/> “It goes against everything I believe.”
“Then why haven’t you married?”
“Because I hadn’t found the one I wanted to commit myself to for the rest of time.”
Charlotte’s heart fell, and she looked away, teeth catching her lower lip to keep it from quivering.
Brando would marry her because it was the right thing to do, but she wasn’t the one he would have married. And yet yesterday had made her realize she couldn’t manage everything by herself. She’d been prepared to go it alone when she’d felt good and strong, but if there were complications, or if the baby came early, she realized she wouldn’t be able to cope on her own. She didn’t want to struggle alone.
“Remember when we agreed we’d be honest?” she said, stomach in knots, pulse racing.
He nodded.
“I’m going to be honest with you now, but it’s not easy because I like my independence, but it’s a problem.” She glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but his silver gaze hid whatever he was thinking. “I was wrong. I can’t do this on my own.” She drew a quick breath and plunged on. “I can’t even imagine what I would have done if I were in California when this happened. I don’t know what I would have done yesterday without you. I was so scared, and in so much pain.” She pressed her lips together, and counted a few counts, giving her time to gain control over her emotions, not easy when her heart felt bruised and she felt overwhelmed by the reality of her situation. “I try so hard to be independent and handle things, but Brando, I’ve never been so scared in my life. It was too soon for the baby to come, and I just kept thinking of all the problems he’d have if he was born at almost twenty-four weeks.”
“It was scary, but you’re fine, and he’s fine—”
“For now.” She looked up into his face, her gaze meeting his, and holding. This was serious. Important. She needed him to realize just how serious she was now. “But what if I go into labor again? What if the baby is born early? He could have serious challenges—” She broke off, swallowed and continued. “I was naive to think I could do it all, handle it all on my own. Honestly, it wasn’t just naive, it was selfish. He isn’t just my baby, he’s yours, too, and you need to be part of his life.”
“I will be.”
She nodded, again biting down into her tender lower lip. For a moment there was just silence and then she added softly, “You were wonderful yesterday. You were such an advocate and so calm and so strong—” She broke off, fighting to hold back fresh tears, uncertain as to why she was falling apart now. She didn’t cry and yet she felt as if she were a watering pot, tears springing free. “I realized I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you—”
The rest of Charlotte’s thought was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the doctor with a nurse, and they entered her room in the middle of conversation, but the conversation ended as the obstetrician approached the bed.
“How are we today?” Dr. Leonardi asked, glancing from Charlotte to Brando and back again. “I understand it was a restless night for our patient. The night nurse said you were awake much of the night, but we need you to rest.”
Brando looked at Charlotte, a black eyebrow lifting. She ignored it, and him, and answered the doctor. “I didn’t realize hospitals are so noisy, and every time the nurse came in to check on me I’d wake up and then stay awake.” She realized how that sounded and quickly added, “I’m not complaining, I’m just explaining why I couldn’t sleep.”
“You couldn’t pretend it was a fine hotel?” the doctor teased.
“If it was a hotel, I would have phoned the front desk and complained,” she answered with a wry smile. “I think I just had too much time on my own, and no way to distract myself. Brando has promised to send for my computer and then I’ll be able to work if I can’t sleep.”
“Is your work very taxing?” Dr. Leonardi asked. “We don’t want you to do anything that will create stress. It might be better for you to read a relaxing book, nothing too scary or violent. Maybe a romance. My wife reads them and says they’re very good for escaping.”
Charlotte forced a pleasant expression, hiding how she truly felt, as she would never, ever be caught reading a romance. A biography, yes. A history, yes. A cozy mystery, yes. Romances were for those who believed in happy endings. She didn’t, at least, not anymore.
“Do you have an idea of how long you’ll want to keep her here?” Brando asked.
“Another day or two, and then we can evaluate how she’s doing, and how the baby is doing. If both are doing well, I don’t see why Charlotte couldn’t go home with you, but I’d keep her on modified bed rest.”
Charlotte’s heart fell. “For how long?”
“Possibly for the duration of your pregnancy.”
Her jaw dropped. Three months?
