Soraya Lane - The Secretary's Secret / Rodeo Daddy - The Secretary's Secret / Rodeo Daddy

He stood and pretended to survey the sofas. ‘You know what? The plastic-wrapped look was a smart choice. I think it could really take off.’

She didn’t smile.

‘I hear babies make a lot of mess. You might want to keep this look for the next three or four years.’

He couldn’t believe he’d said the word babies without flinching. ‘You know, we could plastic-wrap the whole interior of this room. You could just hose it down at the end of every day. It’d save you loads of time.’ He was glad he’d made the effort when her lips shifted upwards the tiniest fraction.

He shook himself. Enough of this. ‘C’mon, let’s get you to the medical clinic.’ He reached down and helped her to her feet. He didn’t release her arm. ‘Are you feeling dizzy or faint?’ Should he carry her to the car?

His skin pulled tight with need. It rocked him to find just how much he wanted to touch her, to have her in his arms.

She shook her head. Carefully, as if the action hurt. ‘I just feel as if I have a bad case of the flu without the sore throat and sniffles.’

His chest clenched. The sooner she saw a doctor the sooner she’d get medicine—antibiotics or whatnot—to make her feel better. But when she removed her arm from his grasp all he could think for a moment was how the day had darkened. They were just about to leave when they found the door blocked by two figures.

‘Hello, lovey, we’re Frank and Doreen from next door.’ An elderly couple tripped into the room. ‘Hello, Kit dear.’

He blinked. Lovey? Him? Nobody … nobody had ever called him lovey. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck.

‘Hi, Auntie Doreen.’

Her aunt!

‘The boys just told us what happened. We thought we’d pop our heads in to see if there’s anything we can do.’ Doreen turned to Alex. ‘Frank here used to be a welder, you know.’

Frank here looked about seventy in the shade.

‘He’s handy with his hands.’

And then she winked at him.

Alex swallowed back a smart rejoinder. How on earth did a welder propose to fix a hole in a wall, not to mention another in the roof? Even if he was handy with his hands .

Nevertheless, when the older man extended his hand Alex shook it. ‘Alex Hallam.’ He glanced at Kit. She looked ready to drop. ‘I’m sorry, but Kit is running a temperature. We’re off to the medical clinic.’ He waved a hand at the mess. ‘I’ll deal with all this later.’

‘You run along, lovey, while we see what we can do.’

He didn’t want this unconventional pair messing with Kit’s house. Things were bad enough already.

‘We’ll close the door when we leave.’

Kit didn’t seem concerned or put out by Doreen’s words so he shrugged and edged her towards the door.

Doreen leant across to squeeze Kit’s hand as they passed. ‘So glad your young man has finally arrived.’

‘Oh, but he isn’t—’

‘Young,’ Alex bit out. He continued to shepherd her all the way out of the door and towards his car. They didn’t have time for explanations.

Alex accompanied Kit into the doctor’s consulting room. She didn’t put up a fight, but he had a feeling that had more to do with how unwell she was feeling rather than a sign of her trust in him.

The doctor frowned and pointed to a chair when Alex started pacing up and down. He planted himself in it and tried not to fidget. Then he scowled. The doctor looked as if he was just out of high school! Surely he was too young to know which way was up, let alone—

‘Relax, Alex,’ Kit groaned.

Relax? How could he relax when she looked like death warmed up? Why hadn’t he picked up on that earlier? He could have unknowingly made her worse. He’d walked into her house as if he’d had every right and demanded she come back to work. Without a thought for what she really wanted. All to ease his conscience. As if he knew what would make her happiest. As if he knew what was best for her.

He knew zilch.

He dragged a hand back through his hair. He did know one thing. When a woman told you she was pregnant with your child, you shouldn’t throw up. Bad reaction. Wrong reaction. Completely inappropriate.

And completely out of his control.

But … Kit was carrying his child ?

He slammed a wall down on that thought.

Not his baby, Kit’s. And if Kit lost her baby because of anything he’d done—

Bile rose up to burn his throat. He choked it back. He would never forgive himself if that happened. Never.

‘Kit, you have a kidney infection. I suspect you’ve had a urinary tract infection, not all that unusual during pregnancy, which has travelled to your kidneys.’

Alex’s head snapped up at the doctor’s words. ‘How serious is that?’ he barked. It sounded bad.

Kit didn’t look at him, but her hands shook. He clenched his to fists. ‘What he said,’ she whispered.

‘We’ve caught it early.’

Her hands cradled her abdomen and Alex couldn’t take his eyes from them. Such small, fragile hands.

‘Will my baby be okay?’

‘Yes. As long as you do everything I say.’

Kit swallowed and nodded. Alex leaned forward to make sure he caught every word the doctor uttered.

‘I’m booking you in for an ultrasound on …’ he surveyed his computer ‘… on Thursday. It’ll put both you and your regular doctor’s minds at rest. I’ll also prescribe you a course of antibiotics, and no, they won’t harm your baby,’ he added before Kit could ask. ‘But, until your ultrasound, I want you to have complete bed rest.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘You can get up to go to the bathroom. You can have a quick shower or tepid bath once a day. But the rest of the time I want you in bed.’

Kit’s hands twisted in her lap. ‘I … ‘

The doctor peered at her over the top of his glasses. ‘It’s better to be safe than sorry, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, of course. It’s just … ‘

The doctor turned to Alex. ‘She’ll need someone to stay with her, look after her.’

Alex nodded, ignoring the way his stomach dropped. ‘I’ll do that.’ Thursday? He could stay till Thursday, or even the weekend. Kit wouldn’t be sick if she wasn’t pregnant. And she wouldn’t be pregnant if it wasn’t for him.

Thursday or the weekend? It was the least he could do.

He could see that Kit didn’t like the idea. In fact, she probably loathed it. Not that he could blame her.

The doctor pointed at Kit. ‘You rest. It’s important, you hear?’

Kit nodded and swallowed. ‘I hear.’

Alex wanted to hit the doctor for frightening her.

The doctor’s glare transferred itself to Alex. ‘She’s to have no stress, no worry. She’s not to be upset in any way.’

Alex’s hands clenched as fear punched through him then too. ‘Right.’ No stress, no worry. He could manage that. For Kit. Till Thursday. Or the weekend.

‘I don’t need you to stay with me, Alex,’ Kit said the moment he pulled his car to a halt out the front of her house and turned off the ignition.

He didn’t blame her for not wanting him there. In her shoes he wouldn’t want him staying over either, but hadn’t she heard a word the doctor said? She needed someone to stay with her, look after her. He wasn’t leaving until someone trustworthy was here to fill his shoes.

‘I’m happy to call one of your friends or a relative—perhaps your aunt Doreen—to stay with you, but I’m not leaving you alone, Kit. You heard what the doctor said,’ he added when she opened her mouth to argue.

She closed it again. She looked pale and wrung out, and he grimaced. ‘Look, this is the story, Kit. I’m staying in Tuncurry tonight. Now, whether that’s on one of your new sofas or in a hotel room is up to you.’