Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to will away the fear. When he opened them again, she was staring at him expectantly. With a smothered groan, he bent and swung her into his arms. Sighing in relief, she pressed her face against his chest as he took her to bed.
"Is it safe? Can I make love to you?"
She nodded.
Lowering her to the bed, he hastily took off his clothing and joined her.
"It's going to take me some time to adjust. And I'm holding you to the promise that you will do as the doctors tell you."
"I will." Her hands slid up and down his chest slowly. "To the letter."
"And if anything happens to you..."
"Nothing will," she hastened to assure him.
"If it's a choice between you and those babies, I'm choosing you."
"I..."
"That's non-negotiable," he warned.
"I understand."
"Make sure you do." He removed her robe, his heart quickening at the sight of her naked body.
"Was it your plan to seduce me into accepting the news?" he asked gruffly as he passed his hands over her collarbone to cup her breast.
"Something like that," she whispered as she moved into him. "Make love to me, darling. I need to feel you inside me."
He hastened to comply, but only after he had used his teeth and tongue to wring feverish cries of passion from her.
He was still awake even after she had fallen asleep in his arms. His skin was still flushed, the moisture beading his forehead. He had strung out the lovemaking deliberately, as if to assure himself she was still here, still his.
He had done his research. He did not have to refer to the doctor's printed information. As soon as he had agreed to go the IVF way with her, he had done his research, and the risks were scary as hell. He wondered if she fully understood what she would be putting herself through for at least seven months. And he felt guilty.
He wanted children as well, but he would not have chosen this route. And she would be going through all of it by herself. He could be as supportive as possible, but the bottom line was she would be going through everything. Tipping his head down, he gazed at her striking face and felt the familiar stirring of hisheart. He was going to have a private chat with the doctor, come morning.
Dr. Forsythe opened the door and ushered the imposing-looking man into his office, and tried his best not to show how intimidated he was.
"I was expecting you."
"Good, so we can dispense with the usual trite civilities."
"Would you like some coffee?"
"No. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Samuel began grimly. He had spent the morning pretending to be on board for his wife's sake, as well as trying to hide the fact that he had barely slept last night. He had left her with an excuse that he had an early-morning meeting with the directors.
"Would you care to sit?" the doctor asked him politely, sensing the anger burning at the surface.
"I prefer to stand." Samuel pinned him with his silver gaze. "I take it you told my wife what she's up against."
Blake was wondering if it was polite to sit behind his desk. But even though his knees were a little shaky, he decided it was better not to have Samuel Copeland staring down at him from his lofty height.
"I told her everything and assured her that we would be with her every step of the way."
"Did you also guarantee that she's going to come out of this unscathed?"
Blake decided that he should sit after all.