Brando crossed his arms over his chest. “What is modified bed rest?”
“It’s a term we use for restricted activity without the stringent dictate to remain completely confined to bed. Every doctor probably has his own definition for it. For me it means limited physical activity, and lengthy morning and afternoon rest periods in bed. I also restrict lovemaking, so no sexual activity, as sex releases prostaglandins that are similar to the medications used to induce labor.”
Charlotte blushed. “That won’t be an issue,” she said unsteadily. “We’re not having sex.”
“It won’t be forever,” the doctor replied with a smile. “After the baby you’ll need a few weeks to heal, and then you should be able to resume sexual intercourse—”
“Any other concerns?” Charlotte interrupted, embarrassed, and more than a little horrified. “Or do I just stay put for the day?”
“Just stay put, and relax, and I’ll be back later this afternoon.” The doctor nodded, smiled and walked out with the nurse.
Charlotte couldn’t even look at Brando. Everything was so strange, and so uncomfortable. Her life seemed to be spinning completely out of control. “So there’s that,” she said, plucking at her covers.
“No sex for us—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she interrupted quickly, heat rushing through her, making her feel tingly and self-conscious. “And you know it. You’re just tormenting me now.”
“Sex is what got us into this situation,” he said mildly. “And it was good sex. Probably the best sex I’ve ever had.”
She jerked her head up as she looked across her room at him. He was leaning against the wall, one shoulder resting against the window trim, sunlight pouring in, haloing his head with golden light. He had a hint of a smile, and there was a glint in his silver eyes that made her tummy flip and her pulse quicken. He was tall and lean, and incredibly handsome.
And he was hers...or had been for one night.
Two days ago he suggested they marry, which meant he could be hers forever.
Would he be happy, though? Would she?
“We were talking about something important when Dr. Leonardi walked in,” he said now, his smile disappearing, his expression turning serious. “Let’s finish that conversation.”
“I don’t remember what we were saying—”
“You’d just said you couldn’t do this alone, and you didn’t want to.” Brando repeated her words back to her, almost exactly as she’d said them. “So what do we do?” he added. “What is our next step?”
Her mouth dried and her pulse jumped, beating too hard in her veins. “You tell me.”
“I want to hear it from you. We both already know what I think.”
She swallowed hard, her mouth feeling as if she’d been sucking on a cotton ball. It took forever to form words, but Brando waited, saying nothing, just watching her with those piercing eyes of his. “You think...you believe...you said, we should...marry.”
“And what do you think?” he said bluntly.
She f
elt another sharp twinge in her chest. “I think we do what’s best for the baby.”
“Which is?”
He wasn’t making this easy, was he? She drew a deep breath, feeling tender and shy. “We get married.”
“When?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “Whenever we can?”
Brando needed to head to the Ricci headquarters for a meeting that couldn’t be postponed, but he promised to be back for a late lunch. He returned two and a half hours later with lunch and her briefcase and her vanity bag. She didn’t know if she was more excited at being able to brush her hair or check her email.
Again Brando’s chef materialized with lunch, and after lunch was cleaned up and put away, Brando opened his laptop and worked, while she worked on hers. She handled the most urgent emails, and then sent emails to others letting them know that she was taking the next few weeks off for a personal matter, but hoped to be working again by the end of the month.
It wasn’t until she got a flurry of email responses from her clients asking if everything was all right that she realized her wording was problematic. Normally Charlotte was an expert at handling sensitive matters but she certainly wasn’t handling her own situation very well.
She didn’t realize she’d muttered any of her frustration out loud until Brando asked what the matter was.
She sighed and rubbed at her temple, trying to make the headache go away. “I think I’ve made a mess of things,” she said. “I reached out to my clients and let them know I’d be taking some time off, and it’s backfired. Everyone is asking if I’m okay, and if there is anything they can do.” She grimaced. “Someone just now wanted to know how they could help. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”
“Read what you wrote.”
“I said I was taking the next few weeks off for a personal matter, but hoped to be back at work by the end of June.” She looked over at him. “I shouldn’t have said ‘personal matter,’ should’ve I?”