The Billionaire's Illicit Twins - Holly Rayner Page 0,57

to turn my attention from Ethan’s laugh to the work sitting in front of me, when the pain started. A gigantic cramping sensation that moved right across my belly and then into my back, as if someone was actually trying to split me in half.

I doubled over, a shocked groan escaping my mouth, and the secretary who had been walking by stopped suddenly in my doorway, her eyes enormous.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked.

I grunted again, unable to get enough air past my squeezing lungs to use my voice, and struggled to force myself to relax. I had to talk to her if I was going to get help, and there was no doubt in my mind that I needed help. Because I was eight months pregnant with twins, and pain ripping through my abdomen could only mean one thing.

I wasn’t a full forty weeks along yet. I was at only thirty-seven. But these babies had evidently decided that they’d waited long enough. I had to get to the hospital, like, now.

Chapter 32

Bella

I sent the secretary running to use her phone to call a cab—because even though I was in labor, I knew I’d never be able to afford an ambulance—and then grabbed my own. I dialed Ethan’s number before I could really think about it—and before I could stop myself.

I blame the insane pain I was in. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was the only possible answer for that instinctive phone call. That desperate need to have him beside me at that moment.

He answered on the first ring, just like he’d been doing for the last six months, and part of the squeeze on my heart eased a bit.

“Ethan,” I gasped.

“Oh my God, Bells, are you okay?” he asked, his voice tense. “Is it time? Are you in labor? Which hospital are you going to? Wait, strike that, I already know. I’ll meet you there. And Bella, please be careful. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

He hung up while my mouth was still open, my brain still spinning as it tried to work through the pain to figure out what I wanted to say to him. But as it turned out, I hadn’t had to say anything.

Because as usual, he’d known exactly what I meant, and exactly what I needed, and figured out how to provide it without me having to say a word.

And then my body started realizing that it had to actually move, rather than just sitting here being shocked about the whole thing happening. I’d known for months that I was pregnant. This wasn’t a surprise. This wasn’t unexpected.

I was a woman with a plan, and this being-in-labor thing was no different.

I jerked to my feet, taking advantage of the sudden easing of the cramps in my belly, and made quickly for the coat closet in my office. I threw open the door, already grabbing for the coat I had left hanging in there and the duffel bag I’d packed months ago and stashed here just in case the whole thing went down when I was in the office.

It wasn’t a fancy bag, but it did have everything I needed: toothbrush, face wash, moisturizer, some makeup that I thought I’d probably never wear. Pajamas. Clothes for going home in. The outfits I’d chosen for the babies to go home in.

The blankets Ethan had ordered for them, one green and one yellow (because I had flat-out refused blue and pink as colors). And one of the books he’d bought for me in the Hamptons—plus the journal. Because I knew I was going to be out of it for quite a bit of this visit, but I also wanted to be able to write everything down, if I could.

I wanted to be able to remember the things that I might forget otherwise.

Another cramp tore across my abdomen and I bent over double, crying out at the sudden pain of it. I’d read plenty of books about giving birth, but now I realized that nothing could have prepared me for that feeling. No amount of text could have told me exactly how going into labor would feel. Nothing could have warned me about the sudden terror I felt—both for myself and my babies. The terror that something was wrong, or that something was going to go wrong in the next however-long-it-took.

A second later, though, there were hands on my back and supporting me, and I looked up through my tears to see the secretary who had been in