Chapter 14
Jayson
“This is real.” I pull her into my arms, holding her still when she attempts to pull free. I can feel myself relax as I hold her tight, and soon she does too. She doesn’t try to get away when I lower my head to kiss her.
I kiss her gently, coaxing her mouth open to slip my tongue inside. Sure, anger prompted the kiss, but the soft strokes are becoming persuasive, not punishing.
With a moan, Harper threads her fingers through my hair, holding my mouth against hers. I’m sure part of her wants to stop. But I want her too much.
Cupping her breast, I gently thumb her hardening nipple. She inhales audibly and I immediately stop. “Did I hurt you?”
“Yes, a little, but in a good way.” A blush reddens her cheeks. Her heart is beating fast.
“I want to make love to you, Harper.”
She touches the tip of her tongue to moisten her lips, watching my eyes follow the movement. “Are there strings attached to your gift?”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “The garden is yours to do with as you wish. I wanted to make you happy, not try to force you into something you clearly find distasteful.”
As I step away, Harper moves forward, pressing her hand to my chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She rests her forehead against my shoulder. “I don’t trust you, Jayson,” she says into my chest, “and I’m not sure what you want, or why you wanted to stay married, but I know you wouldn’t force me into your bed.”
Harper gasps when I wrap my arms around her once more, pulling her so tightly against me that it’s almost uncomfortable. The hard shaft of my desire presses into her belly, and she moves her hand slowly down my body to caress me.
I growl, shaking my head. “No.”
“I thought you wanted this?”
“I do, agape mou, but not on the roof. I want you in my bed, where I’ve dreamed of having you since we got home.”
Harper takes the hand I extend and walks with me back into the house. She casts a glance over her shoulder as we enter the room and I want her even more.
We both forget about the garden as I press up against her, her new curves feeling incredible against my angles and hardness. The bedroom door closes with a resounding thud when I kick it shut, my hands too busy tugging at her clothes.
She pulls my clothes from my body with just as much determination. When we’re naked, I lift her onto the bed, coming down on top of her. My touch ignites a firestorm in both of us that’s been pent up for the last weeks. The heat seems like it will consume us as we spend the next few hours kissing and touching, stroking and exploring.
Afterward, she lies beside me, completely spent. Kissing her lightly, I lay my palm across her stomach. “You are so sexy to me, with my child growing inside you.”
Harper’s lips curve slightly. “I’ll bet you won’t say that in a few months. I’ll be huge.”
“You could be the size of a house and still be beautiful.” I lower my head to kiss the soft skin above her hand. “And sexy.”
She can’t suppress a giggle when my lips tickle her. “I doubt that, but I’ll pretend like it’s true.”
“No more pretending.” My expression turns serious. “We have to talk, about everything.” I stop. How to discuss all this? “I need to tell you…”
Harper puts her finger against my lips. “Hold that thought. I hate to be indelicate, but I have to… you know.” She waves in the direction of the en suite bathroom.
I shake my head, amused. “I am trying to pour my heart out to you, woman.”
The moment stretches, the silence lengthening. Harper seems to want to hear what I’m going to say next, but finally she sits up. Separating from her is almost physically painful. I wonder how I made it almost three weeks without making love with Harper despite all the turmoil.
She hurries to the bathroom, and I hope she finishes as quickly as possible. Then she appears at the door. Her thighs are slick with redness, and she’s frowning. Looking down, we both are frozen for a moment at the blood. My heart forgets how to beat as we stare at the blood on her legs and hand. I’m frozen as my mind processes the implications.
Eventually, I break the paralysis and rush to her, pausing only long enough to grab a robe for her.
“I’m bleeding,” she says, eyes wide.
When I take her into my arms, tears well, and she sobs quietly.
Rubbing her back, I try to calm her. “Don’t cry. That was pretty intense, what we did, Harper. There might not even be a problem.”
She swallows hard, managing a shaky nod. “Maybe.”
“Let me get dressed, and I’ll take you to the hospital, just to make sure. We’ll rule everything out.”
She nods again. “Yes, it’s the sensible decision, but I don’t want to go. If there’s a problem, the hospital will discover it.”
“And they’ll sort it out, and we’ll do everything that needs to be done.” If she’s losing the baby, I don’t know what we’ll do. She cups her stomach, and I place my hands over hers, desperate to protect our unborn child.
* * *
The ride to the hospital is a blur. We take the BMW instead of waiting for the limousine or an ambulance. She closes her eyes for most of the trip as I speed through traffic, negotiating my way through confidently, but at breakneck speed.
