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He brushed a hand through his hair, shaking plaster dust out of it. He shrugged and sort of grimaced. ‘I’m a builder by trade, Kit.’
‘No, you’re not. You’re a multi-millionaire property developer.’ She planted her feet. ‘Builder my foot,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘I’m a multi-millionaire property developer and a builder by trade.’
She frowned. ‘But you have an economics degree.’ She’d seen it on the wall of his office.
‘Mature-age entry. Part-time attendance. How do you think I funded a tertiary education?’
She stared at him and then shook her head. Had she ever really known him?
All the intimate ways she had known him rose up through her. When he raised an eyebrow she realized she was staring. She pushed the memories away and bit her lip, wished it weren’t so hard to catch her breath. ‘So …’ she waved at the hole in the wall ‘… you know about all this?’
He nodded.
She bit back a sigh. ‘Right then, you’d better tell me the worst.’
He glanced at the wall and then back at her. A frown formed in his eyes. ‘The wall stud is rotten with damp. That’s why it didn’t hold the shelves and, as you can see, when they fell they took a great chunk of plaster with them. Kit, there’s a hole in the roof. Looks as if you’ll need to find a new place to rent.’
‘I’m not renting, Alex.’ Kit wanted to sink to the floor amid all the chaos and rest for a bit. ‘I’ve bought this house. It belongs to me.’
Alex pushed his jacket back to plant his hands on his hips. ‘How the hell does one buy a house in just three weeks?’
‘Private sale.’ Her hands rested in the small of her back as she grimaced and stretched. ‘We rushed it through.’
The owners had seen her coming a mile off. ‘At least tell me you had a building inspection done.’
‘The previous owners told me it was fine. The real estate agent said he could vouch for them personally.’
‘Did you get anything in writing?’
He knew the answer before she shook her head. How could a woman so savvy and efficient in dealing with demanding clients and difficult staff make such an elementary mistake? His gaze drifted to her waist and his lips thinned.
She rested her hands on her knees and only then did he notice how unwell she looked. Pregnant women, they threw up a lot, right? He grimaced at the reminder of his own behaviour earlier. ‘Kit, are you going to be sick?’
‘Don’t think so,’ she mumbled.
She straightened. He noticed the way her hand went to the small of her back as if trying to massage away a pain there. He did a rough calculation. If he were the father, Kit would be nearly four months into her pregnancy. He couldn’t remember when Jacqueline had started getting back pain. He was pretty sure it was later than four months. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’
‘I’m pregnant,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t have some disease!’
He figured he deserved that, but … he really didn’t like her colour.
‘And it’s been a great day,’ she continued. ‘The father of my child throws up when I tell him the happy news and now I have a hole not only in my wall but, if what you are telling me is true, in my roof too! You know what, Alex? I’m feeling on top of the world right now.’
She had a point. Several, in fact. Rather valid points at that. He couldn’t help it. He glanced at her waist again. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t any change there at all.
Perhaps this could turn out to be a glorious mistake?
He glanced at the hole in the wall and knew he was grasping at straws. Kit had a hole in her wall and she was pregnant.
He was in the middle of a nightmare.
He was going to suffocate. All the plaster dust in the room felt as if it had lodged in his throat. He didn’t do kids. He didn’t do family. He wanted out of here.
He dragged in a hoarse gasp of air and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. Kit had told him he could walk away.
He wanted to run, escape, as fast as he could.
He wanted to stampede for the door. Charge through it and never come back.
He opened his eyes, glanced at the door and then glanced at Kit, who’d backed up to perch on the edge of the nearest sofa, which was still wrapped in the heavy-duty plastic it had arrived in. He frowned as he looked at her more closely. One moment she was pale, the next she was flushed. Before he had time to think better of it, he reached out and rested the back of his hand against her forehead.
She slapped it away. Glared. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
She was burning up!
He dragged a hand back through his hair. His retreat was moving further and further out of reach. He could almost feel it slipping through his fingers like water … or plaster dust.
‘You’re running a temperature.’ Hell! He couldn’t leave a sick woman to fend for herself. ‘Come on. You need a doctor to check you over. I’ll take you up to the hospital.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
By rights, her glare should’ve withered him to the spot. He sat next to her, he was careful not to touch her. ‘You’re not feeling well, Kit, and you’re running a temperature so you can be excused for making poor judgement calls.’
‘Poor judge—’
‘But do you really want to take the risk that a high temperature might harm your baby?’
‘Oh!’
Her bottom lip wobbled and one of her hands moved to cradle her abdomen. That action told him exactly how much this baby meant to her. For a moment he had to fight the nausea that punched through him again.
‘You really think I’m running a temperature?’
‘I know it.’
‘Okay,’ she finally whispered. ‘But not the hospital, the medical clinic.’
‘Fine.’ He would take her to see a doctor. He would bring her home again. He’d book into a hotel overnight. Tomorrow, he and Kit would discuss what needed discussing and then he would walk out of her life for ever.
CHAPTER FOUR
KIT’S pallor, the way she bit her bottom lip and her down-turned mouth all struck at Alex’s heart, making him forget his own panic. He wished he could make her smile. He’d been able to—once.
He stood and pretended to survey the sofas. ‘You know what? The plastic-wrapped look was a smart choice. I think it could really take off.’
She didn’t smile.
‘I hear babies make a lot of mess. You might want to keep this look for the next three or four years.’
