Page 24 of Daigo

Rounding the counter, he swung her into his arms. “We’ll be fine,” he murmured when she buried her face in his chest. He hoped he was right.

Chapter 7

He held her against him in his arms. Her head was resting on his shoulder; her fingers curled on his chest. They were both very still, as if in slumber. It was late. She had not bothered to finish dressing the tree, and he hadn't taken a bite of the meal she had placed before him. It was still there. The only thing he had managed to finish was the drink.

He held her close. They were both caught up in their own troubled thoughts. He knew she wasn't sleeping, but they were not saying what was on their minds. He was thinking painfully, worriedly, how slight she was and that, as slender as her curves were, she would be carrying three human beings.

He wasn't thinking about the children, the babies; he was thinking of her, of the fact that her life was going to be drastically altered. She would be at risk, and he couldn't bear to think of it. But that was all that filled his mind.

He wanted to go back and change things. He had told her in the initial stage that he would not lose her, could not lose her, and he had meant every word.

He had read extensively on the subject. As soon as he realized he was going to agree, he had started doing his research, and it was shocking and terrifying. Her body would be stretched to accommodate multiples. Her hormones would be off the charts. She would be carrying not one, not two, but three fetuses. She would go through it all: the myriad of mood swings, the sickness, the swollen ankles and sensitive breasts and elevated heart rate.

She knew he was thinking and worrying. Even though his long, lean body was still, she could feel his thoughts churning. She wanted him to be happy, wanted him to be all right with the news, but she was expecting too much.

Normally, he would be making love to her. Their sex life had always been healthy, too healthy sometimes. But tonight, there was a change. Yes, he was holding her, a protective gesture that made her feel like lashing out.

She wasn't terminally ill, she wanted to shout. She was pregnant, and women had been doing it since the dawn of time. She was fortunate to have the resources at her disposal: doctors to tend to her every need. She would be checked on every week to ensure her safety and that of the babies she was carrying.

She was not going to wallow in worry. She wanted this, craved it. So there would be three, and yes, she was aware that she could lose even one or two, and that was what was putting stark terror inside her. She wanted them all. Three children would mean she wouldn't have to go again. She was almost twenty-nine. Her biological clock had started ticking down.

It was different for him, being a male, which was so damn unfair, but there you go.

She wanted all three. Call it greed or the fact that she had never had a family. She needed one.

She stirred, and his eyes left the contemplation of the high, arched ceiling when she lifted her head. Their eyes met and held.

"I used to take walks in the park just to see children being wheeled in their prams, whether by parents or caregivers," she began. "And I used to yearn." Her fingers trailed over his chin and then his jaw. "That was before I met you. There was a part of me that would resent the mothers. I don't remember mine, and I used to wonder what it would have been like if she had been alive.

"I want you to be happy, Daigo, not lie here in dread, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. I want you to be positive that everything will go according to plan." She smiled a little. "I have every intention of taking all the symptoms in stride: the roiling mood swings, the queasiness, the swollen ankles, all of it. But I need you to be on board with all of it."

His hand drifted to the thick twists she had put her hair in. It was her usual way. She had such heavy hair, thick and naturally curly. He had asked her once why she had never done anything to it, such as perming, and she had told him that at first she couldn't afford the products or the cost of going to a salon. Then she had taken a good look in the mirror and realized that she loved the natural look, that she could do anything she wanted with it. He loved running his fingers through the soft strands.

"That's asking too much," he murmured now.

"Is it?" Her look was pleading, as if willing him to think differently. "It's not such a great leap from having one-" She shook her head with a whimsical smile at his arched brows. "All right, it is. But at the end of it, we'll have three babies."

"With the resulting problems." His hand tightened in the coils. "I told you before that losing you is not an option. You came into my life when I least expected it.

"One minute I was in complete control of myself, and the next-" He shrugged. "I no longer knew who the hell I was. You reached pockets inside me I never knew existed." Letting go of her hair, he curved his hand around her cheek, his fingers a little rough. "I cannot be comfortable with it, not now. I've read the various articles in detail and know what to expect, and I want to tell you right now that I'm frightened."

"So am I," she whispered hoarsely. "But I'm not alone. I have you, and I know you'll be there for me. I have a team of excellent doctors who, because of your resources, will be there at my beck and call. I have to let that be enough." Her eyes were eloquent. "I can bear it all if you tell me now that you're a hundred percent on board."

"How can you even question that?" His tone was a little impatient. "How can I be anything less? I'm in love with you and always will be."

"Even when I'm fat and smelly?"

"Smelly?"

"The constant need to relieve my bladder, the change in my scent. Big belly, big ankles, and all of that." She shrugged. "While I'm waddling like a duck, there will be thin, beautiful women vying for your attention."

His lips creased. "I will do my best to look the other way."

"You'd better. I love you so much, darling."

His hand fastened around her neck. "You'd better," he repeated her words. "I don't want there ever to be a time when I start to wonder about your devotion."

"Never," she vowed. She stroked his cheek lightly. "You haven't eaten."