Another tightening sensation gripped her belly and she had to stop what she was doing and rub. She’d been havingirregular Braxton Hicks contractions on and off all day, no doubt aggravated by standing in a cold theatre in hard clogs.
She’d panicked earlier when the first one had hit in the break between theatre cases and she’d rung her obstetrician in a state of absolute dread, fearing the start of another premature labour. Not that it felt like it had with the twins at all, just an occasional tightening, but at only twenty-four weeks and with her history, any little niggle was cause for fright.
After asking succinct questions, Erica had assured her they were Braxton Hicks contractions, which were perfectly normal. Not having had any before her first pregnancy had come to a rather early finish, Peyton was ignorant to what they felt like, although she’d heard pregnant women and mothers talking about them frequently.
Erica had talked her through the things to watch out for and by the time Peyton had hung up, the panic had receded and she’d put it from her mind. Braxton Hicks were a perfectly normal sign of a perfectly normal pregnancy.
They were a good thing. She was going to have a normal pregnancy and deliver at a normal time.
Picking up the pen, she started writing again, motoring through her desk work over the next hour, head down, determined to get it done so she could go home early.
‘Peyton?’
Peyton’s hand stilled mid-word and her heart contracted as her gaze flew to the doorway.Valentino.There he was, large as life – rumpled shirt and trousers, jaw heavy with stubble, bleary eyes and unruly hair.
‘I came straight from the airport.’
She could see that. And yet even in his twenty-four-hour flight haggardness and her irritation at him, he was still the sexiest man she’d ever seen. She stifled the urge to get up andrun to him. No matter how her arms ached to hold him and her heart bled, he couldn’t know her true feelings.
‘Valentino,’ she murmured, her knuckles white as her fingers strangled the pen.
Another Braxton Hicks came and she frowned as it gripped her belly hard, much closer and stronger than any of the others. She tried to remember how long it had been since the last one while simultaneously making polite conversation with the man she loved so he would never guess her secret.
‘How is your mother?’
He gave her a small smile. ‘She’s much better now. Should be home tomorrow or the next day.’
Peyton nodded, her jaw cramped with the effort of keeping her voice evenly modulated. ‘Good to know. I’m pleased she came through it well. It must have been worrying for all of you.’
His brow furrowed. ‘Is everything okay?’
No. It wasn’t. He was here and he was okay and she was so relieved but at the same time hating herself for caring so damn much. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘Peyton?’ He walked into her office in that loose unhurried way of his, which was also seriously annoying becauseGod, she’d missed that, too. ‘You seem… upset.’
A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her throat at the same time another pain hit sharp enough to drive her to her feet. ‘Upset? Why on earth would I be upset?’ she demanded, pain making her snappy. ‘You go to the other side of the world and can’t even return a message?’
Peyton hated how she sounded. Like a spurned lover, or, in his case, a discarded girlfriend. Her hormones were making her obnoxiously, irrationally bitchy. But she couldn’t stop as the pain gripping her belly increased in length and intensity.
She glared at him. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’ God, she wassopathetic.
‘I texted you.’
Slamming her hand on the desk, Peyton stared at him incredulously. ‘Three times! Three lousy times in two weeks? You profess to want to marry me, for us to be a family together, yet you can’t even ring me when you get there to tell me everything’s okay? Youtextme?’
He blinked, clearly taken aback by her fervour. ‘I’m sorry… I wanted to talk to you, especially after the way we parted, but there’s so much to say and with everything that was going on back home and the time difference I didn’t want to try and squeeze it around the few minutes I had here and there.’
‘Damn it, Valentino,’ she snapped. ‘I would have taken a few minutes here and—’ Peyton broke off as another pain squeezed hard down low, doubling her over. She gripped the desk with both hands as she panted.
‘Peyton?’
Something was wrong. Very wrong. That hadn’t felt like a normal, natural Braxton Hicks. That had felt exactly like it had with the twins when her membranes had ruptured at twenty-eight weeks and she’d been eight centimetres dilated.
Exactly.
She looked up as Valentino came around her side of the desk and clutched at his sleeve. ‘I think I’m in labour.’
And she burst into tears.
