Panic sets in like an old friend. I feel like I can’t breathe as I stroke Violet’s head and pray to the man upstairs that it’s nothing when it’s anything but.

I recognize the look on the nurse’s face when she comes in to get Violet’s vitals. It’s too kind, like she knows a secret but can’t be the one to break it to the family. I remember wearing that face many times in the NICU.

“This can be normal. We’ve alerted the doctor. He’ll be down as soon as he can.”

The worry on her face tells a different story.

Chase is voicing his displeasure and I place a hand on his arm to stop him. I shake my head when he looks at me. Though he’s frustrated beyond measure, he silences his protest.

When she leaves, I say, “Violet isn’t the doctor’s only patient. It’s just a low-grade fever.”

I take his hand in mine and squeeze. When he draws me in a hug, I take a moment to let the mask on my face drop and breathe in his scent.

“I can’t lose her,” Chase says.

It frightens me to the core. He’s been the strong one, keeping the Team Wilde mantra going when I had moments of weakness.

“You won’t,” I say, meaning it like I can trade my life for hers.

The truth is, I’d planned to pray to anyone listening for just that. This man above anyone deserves the time I stole from him.

“Mama.”

Violet’s voice is weak and I leave Chase’s comfort to give it to our daughter.

She’s asleep when the doctor finally comes in, which feels like hours later.

“I’ll be honest with you. The fever is concerning.” Duh, I want to scream, but it would disturb our little girl. Chase must sense it, but he wraps a protective arm around me. “It may not be anything more than a minor reaction to the marrow or the drug we administered. I’m going to change the drug and see if that helps before we jump to any conclusions.”

We nod and he leaves as silently as he arrived.

“You should go to the hotel,” Chase suggests.

“No, I can’t leave.” Though I’m ripe for the picking and need a shower in the worst way, I can’t leave yet. “But you should,” I say.

In the end, we tough it out, neither of us speaking, lost in our thoughts in separate chairs. We are both on edge and a divide begins to form between us, or maybe it’s just me imagining it.

I miss his touch and stare at him from what feels like miles away. Finally, he looks at me.

As if in slow motion, his hand rises and a finger points at me. “This is your fault. You did this.”

All the air is sucked from my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. I’m trying to say his name when I’m jolted awake.

“I’m here,” Chase says.

And he is. His eyes are kind and not the accusing ones from the nightmare I had experienced. I pull him close, needing his warmth to wash away the dream that was so real.

“Violet’s fine. Her fever is gone.”

“What?” I separate us and glance at my daughter’s sleeping form. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“A couple of hours.”

I blink away that realization.

“Chase, I’m—”

His hand is on my lips. “You need rest.” When I glare at him, he adds, “We both do. Our moms have spoken. They are sending us to the hotel—” He lifts a finger to his lips and I suck in the words I’d been about to say. “—Just for a few hours.”

I lift my head and spot both of our mothers outside the glass. Mom’s eyebrow lifts in that stern way that brooks no argument.

“Fine, I could use a shower, but I’m not staying long,” I say.

“Agreed.”

We ditch our gear after warning them to contact us the moment Violet wakes or any sign of the smallest of problems.

Though guilt weighs upon me, I reluctantly leave, remembering the many times I’ve had to shoo parents away. We need a recharge, I tell myself.

As soon as we are in the hotel, I’m determined to get in and out.

“I’ll shower first,” I say over my shoulder, studiously ignoring the bed.

I rip off my clothes, flinging them to the floor as I walk. The bath isn’t huge. I head straight for the walk-in shower, holding the glass as I reach for the knob. I’m turning the water on when a warm body presses to my back.

He spins me around and he’s just as naked.

“Chase—”

“Taking one together will save time.”

And he’s right. When his mouth crashes down on mine, all the demons that have been whispering in my ear that he hates me disappear.

I gasp as he steps me back into the tepid spray. Though the water is cool, his feverish kiss has set all my nerve endings on fire. It’s been weeks of not a touch between us, and it’s this connection that reminds me of how much I need him this way.

He crushes me against the tile wall as warmer water rains down on us.

“I need you,” he says, just as he hikes me up, my back sliding up the wall.

“Please,” I beg, not needing to be primed.

I’m wet and ready in more ways than one. His lips leave mine and glide down my neck to that spot that causes me to squirm.

I feel the heavy weight of his cock pressed between us as his mouth finds one of my breasts.

“Now,” I cry out. “Now.”

Then it’s there probing my entrance, and when he slams home, I feel almost virginal it’s been so long.

He stills, his head buried in my neck, breathing hard.

“Damn, you’re tight.”

It’s true and I feel every inch of him as my body adjusts to his presence.

He teases me by pulling out devilishly slow, before just as patiently sliding back in.

“You’re killing me,” I complain.

I’m held up, gripped in his hold, unable to move on my own above a wiggle, which I do.

“Stop.” His voice is gritty like his jaw is tightly clenched. “Or it will be over before it begins.”

I freeze because I’m close, but not that close, and I want this as much as he does.

He bucks his hips, once then twice before gliding into a rhythm that has my pulse rising. It’s hard and fast and everything we both need. I cry out as I spasm around him and he pulses inside me.

It’s true what they say about sex. I’d been tired and cranky when I walked into the bathroom. Every one of my muscles had been tense. Now, I feel like a noodle, loose and limber in his arms, breathing hard.

“You’re mine,” he finally says. His voice bounces off the walls in a growl. “This is mine, and when Violet gets out, tell me you’ll walk down that aisle and make this official.”

I giggle a little, dizzy post-sex. “Haven’t we already talked about this?”

He’s not amused when he says, “I need you to say it again.”

And I realize, much as I’ve been, he’s scared about our daughter too. I meet his wary stare. “I’m yours. I always have been. And when we take our daughter from this hospital and she’s well enough to participate in our small wedding—” I eye him. I’m not really interested in a huge wedding, just big enough for family and close friends. “—I will be your wife, something I’ve dreamed about since I was old enough.”

His frown tips up into a smile. He lets me get to my feet where he worships me with soap and his hands. Just when I think I’m lathered up, head to toe, he rinses off my inner thighs and uses his tongue to make me scream his name. When he’s done, it’s my turn.

I’m on my knees, his cock buried in my throat when he frees himself, tugs me to my feet, spins me around, and drives into me from behind. My pussy is slick from working him and he easily drives home. This time is longer, a little rougher, and every bit as pleasurable. His thrusts hit every magic button in my body and I have liftoff twice before he comes long and hard inside me.

We are both panting and trying to steady ourselves when we hear not one, but both of our phones buzz from the other room.