"I adore you." He said fiercely. "It might piss the bloody hell out of me, but that's the way it is."
"I know. Please don't be mad at me anymore. I hate it when you are."
"I'm not." Clasping her face between his hands, he closed his mouth on hers and showed her.
Chapter 6
She was violently ill the next morning. One minute she was happily drinking her tea and having scones and some eggs, when she started retching. It happened so suddenly, she barely had time to make it to the powder room across from the informal dining room.
And he was right there behind her. Holding her around the waist as she puked her guts out. Holding her, expression grim and harsh with regret as he listened helplessly to her misery. He had done this to her.
Had he thought of the consequences when he hoped and prayed for children with her? No. All he had imagined was her heavy with his baby growing inside her.
But she was the one suffering. With gentle hands, he lifted her off her feet when she emptied and took her over to the sink. He insisted on doing everything. Turning the tap on, he filled the glass and held it to her mouth to rinse.
Afterwards, he dampened a wash cloth and wiped the sweat from her face and neck.
In silence, he cradled her against him and carried her upstairs where he laid her back against the pillows. When she closed her eyes in a gesture of weariness, he felt his heart clutching. She looked so gaunt, so defenseless and unlike the fiery woman who argued at him at every turn. He hated seeing her like this.
"Stay."
He glanced down at the hand clutching his arm and nodded. "I was about to get you a glass of water. And call the doctor."
"I feel much better." She attempted a smile to reassure him. He looked so lost, so guilty that she wanted to comfort him. "It comes with the territory. And I'm carrying two, twice the misery. The doctor warned that the nausea would come on suddenly." Her fingers pressed into his flesh. "I'm fine."
"I'm not." He rasped sharply. He could still see her on her knees, puking her stomach lining out. Still hear the awful sound of her vomiting and it tore at him still. "I shouldn't have." He bit off the words, knowing that what he had been about to say would be far from the truth.
Shrugging her hand away, he rose to pace.
Kiara watched him and saw the struggle on his face. Saw how conflicted he was. And understood perfectly that he was hurt when she hurts.
"You want to undo the pregnancy?" Her calm tone saying the words had him stopping and staring at her.
"You want to get rid of it." His voice was dull, his heart thudding.
"You misheard me." With a sigh, she patted the space next to her. Hesitating briefly, he walked over and sat. "Ever since you came into my life, you've disrupted it. I told myself that I was fine alone. I wasn't lonely, not by a long shot and I was certainly not looking for a relationship."
"I don't like to see you suffering." He muttered.
"And I would gladly change places with you. Since that's not possible, I'm here to tell you that I don't mind emptying my stomach lining down the sewer, that it will be well worth it in the end. And what woman worth her salt wouldn't want to see all parts of her swelling up? Not me." She grinned when his eyes narrowed.
"Happy to see that you're feeling better. Now, is there anything I can get you?"
She shook her head, a soft smile lingering this time. "Just stay with me. That's all I need." The vulnerability in her voice tugged at him, and he tucked the covers around her, his worries momentarily eased by the trust in her eyes.
Together, they sat in the quiet room, drawing strength from each other as the storm passed.
He gave up fussing with his shirt and went to help her with the clasp of the diamond necklace he had given her when he discovered she was pregnant.
"You're frowning." She pointed out.
His fingers lingered on the bare skin of her neck for a second as if needing the assurance of her presence.
"That creep hasn't been in touch with you in a week."
"That's a good thing."
His eyes met hers in the cheval mirror, clearly disagreeing.
