Page 39 of Conail

She continued to stare out the window. "If anything happens to her--" She broke off as he squeezed her arm.

"Nothing will. I'm surprised at you." He chided. "You're the one with the mountain top faith. What happened to praying for results?"

"It took a nosedive when I saw Yasmine lying on that bed." She turned to face him, her expression one of weary resignation. He was not accustomed to seeing her defeated and it frightened him.

She was strong, with an indomitable strength he always put stock in, he realized. She with her strong familial support, was determined to hold them all together.

He needed that strength now, he thought. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed and pressed her down. Pulling up a chair, he set about taking her boots off.

A surge of tenderness and love swept through Maeve as she stared at his bent head. He never had a lot to say, but when he opened his mouth it was meaningful. He was her man, her best friend and her lover and had been since they were children. She had never looked at another man.

Feeling the tension easing from her chest, she wriggled her toes and held her left foot out. "It feels like when we were on our honeymoon." She smiled as he looked at her in surprise.

"At the sweet little bed and breakfast, you lifted me over the threshold and proceeded to take off my shoes."

He smiled in return and peeled off her stockings.

"You still look as beautiful as you did that day." His touch lingered on her thighs and sent a thrill through her tired body.

"You old flatterer." She drew him to sit beside her and held his hand.

"Clive, tell me it's going to be fine. That our daughter is going to survive this."

"She will." He spoke strong and confident and hoped he was saying the right thing. "She's her mother's daughter. Strong and determined to make it." He squeezed her hand. "The gentleman looked worried."

She smiled at his old fashioned and impersonal term. "He is. Eleanor said he spent the night in her room a few weeks ago. He would not leave. He made her tea and held her while she puked."

Letting go of her hand, he drew her head down on his shoulder. "I remember doing the same for you and how terrified I was. With Clive it wasn't so awful, but with Yasmine, you were as sick as a dog. I prayed for it to end.

Each day I would dread waking up to another moment of it. You would rush into the bathroom after drinking tea."

"And you were right there behind me," She laughed softly at the memory. "You were always there for me."

"Where else would I be?" he stroked her arm slowly. "She's going to be okay."

"I am praying so." She murmured sincerely.

Chapter 11

She woke up feeling much better. Her vital signs were under control and her body was rested. She was also surprised to see him in her room and had been told in whispers by the nurses that he had spent the night sleeping in that chaise they had brought in for him.

His face was covered by a dark stubble that only added to how dangerous he looked. She had not forgotten how he had spent the night sleeping next to her and how he had taken care of her.

His powder blue sweater was rolled up at the sleeves revealing powerful forearms dusted with crisp dark brown hairs. His stern lips were unsmiling. Gray-green eyes remained inscrutable and made her want to squirm. Damn if she would give him the satisfaction of knowing that he intimidated her.

He waited until the medical team had left the room before he said anything. Rising gracefully, he felt the grittiness of his eyes, reminding him that he had slept in snatches because he was waking up every few minutes to see if she was alright.

"I feel well enough to go home," she announced as soon as he stopped at the side of the bed.

His eyes wandered over her face. "Isn't that for the doctors to decide?" He thought she looked much better and could not account for the surge of relief flowing through him.

"I'm the patient." She plucked at the sheets and wished he would stop looking at her like that.

"Operative word being patient. Your blood pressure was through the roof as I understood. And you were throwing up nonstop." He pulled up a chair, much to her consternation.

"You don't have to stay." She was pointedly polite causing his lips to curve slightly.

"Trying to get rid of me?"

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