Chapter 5
“I always love his room!” Kelly exclaimed as she glided into the sunshine yellow solarium with the lush green plants lining one side of the wall. A dome like ceiling admitted the pale light from the sun struggling to break through the dark overhanging clouds.
Sofas, unmatched with padded cushions done in yellow, greens, russet and gold were strewn all over and placed for comfort instead of style. Books lined one wall, and a glass partition offered a spectacular view of the patio where flowers were blooming under the protection of a canvas.
“It was designed by Beau’s mom.” Georgie greeted her friends with brief hugs. “Mrs. Greene already has refreshments waiting.” She waved to a table in front of the sofa.
“Not that we minded having the meeting here, but Monique wanted to be part of it,” Leesa murmured as she took her seat on one of the sofas.
“I am sorry, but I was not feeling up to going out today.” After Beau left, she had started feeling dizzy and had gone back to bed for a bit. She had not called him of course, because he would start worrying and insist on her canceling the meeting.
“Hon, you do look a little peaked.” Leesa peered at her anxiously. “I hope you aren’t coming down with the dreaded flu. Brad was in bed for two days and we all know when men have even a slight sniffle, how helpless they can get.”
“It’s not the flu.” Georgie had debated whether or not to tell her friends the good news. It was still early days yet and she did not want to jinx it, but these two women and several others were her friends. If she told them not to say anything, they would keep it to themselves.
“I am going to tell you something that is just between us.”
Kelly’s eyes went wide. “Oh goodness! You are pregnant.”
“What?” Leesa screeched, springing out of her chair and running over to sit next to the younger woman. “You are?”
“Yes.” She beamed. “IVF.”
“You really went through it.” Kelly shook her head. “How are you? And what does Beau have to say about all of this?”
“I am fine. I was feeling a little dizzy this morning, but it’s not too bad now. Beau is–”She spread her hands wide. “Well, he is trying to be on board, but he is worried.”
Her expression sobered. “I don’t have to tell you that I am in for a rough road. I might be carrying multiples.”
“Honey, I had twins, and it was no picnic. But it was worth it,” Leesa told her with a wide smile.
Georgie pressed a hand on her stomach. “I am hoping for triplets.”
Her friends stared at her in consternation.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
She looked at Kelly and shrugged. “I might not have a say in it. I want children. Beau does not understand why this is so important to me, but I want so much to be a mother.” “Men are clueless when it comes to parenting.”
Kelly abandoned her place by the bookcase and came over to sit on a plush chair near to the other two women. “I knew without a doubt that it was time to hang up my stilettos and become a mother and I never regretted it.”
“It was the same for me,” Leesa admitted dreamily. “I left my modeling without looking back.”
“Beau is concerned, and he has his doubts. He wanted us to wait, but I couldn’t. I had to do this.”
“How soon will you know if you are carrying triplets?”
“In a few weeks and until then, I am supposed to take it easy.”
“We could take over some of your activities.” Leesa suggested
“I will let you know the ones I am not able to honor. I promised the doctors and Beau that I would do everything I am told. We had a huge fight some weeks ago and I want to avoid anything like that happening again. But oh girls! I am so excited!”
“We are excited for you darling.” Kelly told her with a grin.
*****
“Your wife shines like the noonday sun,” Conrad Daley murmured as he sipped his after-dinner drink. “She lights up an entire room. You are a lucky man, Beau.”
“I am aware.” He strove to keep the harshness from his voice. He had watched the man flirting with Georgie for almost the entire evening and trying to monopolize her attention. Georgie did her best to deflect his attention without being overtly rude and Beau admired her restraint.
“If she was mine, I would not leave her an inch.” He grinned that reptilian smile of his as he watched Georgie talking to Blake and several others. “She is ravishing.’
“You are neglecting your own wife,” Beau pointed out coldly. The man was a pain in the ass, but he was also a major investor in several business ventures.
