Page 78 of Conail

"Christ Jesus! Now? What's going on? Are you in labor?"

"No. I--" Leaning against him, she took another deep breath. "Yes. I'm sorry, but I've been feeling this nagging pain in my back since early this morning."

He was going to kill her. As soon as he stopped the sick dread from enveloping him, he was going to commit murder.

Lifting his head, he signaled his mother. She came immediately.

"My wife's in labor."

"Let me call an ambulance."

"It's too late for that." She dug her fingers in his neck.

"I'm taking her. Call the doctor and the hospital." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he hurried her off the dance floor. The crowd parted for them as if realizing the urgency, and within minutes, his vehicle was brought around.

He strapped her in carefully, ignoring his shaking fingers and the need to peel out of the parking lot.

"Damn it all!" He swore viciously as he merged into traffic. "Where the hell is everyone going at this time of night?"

He then made the mistake of glancing at her, only to see her fighting the need to moan, and her hands were clasped in a tight grip. His stomach clenched in response, and he almost rear-ended an SUV.

Pressing his hand on the horn, he kept it there and took a sharp swerve. "How long?" he asked tersely. "Goddammit, Yasmine, how long have you been feeling the pains?"

Taking a deep breath, she counted off as she had been taught in the birthing class and felt the pain ease to somewhat bearable. It felt like her back was being split in two. She seriously thought about lying.

"Early this morning. Watch out!" He barely avoided sideswiping a black limousine.

When he got back in the lane, he sent her a glare that cut through her like glass. "As soon as we're out of this bloody mess, I'm going to kill you. Our son is going to be motherless."

"I love you." She broke off with a gasp. "Oh God!"

"Darling, hang on. Please." His face was white with strain, his knuckles prominent. "Just ten more minutes. Where are the damn police when we need them?" As if his voice and mind had conjured them up, they appeared just ahead and effectively parted traffic.

"Mother, bless her heart," he muttered with a prayer of thanks. It was smooth sailing after that, and within minutes, he screeched into the parking lot. Flinging the door open, he took her hand as the attendants raced forward with a wheelchair.

"I'm here, baby." He reached for her hand.

"Don't leave me."

"Never."

*****

"Breathe, baby." He had his arms wrapped around her and wondered what the bloody hell was taking so long. Thankfully, she had been given the epidural and was not suffering so much. But he knew she was exhausted. He could feel it in the trembling of her hands around his neck.

"How much longer?" He kept his voice level with great difficulty as he looked over at the team of doctors and nurses.

"The head is crowning." The goddamned doctor had the nerve to be smiling.

"Right then," he gritted.

"Darling, be patient." His brave and wonderful wife turned her face to him and kissed his cheek. "First babies usually take their time, or so I'm told."

"I'm fine," he assured her. He would have cheerfully promised her anything right now. He just wanted her to get through this.

"Alright, Yasmine," Dr. Manning urged in a cheerful voice. "Push when I tell you. Now."

Mustering up all her flagging strength, she gave one mighty push and sagged back against her husband's chest. The piercing cry of the baby had her perking up immediately.

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