Christine Rimmer - Not Quite Married

“Thank you,” she said with careful control, keeping her voice just loud enough to be heard by him and him alone. “Tell you what, why don’t you join me in my office when you’re finished eating? We can speak privately. It’s through that arch on the right as you’re facing the counter.”

He frowned up at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why are you always asking me that?” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Because you look like you’re about to fall over.”

She lifted a hand and smoothed her scraped-back hair. “I’m just fine, thank you. My office, then?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“No hurry. Take your time.” Take forever. Please.

He nodded and picked up his fork again. She seized the moment and made her escape. Head high, giant belly leading the way, she turned for the back rooms.

In her office, she shut the door, sagged against it and stared blindly at the tiny window high on the back wall that looked out on the alley. Really, she didn’t feel well.

Her hands were chilly; her forehead was sweating. Her stomach churned and her overworked heart pounded away like a herd of wild mustangs trapped inside her chest.

What did he want from her?

To break her heart all over again?

For the past eight months, her previously well-ordered life had veered right off the rails into Crazyland. Her life had been one giant, tangled ball of anxiety and upheaval for way, way too long.

Logically, she knew that it wasn’t Dalton’s fault, that they’d had an agreement on the island and she was the one who’d wanted to make it more than it was. But in her heart, she blamed him. For not being there. For not wanting her more, for not being the perfect man she’d let herself imagine he was.

A tap on the door.

Time to face him again.

She pressed cold fingers to her hot, itchy eyelids and dragged herself up straight.

“Clara?” His voice, from the other side of the door. Gentle, for once. Maybe even a little concerned.

She didn’t need or want his concern. “Yes. Yes, all right.” She pulled the door wide.

And there he was, looking so good she wanted to break down and cry. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough on the island. And now, since she’d told him about the baby, she couldn’t get rid of him.

It was all so very confusing.

She opened her mouth to tell him...what?

She didn’t even know what to say to him.

And then it turned out it didn’t matter that she couldn’t think of what to say. Because before she could get a word out, she fainted dead away.

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