“Marion is not the outgoing type.” He flicked the mousey looking woman who was seated in a corner of the room, nursing a glass of champagne and trying to look inconspicuous. “Ours is not a love match. Not like yours” he turned to look at Beau, a speculative look in his pale blue eyes. “Like I said, you are a very lucky man.”
“If you would excuse me?” Putting away his drink, he moved forward to meet the topic of their discussion and the object of Conrad’s lustful eyes.
“I thought you had deserted me.” Tucking her arm through his, he led her to one corner of the room for privacy.
“Not a chance. I saw the way you were looking at Conrad and decided that it was time to make a rescue. You looked as if you wanted to punch his lights out.”
“I was close to it,” Beau growled, feeling his anger and jealousy disappearing. “I thought I told you not to wear anything this revealing.”
“Then I would have to get a whole new wardrobe," she said impishly. “This happens to be the most modest outfit in the closet.”
He gave the plum-colored dress hugging her curves a critical once over. He had seen her when she was getting ready of course.
The dress covered her from throat to knees, with see-through sleeves, but anything she wore was going to bring attention to her incandescent beauty. His wife could be wearing a sackcloth and still managed to give it a certain flair.
“I should lock you up and throw away the key," he growled.
“Not unless you are going to stay locked in with me.” Turning into his arms, she wrapped her hands around his neck. “Besides, I have eyes only for the most handsome man in the room.”
“You had better.” He nipped at her plum-colored lip. “How are you feeling?” “Wonderful. Come on, let’s go mingle.”
*****
But she was not singing that tune a week later. The doctors had warned her that the symptoms would come fast and furious, but she was not prepared for the nausea that came from simply inhaling her husband’s cologne.
“I am sorry darling.” She pressed a hand to her stomach to stop the heaving. “I cannot stand the scent.”
“What should I do?”
“Discontinue using it.”
“Is it this particular brand?”
She nodded, trying to settle her stomach.
“Sure?”
She nodded again.
“All right, I’ll get rid of it.”
“No! Just put it somewhere else. It happens to be my favorite.”
“You gave it to me on our three-month anniversary.” He eyed her anxiously. “Want me to go and take a shower?”
“Would you?”
“Are you up to having a meal?”
“Could we have it on the balcony? I don’t feel like going downstairs.”
“Go sit down and I will be right back. Shower first and then dinner after.” He started to move toward her and then changed his mind. “Let me try and get this cologne off me first.”
“Thanks darling.” She waited until he had left the room to walk unsteadily out on the balcony. Settling down on one of the comfortable chaises, she pulled a fluffy blanket over her and stared out at the lights decorating the trees.
It was a week away from Christmas and she had hired people to decorate both indoors and outdoors. The result was spectacular. Lights shimmered on the branches of the palm trees and intertwined through the hedges lining the fence.
Downstairs, the tree towered toward the roof and was lavishly decorated. Next year this time, she would have so much more to celebrate. Pressing a hand against her stomach, she took a deep breath.
She was not comfortable hiding things from her husband, but she had to do it. If he knew she had spent most of the day bringing up everything she ate, he would be anxious.
She had called Lucien, and he had prescribed something to settle her stomach.
“I was afraid this was going to happen. If the nausea persists, I would like you to come in so that we can give you a thorough check.”
Her nipples were also very sore and extremely sensitive. Her stomach was empty, and she was afraid to eat. But she had to. It felt like she was carrying multiples, and they would need as much nourishment as possible.
Forcing a smile, she straightened when he came bearing a tray. She held her breath as the scent of his body wash assailed her nostrils and she waited for the adverse effect, sighing in relief when nothing happened.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked lightly as he placed the tray in front of her.
“Vegetable soup.” He uncovered the silver cover to reveal only one bowl.
“You aren’t going to eat?”
“I had something at the office.” His green eyes were staring at her intensely. “When were you going to tell me?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Tell you what?” She tentatively took a sip of the broth.
“Don’t play games with me, dammit. I know you were throwing up for most of the day.”
“I see my watchdog is hard at work.”
