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Camryn shook her head, dismissing the ludicrous thought in an instant.
There was no way she could be pregnant.
Though considering what she and Blane had got up to a few months ago, there was the remotest possibility. After all, the doctors had said it would be difficult to conceive naturally, not impossible…
No way…it couldn’t be.
But what if…?
A pure, indescribable joy rushed through her, making her want to leap from the table and run through the piazza with her arms outstretched.
She had to find a pharmacy and hope her meager Italian extended to requesting a pregnancy test.
If it was true…If the unbelievable had happened, the reunion she had planned for her husband would take on a whole new dimension.
She could hardly wait.
Chapter Twenty-One
Blane tipped out of the hammock, stretched, and glared at his cell. The ping of an incoming text had disturbed his peace. Not that it was the phone’s fault. He should’ve muted it so he could enjoy his new hammock without interruptions.
He’d always wanted one, a wide, comfy, sling he could lie back in and sway, obliterating the day to day grind. Until now, he’d never had the opportunity to ‘do nothing’, nor the space. His penthouse in Melbourne wasn’t exactly a hammock kind of place.
He picked up his cell and glanced at the screen. He froze.
Why would Cam be contacting him after all this time?
His thumb hovered over the screen, curiosity urging him to open the text, common sense telling him to delete it.
He didn’t want to read it, had no intention of reneging on the decision he’d made.
It had taken him this long to get past the insane expectation: every time the phone beeped, he’d hoped it was her, every time the doorbell rang, he’d willed it to be her. Crazy, as she was on her overseas jaunt and had made it more than clear they were finished by ignoring every one of his attempts at contact.
She’d almost killed him that last time at Rainbow Creek, telling him she loved him but had to let him go anyway. That wasn’t love, it was madness, and he’d tried everything to convince her otherwise.
But she’d left regardless and effectively wiped him from her life, and it still hurt. A whole damn lot.
The loud squawk of a hungry seagull swooping nearby broke into his thoughts and he tapped the message icon in reflex, shooting the gull an angry glare before realizing how stupid he was being.
With a sardonic chuckle he returned his attention to the screen and focussed on the brief text, his gaze instantly jumping to the name on the bottom.
Cam. x
Not Camryn.
Cam.
The informal name she didn’t let anyone use but him, most often in the throes of passion when he’d whisper her name as he slid into her or on a heavy moan as he came.
Cam. With a kiss.
He tore his gaze away from that one, small, significant x and started at the beginning.
Hi Blane,
Hope you’re well. I’ll be home in a week and must see you. It’s important. Sorry for everything. I’ll explain when I get home. Keep dreaming.
Cam x
