Page 1 of Bound in Matrimony

Chapter One

Knox

I noticethe change in Seraphina's breathing before she says anything. She's sitting on the couch, one hand pressed against her lower back, her face a careful mask I'm learning to read. Seven months pregnant, and she still thinks she can hide things from me. A ripple of alarm shoots through my system, but I don't allow it to show. Instead, I cross the room in four long strides, kneeling before her like a supplicant, though we both know I've never begged for anything in my life. "Tell me," I demand, my voice softer than I intended.

"It's nothing," she says, but her fingers dig harder into the small of her back. "Just some discomfort."

Discomfort. The word ricochets through my brain like a bullet. She's carrying my child—my legacy, my blood, my future—and she's in discomfort. Unacceptable.

"How long?" My hands hover over her belly, not quite touching, waiting for permission. Even now, with this woman who belongs to me in every way that matters, I find myselfseeking consent for the smallest intimacies. She's changed me in ways I'm still discovering.

Seraphina sighs, taking my hand and placing it against the taut skin of her stomach. "A few hours. It comes and goes. The books say it's normal, Knox."

I feel the firm roundness beneath my palm, the slight flutter that might be our daughter shifting position. Mine to protect. Both of them.

"I'm calling Dr. Winters." It's not a suggestion. I'm already reaching for my phone.

"Knox," she protests, but I silence her with a look. She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue further. Progress.

Dr. Winters answers on the first ring, as she should. I pay her enough to be available 24/7.

"Mr. Vance," she says, professional as always. "What can I do for you?"

"Seraphina is experiencing discomfort." I stand, pacing the length of our living room, unable to remain still. "Lower back pain. For several hours."

I hear the rustling of papers. "She's at thirty weeks, correct? This could be normal Braxton Hicks contractions, but given her history of slight anemia, I'd prefer to examine her. Can you bring her to my office tomorrow morning?"

"No." The word comes out sharp, definitive. "Tonight. Now."

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Mr. Vance, while I understand your concern, this doesn't sound like an emergency?—"

"I'll decide what constitutes an emergency where my family is concerned." My voice drops to the register that makes board members squirm in their seats. "We'll meet you at the hospital in thirty minutes."

I end the call before she can respond, already mentally calculating what needs to happen next. Seraphina watches mewith a mixture of exasperation and amusement in her green eyes.

"You're overreacting," she says, but allows me to help her to her feet. She winces slightly as she stands, and the sight of that tiny flash of pain is enough to solidify my decision.

"Car's already on the way," I inform her, texting Harris, my head of security, to bring the car around. Then I tap another number on my phone, walking toward our bedroom. "Pack an overnight bag," I call over my shoulder to Seraphina.

"Johnson," I bark when the call connects. "I need you to contact Memorial Hospital. Immediately."

"Sir?" My assistant sounds confused. It's after nine in the evening, but he knows better than to mention the time.

"I want the entire VIP floor cleared and prepared for my wife and child."

"The entire floor?" Johnson's voice wavers slightly, but he recovers quickly. "Of course, sir. I'll make the arrangements."

"Not arrangements. Demands. I want the best obstetrician in the country flown in if Dr. Winters isn't sufficient. I want every nurse vetted by our security team. I want the most advanced monitoring equipment they have, and if they don't have it, buy it."

"Yes, sir. What about the other patients currently on that floor?"

I pause, considering. My instinct is to have them moved, immediately. But Seraphina would hate that, would look at me with that mixture of disapproval and disappointment that somehow cuts deeper than any boardroom criticism ever could.

"Move them to upgraded accommodations on other floors. Charge it to me. Make sure they're comfortable." A compromise. I'm learning those, too.

"Right away, sir. Anything else?"

I glance at the doorway where Seraphina stands, one hand cradling her belly, watching me with a complicated expression. "Yes. I want to purchase the floor."

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