Prognosis Christmas Baby - Amy Andrews Page 0,55

the baby were his duty. But holding her close like this now, feeling her body move against his, knowing their baby was nestled between them, he knew he’d made a grave error.

He knew he loved her more than he’d ever loved anything in his life.

But, did she feel the same way? She’d never indicated she had deeper feelings for him and had seemed more than fine with him going overseas and being a remote father for the first couple of years. She hadn’t clung to him like more than one woman from his past had done, she hadn’t asked him to stay or had a tantrum that he was leaving.

Maybe she’d got the one thing from him that she’d always wanted — a baby — and he was totally superfluous to her now. A third wheel. Excess baggage.

Collateral damage.

Even thinking about it made him feel panicked and desperate. She had to love him back.

She just had to.

He didn’t want to be an outsider in his family. Live across the other side of the world while the woman he loved built a relationship with his child without him. While they became a family without him.

He wanted to be a part of it all.

He knew then and there that he couldn’t go to London. Didn’t want to go. And, surprisingly, it didn’t even matter.

Only Maggie mattered. Maggie and his baby.

Maggie almost sighed as the warm cotton of his shirt caressed her cheek and one beautifully rounded pectoral formed a perfect pillow. She was weary and it was stuffy on the dance floor, crammed full of hot, sweaty bodies.

Nash’s heartbeat thudded in her ear and she shut her eyes, letting its rhythm and the drift of starch and his aftershave lull her into a world where just the two of them existed. She felt light-headed as the crush around them loomed close and she leant into him a little more.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Nash said as the song drew to an end. He wanted to get her home so they could talk.

Maggie pulled her head off his chest and felt the room shift. She swayed a little.

‘Whoa. Maggie?’ Nash grabbed her. ‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded, his pulse rate skyrocketing as images of her still, bloodied body returned to taunt him.

Was something going on in her head? Damn it, he should have insisted she have the X-ray.

‘Nothing,’ Maggie said faintly, pushing against the imprisoning wall of his chest. ‘It’s just so hot in here.’

Nash didn’t like the look of her sudden pallor and swept her up into his arms.

‘Nash!’ she protested, clinging to his neck weakly, watching the jaws of bystanders drop as he strode out of the ballroom.

‘We’re leaving. Don’t argue.’

Maggie daren’t talk in the car on the way back to her place. Nash’s face, usually so laid-back and relaxed, was as dark as thunder. She knew he was blaming himself for their early departure and really didn’t want to hear an I-told-you-so from him.

He turned the engine off outside her place and she opened her mouth to speak, to tell him it had just been a bit of light-headedness.

‘Don’t,’ he growled as he let the seat belt snap quickly back into its receptacle, the buckle clinking loudly against the glass of the window.

Maggie sat while he strode around to her side, opened the door, helped her out and kept a firm grip on her as they walked up the path. ‘I’m—’

‘Don’t,’ he repeated.

Maggie waited while he opened her door and followed him into the lounge room. She’d left the Christmas tree lights on but even they failed to elevate his mood.

‘Sit.’ Nash pointed to the lounge chair.

Maggie was tempted to say yes master but thought it wise not to push. He paced for a bit and she watched without comment. He stopped and looked down at her then resumed his pacing, shrugging out of his jacket and flinging it on the coffee table.

She found herself hoping he wouldn’t stop there. There was something about brooding, intense Nash that was darkly sexy.

‘I’m not going to London.’

Maggie blinked, dragging her mind out of the gutter. So not what she’d expected him to say. She’d expected a lecture about the stupidity of going out after a concussion. That he’d warned her it was folly. Of thinking about her health and the baby.

All things loaded with duty and responsibility.

‘Wh-what?’

‘You heard me.’

He glowered forebodingly but Maggie stood anyway. ‘What are you talking about?’

Nash pointed to the chair. ‘Sit.’

Maggie raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Nash, for goodness