Chapter 8
"What is it? What's wrong?" Kiara reached for Oscar's hand as the doctor finished her thorough examination.
The panic had set in when he heard her rushing from the bed to the bathroom. At first, he thought she was going to be sick, but when he reached her, she was sitting on the toilet, her underwear at her ankles. That's when he had seen the blood.
Panic had turned to fear, that had paralyzed him for a few seconds before the adrenalin had him moving into action. He had called the doctor first and then grabbing a robe, had bundled her in, before rushing out the door.
The good thing about leaving at two in the morning was that the traffic was light and allowed him to get to the private clinic in record time.
"Spotting is usual at this time in the pregnancy." Dr. Greene said smoothly.
"Why are you frowning?"
"Am I losing my babies?" Kiara gripped his hand, rubbing bone against bone. He did not feel it.
"No. Their heartbeats are strong." She sent a reassuring smile their way as she continued to view the grainy monitor. "But your blood pressure is elevated, and your iron level is low. You're anemic."
"I've been eating--"
"It has nothing to do with your eating habits. Carrying multiples can and will do that to you. It can be draining."
"What can we do?"
The doctor threw him an appreciative smile at the word 'we'.
"Rest. Three days is my recommendation. No TV, no work, no stress. Just some light reading and stay in bed, mostly. You can take walks, short distances only but keep the stress at a minimum."
"Anything else?" Oscar demanded tersely.
"I will print out a nutrition sheet for you to follow and prescribe some iron tablets. You should be fine in a couple of days."
"Thanks."
With a nod acknowledging him, the woman rose. "I'll leave you to get dressed."
He waited until the woman had left and closed the door before bringing their joined hands to his lips.
"I'm sorry."
Surprise touched her face. That was the last thing she expected him to say.
"For what?"
"Putting you through this." His expression was grim. "If I'd known--"
"You would have done what exactly? You're pissing me off here and you know the doc wants me to be perfectly calm and serene."
He eyed her for a few seconds. "No regrets?"
"None. I've grown quite attached to these brats growing inside me. Fat ankles, sickness all the damn day and the insane cravings and all. I do believe I will miss all of it."
He gave her a skeptical look. "Really?"
"Hell no." She smiled and patted his cheek. "Help me get dressed. I'm starving."
His relief was palpable. "Aren't you always?" he asked equably.
"Watch it pal. No stress, remember?"
"I see you're going to be milking that for all it's worth." His hands were gentle as he helped her on with her robe.
"Damn straight."
The first day was like an adventure. She was waited on hand and foot and not allowed to do anything except go to the bathroom.
He took her phone and fielded her calls, especially a particularly vicious one from her mother demanding to speak to her that left the headache brewing at the back of his eyes.
"She's not feeling well and the doctor wants her to rest." He told the woman firmly.
"She's my daughter! Are you implying that speaking to me will make her unwell?"
"That's precisely what I'm saying. I will not have her stressed. If there's anything I can help you with--"
"I don't need your help." She said coldly. "I warned her that you would eventually try to control her. That's what men do. They come in sneakily and try and take over. She would not listen."
He had to fight the urge to hang up on her.
"Victoria. Dr. Landan, your daughter is carrying multiples.
She was spotting and her blood pressure is high.
The doctor wants her stress free and resting.
It's my job to see that she's undisturbed.
I'm sorry if that's something you find difficult to understand.
But know this, Kiara's health comes first."
"You did this to her!" The woman raged. "Did you ever ask her if she was maternally inclined?"
Ignoring the slice of guilt, he responded. "That's beside the point and yes, I did this to her. I'm here and taking full responsibility for getting her into this position. We both want these babies and we're going to do whatever necessary to keep them safe. Now if you want to leave a message--"
The dial tone sounded in his ear. Putting the phone away, he leaned back and closed his eyes wearily.
It was difficult for him to accept that a mother could behave like that to her own flesh and blood. His own parents were so amazing and loving, he had naively taken it for granted that all parents or most of them were the same. That they naturally loved their kids.
His heart grieved for her. Because he loved her, it was difficult for him to see her go through all this. His first instinct was to protect her from everything and everyone.
