the few people who’d been trying to see around the wall of muscle surrounding the patient. Guess diabetes wasn’t interesting enough to linger over. Or maybe it was Gabriel’s attitude that caused them to scatter. He was glaring at his wife as he tapped the juice glass for Quan to raise it again. He put the meter back into her bag.

“Three-point-eight, Eva?” he gritted out, his jaw set and locked. “You can consider this your notice. You’ve just been locked out of your office until we get a fucking handle on this.” He muttered a few curses under his breath, switching to Italian, but despite his upset, his big hand was nothing but tender as it stroked the side of her belly.

“I think you must be rubbing off on him.” In direct contrast to Gabriel’s, Quan’s tone was soothing as he tipped the glass at her lips again. “If you weren’t loopy, you might even be proud of him because his reaction is dialed way down. One more. That’s a girl.” Eva didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him—her loosely focused eyes were on Gabriel. “Though I suppose we shouldn’t praise him until we make it to the car and all the witnesses have disappeared, hmm? All done. Good girl.” He placed the empty glass on the table and looked at the Patek Philippe on his wrist. “Couple more minutes and you’ll be good as new.”

“Move it, Nurse Betty,” Gabriel grumbled as he rose and rather affectionately elbowed Quan out of the way. He leaned in, and without much effort, lifted his wife from the chair. He curled her into his chest, and if there was anything that would have proven Eva wasn’t herself, it was her allowing her husband to carry her out of a room filled with women she dealt with on a professional level every day. She didn’t make a peep. She simply laid her head on that block of a shoulder and closed her eyes—trusting she’d be cared for. It was a beautiful sight.