Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“What’s this?” I ask curiously.
I follow him out to the bedroom, and he sets it on the bed.
Inside, there are several items such as a pregnancy journal, filled with blank pages I can write in. Fluffy socks, a water bottle, herbal tea, ginger gum, lotion for stretch marks …
I pick up the What to Expect When You’re Expecting book, and Kane says, “I got one too. I was thinking we could read it together.”
He glances at me sheepishly, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
“These are pregnancy pops,” he explains, lifting a pack of lollipops that were hidden behind the journal. “They help with nausea. At least the woman at the store said they do.”
“You bought all this for me?” I choke out, overcome with emotion. “When?”
“Yesterday, but I had to put it all together, so I did it after you fell asleep last night.”
I glance at the basket, tears pricking my eyes, and then I throw my arms around Kane’s neck. “You’re not playing fair,” I cry, repeating what I said to him a few days ago.
“I’m playing to win, Princess,” he murmurs. “Especially since the prize is a life with you.” He pulls back. “Go get ready. In case you forgot, your appointment is this morning.”
“How could I forget?” I grin. “We finally get to find out if I’m pregnant or if I’ve contracted a deathly illness that causes me to lose my breakfast every morning.”
Kane chuckles. “I think it’s safe to say you’re pregnant, but we’ll let the doctor confirm.”
“I can’t believe there’s this much paperwork to fill out just to have a baby,” Kane mutters as I hand him the last form I had to fill out since he’s been holding them for me as I go.
“I mean, I am going to be giving birth to an actual human being. So, the paperwork is probably necessary.”
Kane grins, and I glance at him in confusion.
“What?”
“Nothing.” His hand goes to my belly. “I just can’t believe you’re having my baby.”
“Our baby,” I choke out, trying and failing not to let his words and touch affect me.
“Our baby.” His grin widens.
“Miss Antonov,” the nurse calls out.
Kane’s face falls, and even though I shouldn’t care, my stomach knots. I hate to see the disappointment in his features.
“It’s, um, it’s Antonov-Morgan,” I correct her.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, glancing at the file in her hand. “Antonov-Morgan. Right this way.”
She has me give a urine sample, and then she checks my weight and blood pressure. Once that’s done, she takes a bit of blood, letting us know it’s standard procedure.
“You’re going to be seeing Dr. Drescher today,” she says, “in room four.”
We step into the hall, and we’re about to make a left into the room when something—or I should say, someone—catches my attention.
I stop in my tracks, frozen in my spot, and Kane runs into the back of me. I nearly topple over, but he quickly encircles his arms around me, catching me. He murmurs something into my ear, but I can’t hear him.
Short dirty-blond hair.
A belly that hangs over the belt of his pants.
No, it can’t be him …
As if he senses me staring, he lifts his head from whatever he was reading, and his green eyes meet mine.
It’s been six years, but I would never forget that monster’s face.
He squints, trying to place me. The moment he recognizes me, his eyes go wide, his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and then he dodges into the room closest to him.
“Brielle,” Kane says, stepping around me so I’m forced to look at him. “What’s wrong? Are you dizzy? Nauseous?”
“That was him,” I whisper, flashbacks of that day nearly knocking me back.
“Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing.”
“Who?” Kane looks around. “That was who?”
“Dr. Moore?” the nurse asks. “He’s one of the OB-GYNs at the practice.”
Dr. Moore. I finally have a name to go with the face of the man who stole my baby.
“Can you give us a minute?” Kane asks curtly.
“Sure. If you want to step into room four, you’ll need to change into the gown on the table. You can leave your bra on, but make sure to remove your underwear. Dr. Drescher is running a few minutes behind, so she should be in shortly. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Once we’re inside, Kane lifts me onto the medical table and looks into my eyes. “Talk to me, Princess. Who was that man?”
“He’s …” I choke on a sob.
It doesn’t matter that it’s been years. Every time I think about what he did at Andrey’s insistence, my heart feels like it’s being put through the grinder.
“He’s the doctor who performed my abortion.” I throw my arms around Kane’s neck and cry. “He’s a doctor. He’s supposed to heal people, not hurt them.”
37
Kane
He’s a dead man.