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“I’m fine.” Except I’m not, and sitting in this same position is only making it worse. “Actually, do you mind if we stop a moment. I think I need to stretch.”
“Of course.” Swerving the Jeep onto the hard shoulder, he stops the car and rounds to my side quick enough that by the time he’s helping me out, Lucian’s rushing out of his car. “What’s going on?”
“I just need to stretch. That’s all.” I pace the length of the Wrangler back and forth a few times before I pause in front of them again.
It’s dark enough that the night swallows the brightness of the car lights. But not enough to hide the worry on their faces. Their body language betrays their attempt at remaining cool.
“How far along are you exactly?” Lucian stares down at my belly, as though he’s trying to gauge the answer for himself.
“Thirty-six weeks tomorrow.” His eyes flash to mine, widening with realisation. Before he has a chance to panic, I shrug. “It’s just Braxton Hicks. I still have another four weeks to go.”
It doesn’t feel like it with the way my cramps are killing me, but everything has been pretty standard until now. With the exception of my morning sickness that feels as though it’s returning with a vengeance.
“What possessed you to leave the country when you’re this close?” Lucian scrubs his hands over his face in frustration.
“I didn’t exactly have much choice. Did I?” I’m about to get back in the Jeep when he picks me up and takes me to the Lexus.
“The seats are heated. Heat is meant to help.” Of course, he’d know all this shit given he’s already had this experience twice.
He sits me in the front passenger seat, reclining the seat enough that it relieves some of the pressure sitting up makes worse.
“I told you, they’re Braxton hicks. I’m fine and I want to stay with Ryan.”
“That’s not a problem,” he says, turning to Ryan. “I’ll take the truck, you take this.”
“What?” Ryan and I blurt in unison.
“We need to get to a hotel so you can rest.”
“What’s happening? Is she okay? Are you okay? The baby?” He peers down into the car. I’ve never seen this expression on his face—Ryan’s terrified. Mr. Tough Guy is crapping his pants.
A couple of cars race past us, so fast that they’re a blur. I don’t miss the way Lucian pulls his gun out and checks it over. Standing by the roadside corner of the Jeep’s boot, he keeps his stare trained on the bleak road we were heading down.
“Fleur…”
“We’re good,” I tell him, trying to hold in my laugh at his still-alarmed expression.
“Don’t you fucking laugh,” he barks at me before he goes back to the Jeep.
I’m not quite sure what to make of his outburst at first because I’m too busy feeling sheepish. But his worry-filled look plays around my head, and it dawns on me that I’m not the first pregnant woman he’s been tasked with watching over.
“Could you give us a minute?” I ask Lucian when Ryan transfers my bag and another to the boot of this car.
“We don’t have time for this.”
“No one is more aware of the time constraints than me—” I take a deep breath, trying to relax my tensing muscles and ease the pain slicing through my back to my front. “—but I need to talk to…to my…my bodyguard.”
“If you’re in that much discomfort…”
“Listen, I get you’re being nice. It’s just grand, really, but I have been dealing with this baby from the off, and I can tell you that she’s staying right where she is. So, I’m going to take a minute to talk to Ryan…in private.”
He’s not happy as he heads to the truck, seeming to give it a thorough once-over as I get out and round to the boot.
“It’s not exactly the world’s largest boot. Is it?”
Ryan looks up at me with a shrug.
“Holy fucker!” The words burst from my mouth as a wave of sharp pain strikes me. A cold sweat beads at my nape.
