The Love Child by CATHERINE MANN

Author:CATHERINE MANN [MANN, CATHERINE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-01-17T20:25:55+00:00

Eight

Trystan knew he’d blown it.

Too bad he hadn’t figured that out before he’d started swinging his fists.

But once Royce Miller and a security guard pulled him off the guy who’d been crowding Isabeau, the red fog of protective anger dispersed from Trystan’s mind. The guard and Royce had quickly shuttled him into the site foreman’s trailer, along with Isabeau, Naomi and a very agitated yellow Lab.

Once the door clicked closed, Trystan shrugged off the hands guiding—restraining—him. “I’m okay. I’m in control.”

Royce eyed him skeptically, backing up a step and nearly running into a pull-down bed in the narrow Airstream. “If you’re sure.”

Trystan planted a hand on the built-in desk crowded with papers and calendars. His head throbbed with agitation. And worry.

“Absolutely.” Trystan turned his attention to where it should have been all along—Isabeau. “Are you alright?”

He took in her pale face, her dog leaning heavily against her leg as she drew in deep breaths. His pulse still hammered in his head with concern for her.

“I’m shaken but fine.” She stroked her dog’s ears. “We need to think through how to spin this because the photos are going to be all over the internet before we even step back out.” She glanced down at Paige. “Settle, pup-pup, settle.”

The dog whined, tugging away from Isabeau, so unlike what Trystan had seen from the highly trained service dog. “What’s going on?”

“I’m honestly not sure. Paige is giving the alert for diabetes, but I really don’t think there’s an issue for me right now.”

Trystan shifted restlessly from boot to boot. “Should you check your blood sugar, to be safe?”

“I will, I will.” Her forehead furrowed, and Trystan slid a bracing arm around her waist. “She’s usually so focused on me. The only time I’ve seen her do this was back in the early days together. I was at a doctor’s appointment, and she alerted to an older lady right before she suffered from diabetic shock—”

Naomi gasped, pressing her fingers to her lips, her other hand on her stomach.

Royce was by her side immediately, hand around her waist. “What is it?”

Naomi paled, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. “Paige was barking at me—”

Her words grew slower and slower, stretching out as if she were reaching for thoughts, for even the ability to speak, until she went completely still, pale and confused.

And ill.

* * *

Back at the compound in Naomi’s old suite, Royce opened the fridge door, searching for fruit. He pulled out raspberry and mint leaves, placing them next to the small bowl filled with oranges.

He’d always been a man of routines, particularly in moments of stress and uncertainty. And damn. The events of the last twenty-four hours had pushed his limits, trying his well-tuned strategies. Starting with the oil malfunction and ending with his fiancée passing out after the altercation at the protest.

Protectiveness mobilized his movements after Naomi had zoned out. He’d barely registered the ride to the ER. He couldn’t forget what the doctor had said. Naomi had gestational diabetes and needed bed rest to ensure her health and the health of the baby.

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