Read Online Not Quite Married by Christine Rimmer - Free Book Online Page B

glanced back at her one more time. “Later, Clara.” He said it lightheartedly, with his famous sexy grin.
    And then he was gone.
    She waited for Dalton to start quizzing her about what had been said in his absence.
    But he only asked, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
    Which made her feel way too tenderly toward him.
    She thanked him and assured him there was nothing she needed.
    He took the chair by the bed. She settled back and dozed for a while. Dinner arrived. After the meal, he went out for half an hour or so and came back with a leather duffel.
    When she asked what it was, he said, “A shaving kit, something to sleep in.”
    “So...you’re staying the night?” She wasn’t really sure how she felt about that.
    He looked at her intently from under his dark eyebrows. “You have a problem with that?”
    Did she? She still couldn’t decide and ended up saying kind of limply, “I think it’s unnecessary, that’s all.”
    “Do you want me to sleep on a chair in the waiting room, then?”
    “I—”
    “Because I’m not going anywhere until we’ve seen your doctor in the morning.”
    She gave in. Because, really, she wanted him there more than she wanted him gone. “No. You can stay here in the room with me.”
    “Thank you,” he said in a tone edged with irony.
    At a little before nine, the nurses rolled in a bed for him.
    He took his duffel into the bathroom and came out wearing sweats and a blue Henley shirt that hugged his powerful shoulders and arms and made an absurd little ache in the center of her belly—to have those arms around her again, holding her close, the way they had done every night on the island.
    Clara banished that ache. She took her turn in the bathroom and then he switched off the light and they settled in for the night.
    She expected to lie there awake for hours, staring into the darkness, listening to the unfamiliar hospital sounds all around her, wondering what he was thinking, wishing she didn’t care.
    But she shut her eyes and pulled the blankets up more snugly around her—and that was it. Sleep just kind of mowed her down.
    * * *
    They drew her blood again very early in the morning. Dr. Kapur came in several hours later, at nine thirty. Dalton went out so the doctor could give Clara a quick exam.
    He came back in to hear the prognosis.
    “You’re simply under too much stress,” the doctor said. “Your cortisol levels are elevated and your blood pressure’s higher than it should be. You need to take it easy.”
    Clara gulped. “What, exactly, does that mean?”
    “I want you on modified bed rest until the baby’s born. No working, no driving, limited activity. You may sit on the sofa and surf the Web, stand up long enough to take a shower or make a sandwich. Basically, you’re going to be splitting your day between the couch and the bed. Catch up on your daytime television,” the doctor advised with a grin.
    “I don’t watch daytime television.” Was this really happening? “I don’t have time for daytime television.”
    “Now you will,” said Dalton a little too firmly. Clara opened her mouth to tell him to stay of it.
    But then Dr. Kapur asked, “Are there stairs at your house?”
    Clara’s head was spinning. “Yes, I...”
    “Avoid going up and down them.”
    “I... No stairs? And no working ? At all?”
    “None. That’s of major importance. Whatever arrangements you’ve made for the birth and recovery go into effect as of now. You’re going to be taking it very easy.” Dr. Kapur turned to Dalton. “Reducing her stress is the key. We need to keep a close eye on her. Lots of liquids, too.”
    “Of course,” Dalton answered gravely. “I’ll see to it she gets proper care.”
    Clara wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. But there was no point in arguing with him in front of her doctor. “No driving, even?”
    “That’s right. No driving,” Dr. Kapur confirmed. “I’ll want to see you again in one week. Call my office and set up