“You missed a meeting with Kelly and Leesa, and you weren’t answering your phone. I called the house phone and asked Mrs. Greene to go and give you a message. She said she knocked and when you didn’t answer, she opened the door and heard you retching.”
His expression hardened. “I tried calling you several times and when you still had not answered, I had to ask her to come and check on you again. Twice. And all those times, she heard you throwing up.”
She gave him a guilty look. “I did not want to worry you.”
“Too late," he said grimly. “Why would you not tell me?”
Putting the spoon down, she faced him squarely. “Because I did not want you to overreact. You already expressed how you feel about all of this, I just did not want to give you added fuel.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that right?”
“Beau–”
“No, damn you!” He snapped. “I have every right to know how my wife is doing. It does not matter that I am not one hundred percent on board. I am your husband, and you are carrying my seed inside you.”
He drew in a breath. “Have you called Lucien?”
She nodded meekly. “He prescribed something for the nausea.” She bit her lip. “This might be happening whether or not I take the pills. I am also feeling bloated, and I get dizzy.”
“Eat," he told her curtly.
“Beau–”
“I am going to get you some tea. Try and drink the water as well.” Sliding off the chair, he quickly made his way out.
Staring disconsolately into the bowl, she used the spoon to stir the vegetables.
Thankfully, she did not feel like hurling and could feel the warmth from the broth settling her stomach. Today while she was retching the lining of her stomach out, she had wanted him. She had sat on her bottom on the cold tiles, feeling as if she was dying and all she wanted was for her husband to be there with her.
She did not relish the idea of lying to him, of keeping what she was going through from him. But he had said it himself, he was not a hundred percent behind the decision, and she felt as if she was on her own.
She resented him for having to face it on her own. She could not do it. If this was just a fraction of what she was going to be facing, she was going to need him.
She looked up when he came back with a tray of steaming tea and placed it in front of her.
“How are you feeling?”
“A lot better. The hot soup is a good idea.” She gave him a pleading look. “Please, I don’t want to fight.”
“Then you should have called me. I was worried.”
“You said you are not one hundred percent on board.”
“I am being honest.” He nudged the tea closer to her. “Take a sip.”
Obediently, she picked up the cup and blew on the liquid before taking a sip.
“You don’t make it easy for me to tell you things.”
His brows lifted. “Since when?”
“Since I started doing this. Since I became pregnant.” She blew and then sipped. “I am afraid you are going to get upset.” Putting down the cup, she turned to face him fully.
“I was in the bathroom, vomiting my stomach out and all I wanted was my husband.” His expression softened. He was furious with her for trying to bear everything on her own, but he supposed he had given her reasons to exclude him.
“And I would have wanted to be there.” Pulling the bowl toward him, he dipped the spoon in and brought it to her lips. With her eyes trained on his, she swallowed the liquid and the carrots.
“I did not want to worry you.”
He took another spoonful and offered it to her. “That’s what I am here for. I would appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”
“I promise.” She ate the entire bowl of soup, under his watchful eyes and accepted the cup of tea which had cooled a little.
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
His brows lifted. “I don’t think any thanks is necessary. I love taking care of you. How is your stomach?”
“Better.” She finished the tea and put away the cup. “It’s almost Christmas. I was thinking we could have a party with just my sisters and their families and your dad.”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. “Just us.”
“Beau–”
“I will not have you stressing over China patterns and roast duck. You are pregnant and I am going to see to it that you take it easy.”
“What about your dad?” she demanded, feeling her ire rising. If he was going to be this much of a pain in the ass and her pregnancy was not even at an advanced stage yet, what on earth did she have to look forward to later on?
“My dad will be having Cynthia over for the holidays.”
“Ooh.” Her expression became positively fluid. “Are things progressing that much?”
“Don’t get your hopes up," he told her, dampening. “My dad, like me, has a one-track mind when it comes to love.”
“So, he is just leading poor Cynthia on?” She bristled. “I like her, and she adores Blake.”
“You’re getting off topic.”