He couldn’t believe he’d said the word babies without flinching. ‘You know, we could plastic-wrap the whole interior of this room. You could just hose it down at the end of every day. It’d save you loads of time.’ He was glad he’d made the effort when her lips shifted upwards the tiniest fraction.
He shook himself. Enough of this. ‘C’mon, let’s get you to the medical clinic.’ He reached down and helped her to her feet. He didn’t release her arm. ‘Are you feeling dizzy or faint?’ Should he carry her to the car?
His skin pulled tight with need. It rocked him to find just how much he wanted to touch her, to have her in his arms.
She shook her head. Carefully, as if the action hurt. ‘I just feel as if I have a bad case of the flu without the sore throat and sniffles.’
His chest clenched. The sooner she saw a doctor the sooner she’d get medicine—antibiotics or whatnot—to make her feel better. But when she removed her arm from his grasp all he could think for a moment was how the day had darkened. They were just about to leave when they found the door blocked by two figures.
‘Hello, lovey, we’re Frank and Doreen from next door.’ An elderly couple tripped into the room. ‘Hello, Kit dear.’
He blinked. Lovey? Him? Nobody … nobody had ever called him lovey. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck.
‘Hi, Auntie Doreen.’
Her aunt!
‘The boys just told us what happened. We thought we’d pop our heads in to see if there’s anything we can do.’ Doreen turned to Alex. ‘Frank here used to be a welder, you know.’
Frank here looked about seventy in the shade.
‘He’s handy with his hands.’
And then she winked at him.
Alex swallowed back a smart rejoinder. How on earth did a welder propose to fix a hole in a wall, not to mention another in the roof? Even if he was handy with his hands.
Nevertheless, when the older man extended his hand Alex shook it. ‘Alex Hallam.’ He glanced at Kit. She looked ready to drop. ‘I’m sorry, but Kit is running a temperature. We’re off to the medical clinic.’ He waved a hand at the mess. ‘I’ll deal with all this later.’
‘You run along, lovey, while we see what we can do.’
He didn’t want this unconventional pair messing with Kit’s house. Things were bad enough already.
‘We’ll close the door when we leave.’
Kit didn’t seem concerned or put out by Doreen’s words so he shrugged and edged her towards the door.
Doreen leant across to squeeze Kit’s hand as they passed. ‘So glad your young man has finally arrived.’
‘Oh, but he isn’t—’
‘Young,’ Alex bit out. He continued to shepherd her all the way out of the door and towards his car. They didn’t have time for explanations.
Alex accompanied Kit into the doctor’s consulting room. She didn’t put up a fight, but he had a feeling that had more to do with how unwell she was feeling rather than a sign of her trust in him.
The doctor frowned and pointed to a chair when Alex started pacing up and down. He planted himself in it and tried not to fidget. Then he scowled. The doctor looked as if he was just out of high school! Surely he was too young to know which way was up, let alone—
‘Relax, Alex,’ Kit groaned.
Relax? How could he relax when she looked like death warmed up? Why hadn’t he picked up on that earlier? He could have unknowingly made her worse. He’d walked into her house as if he’d had every right and demanded she come back to work. Without a thought for what she really wanted. All to ease his conscience. As if he knew what would make her happiest. As if he knew what was best for her.
He knew zilch.
He dragged a hand back through his hair. He did know one thing. When a woman told you she was pregnant with your child, you shouldn’t throw up. Bad reaction. Wrong reaction. Completely inappropriate.
And completely out of his control.
But … Kit was carrying his child?
He slammed a wall down on that thought.
Not his baby, Kit’s. And if Kit lost her baby because of anything he’d done—
Bile rose up to burn his throat. He choked it back. He would never forgive himself if that happened. Never.
‘Kit, you have a kidney infection. I suspect you’ve had a urinary tract infection, not all that unusual during pregnancy, which has travelled to your kidneys.’
Alex’s head snapped up at the doctor’s words. ‘How serious is that?’ he barked. It sounded bad.
Kit didn’t look at him, but her hands shook. He clenched his to fists. ‘What he said,’ she whispered.
‘We’ve caught it early.’
Her hands cradled her abdomen and Alex couldn’t take his eyes from them. Such small, fragile hands.
‘Will my baby be okay?’
‘Yes. As long as you do everything I say.’
Kit swallowed and nodded. Alex leaned forward to make sure he caught every word the doctor uttered.
‘I’m booking you in for an ultrasound on …’ he surveyed his computer ‘… on Thursday. It’ll put both you and your regular doctor’s minds at rest. I’ll also prescribe you a course of antibiotics, and no, they won’t harm your baby,’ he added before Kit could ask. ‘But, until your ultrasound, I want you to have complete bed rest.’
‘Oh, but—’
‘You can get up to go to the bathroom. You can have a quick shower or tepid bath once a day. But the rest of the time I want you in bed.’
Kit’s hands twisted in her lap. ‘I … ‘
The doctor peered at her over the top of his glasses. ‘It’s better to be safe than sorry, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s just … ‘
The doctor turned to Alex. ‘She’ll need someone to stay with her, look after her.’
Alex nodded, ignoring the way his stomach dropped. ‘I’ll do that.’ Thursday? He could stay till Thursday, or even the weekend. Kit wouldn’t be sick if she wasn’t pregnant. And she wouldn’t be pregnant if it wasn’t for him.
