Kate Hewitt - Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress by Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress

Author:Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-07-03T12:43:37+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

OF COURSE, it happened on the stairs, just as Luc had said and feared it would. After a long, restless night, Abby skipped breakfast in an attempt to get to Grace’s and start her round of deliveries on time. One moment she was hurrying down the stairs, car keys in hand, parka thrown over her arm…the next, she wasn’t sure what happened, or how, only that the world seemed to blacken at the corners, like the edges of an old photograph curling upwards. And then she wasn’t aware of anything at all.

When she woke, she felt as if she were swimming upwards through water, to a surface in the distance hazy with sunshine. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times as the world came into focus once more. She was in a hospital bed, and Luc was sitting next to her.

It took another couple of blinks before she was able to see him properly. He radiated tension. He was leaning forward in the hard, plastic chair that was painted a virulent shade of orange, his forearms braced on his thighs, his face drawn into a rather ferocious expression.

‘Oh, come on,’ Abby said, and was amazed at how rusty her voice sounded. She tried to smile. ‘I can’t look that bad, surely?’

At the first syllable she uttered, Luc’s gaze jerked to hers, and for one glorious second his whole countenance—everything about him—lightened; Abby felt as if she could sing with joy. In that moment, that second, she felt anything was possible. Then he turned grim again, his expression closing up like a fan as he reached out to touch her forehead with his fingertips, checking for fever.

‘You’ve been out cold for over an hour.’

‘Really?’ The idea that she’d been involuntarily unconscious for such a length of time provoked a mild curiosity, followed by a far deeper foreboding as Luc stared at her incredulously.

‘Yes, really. I found you passed out at the bottom of the stairs—you’re lucky you didn’t break your neck!’

‘And that the door was open,’ Abby murmured.

‘Yes. And, speaking of, why was the door open?’ Luc demanded. ‘Did you keep it open all night? Anyone could have—’

‘There are no more than seventy-five residents in the village, Luc,’ Abby said, and then her hand flew to her middle as a new, terrifying thought dawned. ‘Am I—is the baby—?’

‘The doctor listened to the baby’s heartbeat as soon as I brought you in,’ Luc told her. He touched her hand briefly in reassurance. ‘Everything sounds fine, but she wants to do a scan just in case.’

Abby nodded, her hand still hovering protectively over her bump, relief pouring through her and making her feel weak. The possibility of a threat to her baby made her heart thud with anxiety and fear even though the danger had passed.

A few minutes later the doctor entered her room, a trim woman in her thirties with a neat bun of light-brown hair.

‘Had a bit of a scare,’ she remarked as she squeezed a cold blob of clear gel onto Abby’s bare stomach.

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