Ivan 2 (Her Russian Protector #9) - Roxie Rivera Page 0,62

men in the world, to be her man.

Certain he would forget to mention the PT question, he wrote a note and stuck it to her computer monitor. He was surprised to see that she hadn’t cleared her desk as she normally did at the end of her workday. Whatever he had walked in on, whatever had caused Ruby to cry like that, had to have been terrible. It had been so jarring it had interrupted Erin’s normal workflow.

He moved the mouse to put her computer to sleep, but her open email caught his attention. She sorted and emptied her inbox every single day. She was meticulous about keeping an uncluttered inbox, so seeing that many messages waiting for her reply was strange. Wanting to help if he could, he glanced at the subjects to see if he could answer any of them.

But he didn’t get beyond the first email.

It had been sent less than ten minutes ago from the fertility clinic. The subject made it clear it was both of their preliminary results. He hesitated before clicking to open it. Worried that the results would upset Erin if they confirmed her fears, he decided it was better to read it first so he could deliver the information in a way that would protect her gentle heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of her crying or blaming herself for being unable to make a baby with him. He meant what he had said a hundred different times. He hadn’t married her for her womb. He had married her for her heart and her goodness and the way she loved him.

There were several attached lab reports, but he skipped downloading them and read the message from the nurse instead. He didn’t understand what he was reading at first. The medical terms jumped out at him. Volume. Morphology. Motility. Total Count.

He collapsed onto her desk chair as his shocked brain finally understood. He read the message from the nurse again and again. Normal ejaculate volume. Poor motility. Very low sperm count. Normal morphology.

Poor motility.

Very low.

It’s me.

I’m the reason Erin can’t get pregnant.

The bottom dropped out of his stomach as a reality he had never even considered washed over him like acid. He had never had problems getting hard. He had never had problems ejaculating. He had never had an STD. He was fit and healthy.

This can’t be right. I’m not sterile.

He read the results again and found the attached semen analysis report. He read each line and the notes from the lab. Each result twisted like a knife to his gut. He could feel his happy life and future with Erin slipping away with every word and number on the analysis.

He returned to the email and read to the end. The doctor wanted him to repeat the analysis two more times and refer him to a dick doctor. She suspected he had suffered an injury at some point in the past that had caused his problems.

Memories of groin strikes in the heat of combat and accidental hits to the nuts during training raced through his mind. The carefree way he had laughed off those injuries, the way he had carelessly exposed himself to damage for money and pride, sickened him now. The stupid choices he had made as a younger man were robbing him of the future he wanted with his wife.

Erin.

Oh, fuck.

Erin.

Gripped in a panic, he shot to his feet. All this time she had suffered and berated herself for failing to conceive, and the whole time he was the problem. He was the reason she couldn’t have a baby. He was the reason she was unhappy and brokenhearted.

She’ll leave.

The thought struck him cold. Erin wanted a family more than anything. She was born to be a mother, and if he couldn’t give her that, she would have every right to leave and find a better man. A whole man. A real man.

An invisible vise squeezed his chest so tightly he couldn’t breathe. For a moment, he thought he might be having a heart attack. He leaned forward, both hands on her desk, and closed his eyes. He tried to slow his racing heart and breathe deeply, but his body fought him at every step—his stupid, useless body.

“Ivan?” Paco asked in a rush of concern. “Estás bien?”

“I...need...to...go,” he spoke haltingly, each word a battle to grit out between his clenched jaw.

“Is it Erin?” Paco hurried into the office. “Did something happen to her?”

He shook his head and exhaled a shuddery breath. “No,