‘Good morning.’
She swal owed. He looked fresh and alert and good enough to eat. She pushed up against the pil ows, dragged her hands back over her hair, tried to smooth it. ‘Morning.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine.’ Physical y in herself, she was. She felt as if she’d never been sick in the first place.
But what if her high temperature had harmed her baby? What then? She knew worrying about that would do her no good, but not worrying was impossible.
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘Breakfast?’
She shook her head. She doubted she’d be able to keep anything down. ‘A cup of something hot and herbal would be great, though.’ Despite what the doctor had said, she’d given up caffeine the day she’d found out she was pregnant. She’d wanted to give her baby every chance.
Alex appeared with two mugs of…lemongrass tea. The fragrance made her stomach loosen a fraction. She accepted her mug with a lift of the lips that she hoped would pass for a smile. ‘You do know that I don’t mind if you drink coffee, don’t you? You don’t need to abstain just because I am.’
‘It doesn’t seem fair to drink it when you can’t.
Besides, this lemon stuff is halfway decent.’ His nose wrinkled. ‘But you can keep that chamomile nonsense to yourself.’
She found herself chuckling, even amidst al the anxiety swirling through her.
‘Nervous, huh?’
She didn’t know how he’d sensed it. She’d thought she’d done a good job at covering it up. It seemed pointless trying to deny it, though. ‘A little.’
He surveyed her for a moment, set his mug on the floor and then leaned towards her. ‘Your temperature came down very quickly, Kit. You’ve had lots of rest, good food and medicine. You’re young, strong and the picture of health again. There’s no reason to believe that your baby isn’t strong and healthy too.’
She nodded. She knew he was right.
‘But?’ he said softly.
She set her mug on the bedside table as her stomach clenched up again. ‘Do you believe in fate, Alex?’
‘Not real y.’
He didn’t pick his mug up again. He remained with elbows on knees, his ful attention focused on her. For a moment it made her feel spotlighted—at the centre of his world. She shook herself.
‘Why?’ he asked.
She swal owed again, found her fingers had started pleating and unpleating the quilt. She gripped them together to stil them. ‘Maybe I’m not fated to be a mother. I didn’t realize I was pregnant for three whole months. I drank caffeine and the occasional glass of wine, and…and I didn’t do stuff that I would’ve done had I known.’
He frowned. ‘Kit, you’re going to be just fine.’
‘Fine?’ Her voice rose. ‘How on earth can you say that? On Monday I didn’t even realize I was sick!
Honestly, Alex, what does that say about me and the kind of mother I’m going to make?’ Her heart ached.
She pressed her palms to her eyes for a moment before dragging them back into her lap. ‘It doesn’t before dragging them back into her lap. ‘It doesn’t reflect very wel on me, does it? For heaven’s sake, I don’t even know how to change a nappy! Maybe…’
She gulped. ‘Maybe I’m not meant to be a mother.’
‘What the hel …? No!’
Alex jumped up, knocking over his mug in the process. With a swift curse he tore off his T-shirt and used it to mop up the spil .
As a broad expanse of naked flesh met her gaze, Kit’s eyes went wide. She could feel them getting bigger and bigger as the space in her lungs for air became progressively smal er and smal er. Her thought processes slammed to a halt. Alex’s shoulders and chest and the sculpted line of his back
—tanned, muscled and toned—al beckoned to her.
She knew from experience how firm his skin would be to the touch. And how warm.
Her pulse skittered and skipped and skated through her veins.
‘Didn’t want the rug to stain,’ he said, his voice gruff as he glanced up at her.
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, felt an answering tug in her womb as he rose to his feet and stood before her in al his half-naked glory. She remembered another time… Her stomach, her lips, her limbs softened.
Oh, dear Lord! She tried to catch her breath. ‘I…
um… You didn’t need to ruin your shirt in the process.’
He lifted one powerful shoulder as he sat again, the T-shirt hanging negligently from his hands. ‘I’l throw it in the wash later. It’l be fine.’
The muscular definition of his biceps and the sinewy strength of his forearms had her melting against the bedclothes. He was so tanned. Had he worked beneath a hot African sun without his shirt?
‘You’re going to be a great mother, Kit.’
That dragged her attention back. His eyes had darkened to coal and they stared at her intensely as if by their very force they could compel her to believe his words.
‘What makes you so sure?’ she whispered. She wanted to believe him—desperately—but…
‘Look at how much effort you’re going to in order to provide your baby with the best life you can.
You’ve moved back to this place that you love because you think it’s a good place to raise your child. You’ve bought a house and you’re getting it ready for your baby’s arrival. You’re surrounding your baby with a community of people who wil love it almost as much as you wil .’
She bit her lip.
‘Kit?’
She glanced up into those coal-dark eyes again.
‘You love your baby. That’s more important than knowing how to change a nappy or abstaining from caffeine or…or anything! You want to be a mother, right?’
She nodded.
‘Then you’re going to be just fine. You’l learn al the things you need to know about being a mum along the way. You have your family and friends and your baby books to help you. You’l probably make the odd mistake because you’re human like the rest of us, but it won’t mean you love your baby any less and it won’t make you a bad person. It certainly won’t make you a bad mother.’
She blinked, considered his words, and then sent him a shaky smile. ‘You’re right. Thank you. I’m sorry, I just panicked for a bit.’
‘Nothing to apologise for.’
He leaned back in his seat. It highlighted the flatness of his stomach and the way the muscles there coiled and flexed beneath his skin. Her gaze drifted downwards and she noted how the waistband of his jeans sat low on his hips. Her mouth and throat went dry.
‘There’s something I’d like to discuss with you, Kit.
I was going to wait until after your doctor’s appointment, but that’s stil hours away.’
She sensed that he wanted to distract her from brooding on her worries about her baby’s health.
She started to lift her eyes, wanted to thank him again for easing her fears, but his chest and shoulders proved more of a distraction than his words. His chest started to rise and fal with a rhythm that matched hers. Her fingers clenched in the quilt.
A pulse pounded at the base of his throat. Firm, lean lips opened. Heat swirled through her.
That magnificent body leapt up. Kit’s breath caught and she started to lean towards him—
‘I’l be back in a moment.’
The words—hoarse with need—scraped out of his throat and caressed al the hairs on her arms into lifting as if in surrender. He surged out of her room, the muscles in his back rippling, and Kit melted back the muscles in his back rippling, and Kit melted back into her pil ows, her mind too fuzzed to work.