“Really?” I look up, endlessly amazed at all Cameron’s little luxuries.
“I’m going to make you babysit the twins a lot,” she says, pulling up her leggings so she can swish her feet in the water. “The pool at our place is one of those boring lap pools that Cormac put in for his workouts.”
“That would be wonderful,” I say, “I love kids. Growing up as an only child always made me wish I’d had siblings.”
Looking around us, she leans closer. “Your appointment is set for tomorrow. If your guess about Dublin is correct, you’re probably somewhere around eight weeks, so Dr. Greer says the ultrasound will give you a lot of information.”
“I hate doing this without having Cameron there, but he’s so deep in the mission. I think they’re coming close to the final attack. Telling him this… risking the distraction? It feels wrong.”
“Ordinarily, I’d try to convince you otherwise,” Mala says, “but you’re right. Cormac and Lachlan flew into Moscow this morning. They’re ready for the push that drives Stepanov and your father out of their last stronghold there. They’ll head for the compound outside of St. Petersburg and try to regain their forces. That’s where Cameron and Dougal will be waiting. It’s okay,” she nudges me, “Cameron will be there for the next one.”
“Thank you for coming with me. We have to find a reason for Natalia to not be there. She’ll report this to Cameron, just out of spite.”
“She really is unlikeable,” Mala agrees. “Let me think on it.”
Natalia is standing outside my bedroom door in the morning, dressed properly and swaying slightly.
“Are you all right?” I ask, concerned.
“I’m f-” Slapping her hand over her mouth, she races for my bathroom, vomiting noisily. It’s all so reminiscent of the other day in the training room that for a moment, I’m wondering ifshe’spregnant. “I must have eaten something bad yesterday,” she manages between clenched teeth.
“You need to go back to bed,” I’d pat her back but she doesn’t like the friendly, touchy type. “Don’t worry, Mala and I are going out today, I’ll ask her to double her guard.”
“No, Mrs. MacTavish, that would be-”
I turn, waiting for her to finish throwing up. It’s not helping my morning queasiness any, either. “Really, Natalia. Go to bed. The only people as vigilant as you are Mala’s security.”
When Mala shows up, right on time with a big, sunny smile, I eye her suspiciously.
“Natalia is horribly sick, she’s thrown up half her body weight and everything but her toenails.”
“That’s terrible,” she says without any change of expression.
“You graduated first in your class in the Spy Division, didn’t you?”
“Well, the campus blew up, but up until that point, I was first in my class,” she says modestly. “Now, we have things to do. Lovely to see you, Miss Kevin!”
Miss Kevin, who has been standing at the front door with her usual look of courteous inquiry, nods to me. “Have a pleasant lunch, Madame MacTavish.”
“Um. Thank you, Miss Kevin, I won’t be long.”
Her left eye drops into the slightest of winks. Damn her. She’s dangerous.
The old fear suddenly grips me again as Dr. Greer spreads the gel over my stomach for the ultrasound. This will be some cruel trick of fate. I won’t really be pregnant.
My Russian stoicism takes over. What will be, will be.
Dr. Greer gently presses the doppler against my skin, sweeping it back and forth. “Ah, here we are.” One hand still moving on my abdomen, he points with the other to the screen. “See there? There’s your little one.” He’s making notes on size and measurements in a low voice to his nurse, and Mala grabs my hand.
“Oh, honey. You and Cameron are having a baby!” She hands me a tissue and I realize both of us are crying.
Iwantthis baby. No matter what happens, I’ll carry them safely until it’s time to join their family.
“I’ll keep you safe,nemnogo lyubvi,little love,” I whisper.
Printing off a picture of my tiny baby, Dr. Greer hands it to me with a smile. “Now, let’s talk a little about your family history,” Dr. Greer asks.
And there goes my joy. “My mother died giving birth to me. She had placenta previa.”
