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‘Some women are prone to it in early pregnancy,’ the older woman told him calmly. ‘We all watch out for her as best we can.’
Nik pictured Betsy fainting as she crossed a road and falling beneath the wheels of a car. He saw her tumbling downstairs and breaking her neck. Even when he envisaged her falling and simply bruising herself he felt sick, and determined that it wasn’t going to happen any more. Having a baby could kill her, he reflected in horror. He couldn’t have her fainting all over the place; it was too dangerous, too risky. He needed proper medical advice and somewhere to keep her safe.
Betsy drifted back to consciousness to find that she was lying across Nik’s lap in the back of a limousine. ‘Where on earth are we going?’ she whispered, her fingers fluttering up to brush her clammy brow. ‘I did it again, didn’t I? Sometimes if I stand up too fast I pass out. Sorry if I gave you a fright. I’m just so tired—’
‘I’m taking you to see a doctor—’
‘That’s not necessary—’
‘When you’re ill I decide what’s necessary.’
‘But I’m not ill. I’m only pregnant,’ Betsy countered gently, recognising his concern and his stress level. Nik did not like the unexpected. In the same way she knew that every piece of furniture he had taken with him would be returned to pretty much the same position it had occupied eight months earlier. He had a thing about familiar order and structure, which had once thoroughly irritated her because she liked to move stuff around and try it in different places. But then everyone had their little quirks and preferences, she conceded ruefully.
‘I think you need to rest,’ Nik spelt out.
Her nose was almost buried in his shirtfront and the musky, sexy scent of his skin was so familiar it made her eyes prickle with tears. Her fingers clenched round the front edge of his jacket and she lowered her lids. She loved him but that didn’t mean she could live with him again or raise their child with him. It would mean a return to being a business widow because he would always be travelling, unavailable when she needed and wanted him. It would be lonely and thankless because he
wouldn’t appreciate how much she missed him. Their child would hardly see him, would even struggle to recognise him when he was away for weeks on end. Was a part-time father better than none at all?
Odd electronic beeps and loud voices roused her again.
‘Betsy, tell them that you know where you’re going,’ Nik instructed, turning up her face to horrendously bright lights so that she shut her eyes fast again.
‘’Course I do,’ she mumbled, willing to say anything if it meant being left in peace again.
‘My wife can’t help being unwell,’ he breathed, anger in his voice now fracturing his Greek accent as he tightened his arms round her.
Her head was pounding and the familiar weariness settled back over her like a blanketing fog because it had been so many long weeks since she had enjoyed a decent night’s sleep. She blocked the anxious thoughts battering to be heard inside her heavy head; she would think through all the complexities of her marriage and Nik with a clearer head some other day...
* * *
Betsy shifted on the comfortable mattress and a low sigh escaped her as she opened her eyes on the shadowy room. There was a low drone in the background. ‘What’s that noise?’ she mumbled sleepily.
‘Go back to sleep... It’s late,’ Nik advised from the foot of the bed. ‘I shouldn’t have come in but I wanted to check on you... Instead I’m afraid I woke you up.’
Remembering what had happened earlier, Betsy tensed, her gaze darting round what little she could see of the dim and seemingly quite small room. She could only assume she was in one of Nik’s guest rooms in London. Where else would he take her to see a doctor? And why hadn’t she argued, for goodness’ sake? Because arguing with Nik had always been pointless. When Nik was convinced that he was doing something in her best interests he was impossible to shift.
‘Why were you checking up on me?’ she framed.
Unshaven and decidedly tousled with his black hair ruffled and his tie and jacket missing, Nik loomed large as a twenty-storey building, poised beside the bed. ‘You collapsed,’ he reminded her almost accusingly. ‘That’s not normal—’
‘I had a silly little faint...more embarrassing than serious,’ Betsy fielded sleepily, realising that for some reason she felt strangely soothed by his presence.
‘You seem to be incredibly tired—’
‘I haven’t been sleeping well recently,’ Betsy admitted before she could think better of that revealing confession. ‘And fatigue is normal in the early stages of pregnancy.’
‘The doctor will tell us tomorrow what’s normal and what is cause for concern.’
‘It’s not like you to fuss over something trivial—’
‘The state of your health is not a triviality.’
He sounded so serious that a drowsy smile of amusement lit her tired face before she shut her eyes again.
Betsy wakened to light flooding through a porthole window and blinked in confusion. She clambered slowly out of bed and, even before she reached the window to get a good view of the clouds beyond it, she knew she was on board a plane. The lights that had blinded her the night before, the questions Nik had been angrily parrying, must have taken place at airport security the night before. How stupid am I? she asked herself in consternation. Why am I on a plane? Why did he put me on a plane without mentioning it? But then why did Nik do anything?
The clothes she had been wearing were in the wardrobe but she was relieved to find that a selection of other items had evidently been packed for her and she yanked out fresh underwear before rushing impatiently into the en suite to freshen up. The discovery of her toiletries and her make-up bag did nothing to mollify her. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, only, instead of her falling, Nik had thrown her down the rabbit hole. The bright blue sky beyond the porthole persuaded her to choose a light floral skirt and tee from the sparse selection of clothing and, dressed, she walked out into the main cabin with the light of battle in her eyes.