I leave the car idling in front of the emergency department entrance. Getting a ticket or the vehicle towed is the least of my problems. Harper leans against me when I put my arm around her, and I hope she’s drawing strength from my support.
The waiting room has only a few people waiting, much to my relief. I check her in while she curls into a chair, hugging herself and with a face that looks as if she’s trying not to cry. She’s still in the robe, and she looks very vulnerable.
When I return to her, I sit in the next chair, and we wait. “How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“My stomach is fluttering and I’m getting some cramps.” By the time a nurse takes us back to a room, I’m quite sure that neither of us are feeling optimistic about the baby’s chances.
Dr. Anderson enters the room a few minutes later. “I called her,” I tell Harper, noticing her surprise.
Dr. Anderson performs an exam as she asks Harper questions. A few moments later, she sits on a stool by Harper’s bed. “Your cervix is still closed, so that’s a good sign. I want to get an ultrasound. The technician will bring in a portable machine as soon as he’s free.”
“He had better be free quickly,” I say, with a hint of steel.
The stool squeaks when the doctor stands up. “I’ll see what I can do to hurry the process, Mr. Satyros.”
When she leaves the room, Harper manages a feeble smile. “You’re shameless, trying to intimidate them into preferential treatment.” I manage a little smile back.
“What good is it to be a captain of industry if I cannot use my position for a few favors?”
She starts to laugh, but a sob emerges instead. I rush to her, lying beside her on the narrow bed and taking her into my arms. “I’m so scared, Jayson.”
“As am I, agape mou.” I squeeze her gently before saying, “I am a selfish bastard.”
Harper turns her head to look at me. “What?”
“Our child is in danger, and all I can think of is that you’ll leave me if you lose the baby.” I study her intently. “Promise me you won’t leave, even if the baby is… gone.”
Harper sighs. “I can’t do this right now, Jayson. I can’t promise anything. I can’t even think clearly. I just need to know he’s okay.”
After a second, I nod, drawing her close again. “Of course. I told you I am a selfish bastard.”
She shakes her head against my shoulder. “No. You have done some things that might be wrong, but I don’t doubt you did them for reasons you believed justified the end results. You had to protect Sophie and the company. It’s her inheritance.”
“Harper — ”
The arrival of an ultrasound technician interrupts anything I might say. He gives a frown of disapproval at seeing me in the bed with Harper, but at least he has the good sense not to say anything.
The cold gel makes her wince when he squirts it on her stomach a couple of minutes later, and I want to yell at him. “I hope we can get this abdominally,” comments the technician. “The other way isn’t pleasant.” Harper winces again.
Fortunately, the man gets a clear picture and spends a few minutes looking at the screen, not uttering a word. I can’t even discern where the baby is, so I know nothing more when the man leaves to get the obstetrician.
The wait is interminable, though Dr. Anderson can’t have taken more than five minutes to arrive. Without speaking, she also performs an ultrasound. Harper studies the doctor’s face, but her expression is impassive.
Finally, Dr. Anderson puts away the probe and scoots the stool closer. “I’m sorry, Harper, but the baby stopped growing a couple of weeks ago.”
She shakes her head. “No. I still feel pregnant. I’ve had morning sickness, afternoon sickness, and fatigue.”
Dr. Anderson seems genuinely sad. “The baby is gone. Your body just doesn’t know it yet.”
I take her hand when the doctor finishes speaking. “What happens now?” I ask.
“I can admit you to the hospital overnight for a D and C in the morning, or you can take medication at home to induce the miscarriage.”
“No. I couldn’t bear the thought of that. I don’t want to have to know, have to feel it.” I understand.
“Okay.” Dr. Anderson makes a notation on the computer before turning to me. “We’ll do the procedure around nine in the morning, and you should be able to pick her up by two.”
My mouth tenses. “I’m not leaving her.”
She doesn’t try to argue with me. “I’ll get you two into a room as quickly as possible.”
* * *
Late the next afternoon, Harper clings to my arm as I lead her into the apartment building from the parking garage. The anesthetic has left her woozy, but it hasn’t dulled the emotional pain. Tears are intermittently streaming down her face. The elevator ferries us to our floor, and I open the door with my key rather than waiting for a maid to open it.
As she crosses the threshold, tears slip from her eyes. “It’s unbelievable that I was pregnant the last time I stood here.” The tears intensify.
I don’t try to get her to stop crying — I merely lift her, carrying her to our room. Putting her down briefly, I open the door before taking her to my bed. Harper curls into a ball of misery, curving into me when I lie beside her, holding her as she weeps.
As she lets out her grief, Harper looks at me, I’m sure seeing the tears on my cheeks too. She cries harder, and I hold her tighter.