“I would much rather get ‘off topic’ as you put it, than have this asinine discussion with you. I am not an invalid–”
“There is every possibility that you might be carrying multiples and if that’s the case, you need to take it easy. You were the one who fought for this, remember? And I also should remind you that you cannot have your cake and eat it too.” He withstood her furious glare until she was the first to look away.
“Is that so bad?” he asked softly. “Spending Christmas, just the two of us?”
His tone and words had her looking at him and she could feel her ire dissipating. He was right of course.
Last Christmas holiday, she had been frantic, rushing all over the place, shopping for her myriad number of nieces and nephews as well as her sisters, their husbands, her husband and father-in-law and her friends. Then she hired caterers to prepare the meal, then turned around micro-managing them.
She had wanted everything to be perfect. It was the first major holiday as a married woman to a powerful man and she wanted to make an impression. When it was all over, she was so exhausted, she had collapsed in bed and slept for most of the day, missing waking up to Christmas with her husband.
But he had not complained. They had leftovers, by the fire and made love until they both fell asleep again.
“No," she conceded. “I would much rather spend the time with you.”
“Good.” Sweeping away the remnants of her meal, he moved closer to her. “No more secrets," he whispered in her ear.
“I promise.”
“I don’t want this to get between us.”
“This as you are referring to it as, will be our children," she murmured into his chest, admitting to herself how comforting it was to feel his strong arms wrapped around her. Before she met him, the concept of being the petite damsel in distress had always annoyed her.
She was fiercely independent and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She often said that she did not need a man to validate that. But with her husband, I was different. He made her feel safe and secure.
A look from him was all she ever needed. She knew he would move heaven and earth to make sure she was okay.
“Babies?” He shifted so he could stare down at her. “You are sure there are more than one?”
She nodded, her eyes shining. “Lucien is also convinced. My breasts are super sensitive and the kind of nausea I am having would suggest that much.”
“Super sensitive?” His deep voice had dropped seductively. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes. Beau–”
“Don’t tell me that I cannot touch you," he interrupted plaintively, setting her a few inches away, so he could look at her. “I have been the soul of abstinence for weeks now and barely hanging on.”
Her hand lifted to cup his cheek. “I was going to say that we have been given the greenlight to have as much sex as we can manage, and we both know we can manage a hell of a lot.”
His eyes flared and the desire he had been tamping down flared to incredible life. His loins throbbed with alarming energy, and he could feel the sound rushing through his ears.
“That we can.” His voice was unsteady and so were his hands as he peeled the robe off her shoulders. A sharp intake of breath disturbed the silence as he stared at the generous flesh. The nipples were already responding to his stare, the buds tight.
“I see what you meant.” His hands lifted to shape and reshaped, chest heaving with effort as they hardened even more.
“How sensitive?”
“Wearing a bra is becoming a chore.” Her voice was thready, her body hot.
“When I do this–”He stopped suddenly when she cried out as he passed a thumb over the aching flesh.
“Oh God!” Her back arched toward him.
“Perhaps I should–” he cut off the rest of the words and hauled her into his lap. “My mouth–”His head swooped down, and she gripped handfuls of his hair in anticipation. She was not disappointed. In fact, she was transported.
His tongue swirled over the tight flesh with the expert of a maestro who knew exactly how to achieve the perfect result.
By the time he took the wet nipple between his teeth, she was chanting incoherently and crying out his name.
Reaching between them, Beau pressed his palm down on the apex of her thighs, one finger stroking the sensitive protruding flesh. She came instantly, violently, her body jerking like a marionette being pulled by her master.
She collapsed against him, her heart racing, her body a trembling mass of sensations.
“I want you to ride me,” he hissed between his teeth, his arms cradling her. “But I fear I am going to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She managed to lift her heavy head to look at him. “I promise. And I want to milk you. I want to feel your seed spreading all over my womb.”
Her words broke the thin restraint he had been holding onto. With a growl, he released his swollen shaft from the sweatpants he had donned. And lifting her hips, he drove into her, his composure shattered.