The bell sounded, jolting him out of his misery. Schooling his features, he tamped down the emotions rioting inside him.
His woman knew him as well as he knew her and could detect the slightest hint of distress. He had promised himself he would let her have her stress-free days and by God, he was going to keep to that promise.
"Hey." His smile was a little strained as he walked into their bedroom. She was propped up on a mound of pillows, a book opened on her chest. "You rang?"
Her eyes searched his face for a few seconds. "What's wrong?"
He hesitated for a moment, debating how much to share, but decided honesty was best. "Just a call from your mother," he said gently, moving to sit beside her.
"She's worried, but I handled it. I promise, you're not to be bothered by any of it.
" He reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You just focus on resting."
She held up a hand to stop his forward motion.
"Don't do that. You see, I happen to know my own mother and concern wasn't something she would show. She doesn't give a damn about me. What exactly did she say?"
Ignoring her raised hand, he came and sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't worry about it, I can handle your mother." Taking her hand, he started to lift it to his lips when she tugged.
"What did she say?"
"No stress, remember?"
"You're stressing me out by stalling. Spill."
Lacing his fingers through hers, he stared at hers. "She blamed me for knocking you up." He shrugged at the look on her face. "She wouldn't use those words of course but that's the gist of it. She says I'm trying to control you."
She laughed bitterly. "Shows how well she knows me."
"Right." He gazed at her. "I told her I don't want you bothered."
"She must have loved that."
He lifted her hand and kissed the knuckles. "I'm here to protect you from anyone." His eyes met hers. "I can take anything your mother dishes out as long as you're all right."
She tugged at their joined hands and had him tumbling almost on top of her.
"What are you doing?"
"Showing my appreciation." She murmured against his lips. "Come snuggle with me."
"All right." He toed off his shoes and slipped under the covers. "No funny business."
"You mean like this?" He jumped when her hand closed over his crotch.
"Christ, baby." He groaned. Removing her hand, he kept it in his and hauled her against him.
They took a long walk around the property. The O'Sullivan manor had been in the family for several generations and had gone through a series of renovations over the years.
Rolling hills, grass well-manicured, the gentle trickle of the stream just over the incline. An actual well that had fascinated Kiara on her first visit and a paddock where horses had once raced freely. That was no longer the case.
The paddock was empty and the large barn only housed two horses. The tennis court was well maintained as well as the pool. Acres of land stretched into the woods, merging with the harbor.
He had a schooner moored and tied securely to the deck; one he had not used in weeks. He should remedy that. He was going to pencil that in.
Take her sailing as soon as she was feeling better. He loved to feel the wind on his face and the scent of sea water. And she was an excellent sailor.
"You're quiet." He murmured as they made the bed and came around to the gazebo with its white lattice work. Flowers bloomed in abundance, scenting the air with its fragrance.
He could almost believe that nothing bad was happening in the world. That it was just the two of them existing in a perfect world.
"Just thinking." Her hand was held securely in his, the warmth seeping into her skin. The first time he took her hand and held it, she had jolted, causing him to stare at her curiously. Now she had gotten accustomed to it.
"About?"
Placing her free hand on the slight bulge, she rubbed slowly.
"That this is a very good place to bring up our children."
"It is, yes." He was pleased she was thinking of the future and wondered if now was the perfect time to say the 'm' word again. He was about to, when she continued.
"I love what we have. We understand each other and we get along. There's no need to clutter things up with a marriage license."
He felt his heart sinking like stone, the words dying on his lips. He had promised himself to wait, to give her time to realize that they belonged together and marriage was the ultimate commitment.
For a moment, he let silence settle between them, the weight of unsaid words pressing gently on his chest. He watched the way sunlight caught in her hair, the intricate coils and twists, and felt a bittersweet ache at the thought of everything they had built together, and everything that might never be.
Still, he squeezed her hand, anchoring himself in the present, determined to cherish this peace for as long as it lasted.
Her heart sank when he let go of her hand and went to stand just inside the gazebo. "It's going to rain." Lifting his head, he scanned the clouds gathering. "We should get back."