fix it.
“We’ll be there,” Logan said calmly. “You’ll be riding with us.”
***
The next morning, Rhys got up and dressed for work, but to Catherine’s shock, Logan stayed in bed, his arm draped possessively over her body.
She was debating whether or not to wake Logan when Rhys returned to the bed and bent over and kissed her.
“I have to run in for a few minutes and sign a few documents for Paige, but I’ll be back in time for your appointment.”
“Rhys, what about Logan?” she whispered.
Rhys smiled. “What about him?”
“Would you two please be quiet,” Logan said in irritation. “It’s damn hard to sleep with you carrying on a conversation in my ear.”
Rhys chuckled, kissed Catherine one more time and headed for the door.
She turned as best she could under Logan’s arm so she could face him. “Are you sick?” she asked. “Are you feeling okay?”
He pried one eye open and stared balefully at her. “I’m fine.”
“Logan, you’ve never slept this late in your life. You never miss work.”
“I do today.” He leaned into her and kissed her. His hand glided up her body until his palm cradled the side of her neck. “And I plan to do a lot more of it. Is that going to be a problem for you, Mrs. Wellesley?”
Her mouth widened in shock, and he took swift advantage. His tongue licked deliciously over her lips and slid inside, warm and slightly rough.
“We’ve got a couple hours before your appointment. Why don’t we sleep a little longer, take a shower together and then I’ll make you breakfast,” he murmured as he stole little kisses.
She burrowed into his arms, forgetting her reserve and that she was valiantly trying to guard herself from further hurt. She laid her cheek against his bare chest and closed her eyes, just enjoying the perfection of one simple moment.
Chapter Seventeen
Her stomach in knots, Catherine sat between Logan and Rhys in the waiting room. They sensed her anxiety, because they touched her frequently—gentle, reassuring caresses meant to alleviate her concerns.There hadn’t been anything to suggest there was a problem with her pregnancy. Her recovery from her surgery had been uncomplicated and swift. But she could still taste the fear, heavy on her tongue, still remember that one terrible moment waking up and knowing without a doubt she’d lost her child.
Her stomach gave a violent twist when her name was announced. Clutching at Logan’s and Rhys’ hands, she made her way toward the door on unsteady feet.
She went through the preliminaries mechanically. Peed in a cup, let the nurse take vitals and answered questions in a monotone. Logan and Rhys both looked at her in concern, but her single-minded focus was on seeing her baby.
She half-feared that when they did the ultrasound, they’d find something horrible. A shudder worked over her shoulders.
Several agonizing minutes—what seemed like hours—later, the doctor came in, pushing a portable ultrasound. He smiled and greeted her then nodded at Logan and Rhys.
“Are you ready to see your baby, Mrs. Wellesley?” the doctor asked.
She nodded, unable to speak for fear she’d throw up.
Logan helped her lie back, and the doctor tucked a sheet in the waistband of her pants and pulled downward to expose the slight swell of her belly. Then he arranged her shirt just below her breasts.
Rhys stood at the head of the exam table, and she reached upward, finding his hand. Logan watched from her feet, both his hands curled around her ankles as his fingers worked in nervous patterns.
They were as worried as she was.
The doctor worked in silence. He squirted warm gel on her belly then took the probe and worked it in a tight circle, spreading the goo.
Everything else faded away but the screen and the black blurs working in and out of focus. She wasn’t conscious of holding her breath until she grew lightheaded. She blew it out in a long stream then sucked in deeply.
“There we are,” the doctor said as he pointed at the monitor.
Catherine stared in wonder at the screen. She could make out a head and a body. She could see arms and legs. The baby was moving.
She listened in a daze as the doctor pointed out features. He showed her the heart rate, eyes, nose, the mouth.
It was a miracle.
“Do you want to know what you’re having?” the doctor asked.
She opened her mouth, and it hung there. Did she want to know? God, it didn’t matter. Her baby was okay.
“Cat, do you want to know if it’s a boy or