His eyes were glowing. He could feel it—the green light bleeding through as Hyde hovered just beneath his skin.
“I’m not pulling back,” he said, needing her to understand. “But if this escalates?—”
“Then we’ll deal with it.” Her fingers traced his jaw. “Together.”
Together,Hyde echoed, satisfied.
He kissed her again, softer this time but no less affecting. His enlarged hands splayed across her back, and when she shifted to straddle his lap—awkward with the baby but determined—he helped her settle, supporting her weight like it was nothing.
“Comfortable?” His voice was rougher than normal, edged with Hyde’s growl.
“Perfect.” She looped her arms around his neck. “This is perfect.”
Perfect and terrifying and everything he had convinced himself he couldn’t have. But as she kissed him again, her fingers threading through his hair and her pregnant belly pressed between them, he found himself wanting to try. Wanting to believe that he could have this, have her, without destroying everything in the process.
CHAPTER 15
The pain started as a dull ache across Chloe’s lower back while she was cataloging receipts from 1847. She shifted position, trying to relieve the pressure. Maybe she’d been sitting cross-legged too long. Her hips had started protesting the position lately, even though it had been comfortable for weeks. The ache intensified, spreading around to her belly.
She set down the receipts and placed both hands on her bump. Firm. Tighter than usual.
Just the baby moving, she told herself. The little one’s been active all day.
But the tightness didn’t ease. Instead it built to a peak—not unbearable, but definitely uncomfortable—and then slowly faded. She checked her watch. Seven-thirty in the evening. She’d been planning to head home soon anyway. She started packing up her materials, moving carefully. The tightness had completely dissipated, leaving just a lingering awareness of her midsection.
Five minutes later it happened again, and this time she recognized it for what it was—a contraction. Her heart rate spiked.
Too early. I’m only twenty-eight weeks. This is too early.
She grabbed her phone with shaking hands and pulled up her pregnancy app. The symptoms section loaded with agonizing slowness.
Contractions before 37 weeks could indicate preterm labor. Contact your healthcare provider immediately.
Her breath came faster. The contraction had passed, but what if another came? What if the baby was coming now, months before it should?
She needed Victor.
The phone rang three times before he picked up.
“Chloe? What’s wrong?” His voice was instantly alert, picking up on something in her silence.
“I’m having contractions.” The words tumbled out. “Two of them. Five minutes apart. I’m at the archives and I don’t know if I should drive and what if?—”
“Breathe.” His voice was calm, anchoring. “I need you to take a slow breath for me. Can you do that?”
She sucked in air, her lungs tight.
“Good. Now let it out slowly.” A pause while she obeyed. “Again. That’s it.”
Her heart rate slowed fractionally.
“Now tell me exactly what you felt,” Victor said. “Start to finish.”
“My back hurt first. Then my belly got really tight. Like someone was squeezing it. It lasted maybe thirty seconds and then stopped completely.” She pressed her free hand to her bump. “Then it happened again five minutes later.”
“Any pain?”
“Uncomfortable. But not… not terrible.”
