Chapter 7 #2
"Ready to tell me what's on your mind and why I'm being treated like the perfect husband?" he asked mildly.
"You're not perfect, but I don't want perfection." She heaved out a breath. "I'm pregnant."
"That's great, isn't it?" He was puzzled by her apprehensive look, and then it dawned on him.
"How pregnant? Multiples?"
She nodded, her fingers gripping the stem of the glass. "I don't want you to freak out."
He stiffened and slowly put his glass down.
"How many, Eliza?"
"Four," she whispered. "Isn't that amazing?" She rushed on before he could make a comment. "It means we will have all our children in one go. After this..."
"What are the risks?" He could feel the cold fingers of fear already slicing through his body.
"It's a lot to take in at first." She leaned forward, her expression pleading.
"I know it sounds like a lot, but the doctors are going to be with me all the way.
Every step of the process. And I will make certain I follow their orders to the letter.
This is a good thing, darling..." She reached out to grasp his hand with both of hers. "Please tell me you're happy."
"Tell me the risks," he repeated tightly. But oh, Christ, he already knew. "Say it, Eliza."
She reluctantly told him and watched as his expression turned ominous.
"I promise to be very careful..."
"And the risks to the fetuses? Low birth weight, naturally. All of them might not make it, and underdeveloped organs. Am I right?"
She nodded miserably.
"This was a mistake."
Her heart turned cold as he spoke the words.
"You don't mean that."
"This was a mistake, and we both know it. You're risking your life, and we should..." His voice trailed off at the anguished look on her beautiful face. Shoving back his chair, he forced her to release his hand.
"I need something stronger than wine," he muttered.
Striding to the recessed cabinet, he jabbed at the button and had it swinging forward.
Selecting a bottle of aged whiskey, he poured a generous amount in a highball glass and took it with him to stand in front of the fire.
Suddenly, he was feeling awfully cold on the inside.
"Samuel..."
"I can't do this," he told her without turning around. "I can't lose you."
He had been so immersed in his thoughts and the mesmerizing flames that he had not heard her get up from the table or notice that she was right behind him. The sigh was torn from his chest when he felt her arms wrapping around his waist.
"That's not going to work," he warned her gruffly.
But he was already softening. The feel of her breasts pressing into his back was making him weak with desire.
Gripping the edge of the mantel, he continued to fight her.
If he turned around, he would be weakened even further, and they needed to have a serious discussion.
How the hell had he agreed to something like this? he wondered furiously. But he already knew the answer. He could not deny her anything. It was not only the fact that he was so in love with her, but it was also due to her wretched past. He wanted to give her everything she was denied.
"I promise that I will be a model pregnant woman," she said softly. "I won't complain about the symptoms or anything at all. Please be happy. That's all I'm asking, for you to be happy."
Putting his glass on the edge of the mantel, he turned around and felt his heart doing the usual slide and dance as he looked at her.
"You're putting yourself at risk."
"I'm aware." Her hands slid up his ribcage and pressed on his chest, where she could feel the unsteady rhythm of his heart.
Her gaze turned luminous. "When Dr. Forsythe first told me the news, I was scared.
I had hoped for twins, or, if I'm lucky, triplets.
Two boys and a girl. When I heard the word, quadruplets, I was scared.
" She lifted her hands to frame his face.
"Then I felt a certain peace settling inside me.
I have faith, darling. I believe that this will work out.
Yes, there will be challenges, but I'm no longer working, which means I can dedicate the next few months to making certain I get through this.
All I need from you is your support. I know you're in the middle of a major project and that shooting will be starting soon, but I have a team of doctors who're willing to make house calls if necessary.
" Her eyes turned pleading. "I just want this for us. "
"You ask the impossible," he bit out.
"Please be happy," she repeated.
Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to will away the fear. When he opened them again, she was staring at him expectantly. With a smothered groan, he bent and swung her into his arms. Sighing in relief, she pressed her face against his chest as he took her to bed.
"Is it safe? Can I make love to you?"
She nodded.
Lowering her to the bed, he hastily took off his clothing and joined her.
"It's going to take me some time to adjust. And I'm holding you to the promise that you will do as the doctors tell you."
"I will." Her hands slid up and down his chest slowly. "To the letter."
"And if anything happens to you..."
"Nothing will," she hastened to assure him.
"If it's a choice between you and those babies, I'm choosing you."
"I..."
"That's non-negotiable," he warned.
"I understand."
"Make sure you do." He removed her robe, his heart quickening at the sight of her naked body.
"Was it your plan to seduce me into accepting the news?" he asked gruffly as he passed his hands over her collarbone to cup her breast.
"Something like that," she whispered as she moved into him. "Make love to me, darling. I need to feel you inside me."
He hastened to comply, but only after he had used his teeth and tongue to wring feverish cries of passion from her.
He was still awake even after she had fallen asleep in his arms. His skin was still flushed, the moisture beading his forehead. He had strung out the lovemaking deliberately, as if to assure himself she was still here, still his.
He had done his research. He did not have to refer to the doctor's printed information.
As soon as he had agreed to go the IVF way with her, he had done his research, and the risks were scary as hell.
He wondered if she fully understood what she would be putting herself through for at least seven months. And he felt guilty.
He wanted children as well, but he would not have chosen this route.
And she would be going through all of it by herself.
He could be as supportive as possible, but the bottom line was she would be going through everything.
Tipping his head down, he gazed at her striking face and felt the familiar stirring of his heart.
He was going to have a private chat with the doctor, come morning.
Dr. Forsythe opened the door and ushered the imposing-looking man into his office, and tried his best not to show how intimidated he was.
"I was expecting you."
"Good, so we can dispense with the usual trite civilities."
"Would you like some coffee?"
"No. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Samuel began grimly. He had spent the morning pretending to be on board for his wife's sake, as well as trying to hide the fact that he had barely slept last night. He had left her with an excuse that he had an early-morning meeting with the directors.
"Would you care to sit?" the doctor asked him politely, sensing the anger burning at the surface.
"I prefer to stand." Samuel pinned him with his silver gaze. "I take it you told my wife what she's up against."
Blake was wondering if it was polite to sit behind his desk. But even though his knees were a little shaky, he decided it was better not to have Samuel Copeland staring down at him from his lofty height.
"I told her everything and assured her that we would be with her every step of the way."
"Did you also guarantee that she's going to come out of this unscathed?"
Blake decided that he should sit after all.
"I never told her that. I only assured her..."
"You made promises you have no way of knowing will be kept." Samuel drilled into him with his eyes. "I allowed her to think that I'm all right with all of this..." He waved a hand. "But I'm not."
"I know you're afraid..."
"Damn right I am! And I meant what I said before. If anything happens to her, if she dies during this process, I'm coming after you. There's no way on earth you could go where I would not find you. Is that understood?"
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Blake nodded. "I will assure you right now that Eliza, your wife, will be my first priority. I've been doing this for more than three decades now, and I've never lost a patient."
"How many quads have you delivered successfully?"
The question threw him for a moment, but he recovered immediately.
"Only two sets." He lifted a hand to stop the blast. "Quads are rare, of course, but we here at the clinic are well versed in every aspect of multiple births.
I've given your wife a detailed report on the dos and don'ts.
And we're going to be checking on her every week.
You have my assurance that I will be diligent in doing so. "
"You'd better be. And by the way, this conversation never happened. My wife does not hear about it."
"Of course."
Without another word, Samuel Copeland strode from the office, slamming the door shut behind him.
Leaning back in the chair, Dr. Blake Forsythe, noted embryologist and OB-GYN to multiple stars, found himself shaking in the aftermath.