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I steal a glance at Tiero, gaging his reaction, but his expression has returned to neutral, giving nothing away. Apart from the few seconds of desire shining in his eyes, his practiced mask of indifference slipped into place as soon as Dr. Agosti entered the room.
Agosti proceeds to examine my abdomen, feeling for any abnormalities or tenderness.
“Well, your vitals seem stable, but given the fainting, we should run some tests as soon as possible.”
“Is that really necessary? It’s just been a stressful afternoon.”
“As you are under a fair amount of stress, it’s essential to monitor your health and the pregnancy closely.”
Wow, he’s not even denying that my circumstances are far from ideal. It could all be helped if Tiero left me alone. But that’s wishful thinking.
Dr. Agosti’s gaze lingers on my hands and feet. He reaches for them, checking their temperature.
“Your limbs are overly cold. How long have you been experiencing this?”
“I often have cold hands and feet. But I’ve noticed it more since we got to Canada. I figured it’s a combination of the cold weather here and being pregnant.”
Dr. Agosti’s stern expression shows a hint of concern as he continues to examine my limbs.
“Cold extremities can be an indication of poor circulation, which is not uncommon during pregnancy. But they can also indicate mineral or vitamin deficiencies. You’re also a little paler than when I saw you last. It might be the season or something else. I’ll make a note of it for further evaluation.”
Tiero looks at me, his worry evident. “Is that something to be concerned about?” he asks.
“It doesn’t necessarily indicate a severe issue, but we’ll monitor your wife’s health closely to ensure everything is progressing as it should.”
Wife?
My eyes widen at the title.
Whoa, let’s not jump the gun. I’m not going to marry Gualtiero and be forced to live in a golden cage.
Uh uh, not going to happen.
I’m opening my mouth to protest, but close it again.
I need to pick my battles carefully, and I have a feeling I need to preserve my energies for the important ones. Correcting a doctor who I’m likely never going to see again, if I have any say in this, is low on my priority list.
Packing up his things, he turns to Tiero. “We should run those tests before returning to Sicily. It’s best we fully understand your wife’s health and make sure she’s fit for air travel.”
There he goes again. I grind my teeth and press my lips together to stop myself from snapping at him.
Wife, my ass.
With a respectful nod at Tiero, Dr. Agosti leaves the cabin, leaving us alone once more.
Silence descends upon the room, leaving only the soft crackling of logs in the fireplace to fill the space. The flickering flames cast warm, dancing shadows on the walls.
Then I just can’t take it anymore. “Why did he keep referring to me as your wife? He addressed me first as Miss O’Neil. He clearly knows we’re not married,” I snap as I watch Tiero sitting down on the end of the bed.
Thankfully he leaves a respectable distance between us. I’m grateful for the small mercy. Tiero close always causes havoc on my body.
“He’s assuming that’s what’s going to happen,” Tiero brushes off.
I grunt. “You could have corrected him.”
“I didn’t want to,” he simply says. “I want to marry you… always have, and now more than ever. Our child won’t be born out of wedlock.”
“Ahh… that’s right. As you said before, you don’t want anybody to question the legitimacy of your offspring.” Bitterness has crept into my voice as our conversation from that fateful day resurfaces in my memory.
