Page 31 of Nine Months to Love
“I sent Dr. Kostas your file,” Stefan explains with exasperation. Judging from his expression, he probably thinks I’m being “dramatic” again. “I figured it would save us some time.”
I twist toward Stefan, my neck muscles straining. “I didn’t authorize that. How did you get your hands on my private medical file?”
“Your mother was very helpful.” He drops that little bomb with relish, and I can see the satisfaction in his eyes—that gleam of victory, like he’s just played a winning hand.
Talk about a giant “fuck you.” And he hasn’t so much as lifted a finger. I should really be taking lessons from him.
“You spoke to my mother?”
“She was very keen to assist. Sent everything I asked for right over.” He examines his nails like this is all terribly boring. “Actually, I believe she offered to drop them off herself. But I didn’t want to spend the next two hours showing her around the manor while she fawned all over me.”
I can feel the burn spreading across my cheeks, creeping down my neck. I’m not sure if it’s anger or pure embarrassment or some toxic combination of both. Either way, I’m contemplating throwing something else at Stefan’s head. Something heavier this time.
The bronze medical award on Dr. Kostas’s desk catches my eye—substantial, weighty, with sharp edges. It would make a satisfying crack against his skull.
Then again, Stefan’s head is so thick, he might do more damage to it than it could do to him.
“I can’t believe you spoke to my mother!”
“Why not? You spoke to mine.”
My jaw drops. The air leaves my lungs. But at this rate, I’ve abandoned all hope of appearing to be normal parents-to-be. We put the Addams family to shame because Dr. Kostas is looking as though he wants to be anywhere else. His eyes keep darting to the door, measuring the distance. Planning his escape.
“This is tit for tat, is it?” I growl, my anger veering into dangerous territory. “I thought you were more mature than that.”
“I did, too. Guess I’ve been spending a little too much time in your company.”
My hand lurches for the bronze award but Dr. Kostas grabs it just before I can. He lets out a nervous chuckle, high-pitched and strained. “I understand the urge to take a swing at your spouse very well, Olivia, but that award does mean a great deal to me.”
“He’s not my spouse. He’s just the guy who knocked me up.”
Dr. Kostas smiles politely, though sweat is starting to bead on his forehead, gathering at his hairline. “Understood. I’m still going to need you to let go of the award.”
I let go of the statuette and force my hands back into my lap, gripping my knees hard enough that my knuckles go white. The pressure grounds me, keeps me from lunging at Stefan.
Unfortunately, I make the mistake of glancing at him, and he doesn’t even have the decency to hide his smile. He looks delighted. Actually delighted, like a kid on Christmas morning.
Here I am, writhing with anger, ready to retire my pacifist beliefs if it means taking a swing at his smug, handsome face. And he’s sitting there looking as though he’s having the time of his life.Like this is the most entertainment he’s had in weeks. My rage is his personal comedy show.
“You’re a fucking asshole!”
Stefan turns to Dr. Kostas, completely unbothered, his posture relaxed. “Take no notice, doctor. This is just Olivia’s version of foreplay. How do you think she got me to knock her up in the first place?”
My eyes go wide with shock. Heat surges through me, and not the good kind. Did he just say that? To the doctor?
I take a breath, trying to center myself, and remind myself that I’m up against a superior competitor. Stefan has no limits, no boundaries, and certainly no sense of shame. Which is why he can pile on, content in the knowledge that I’m growing smaller by the second. Shrinking into my chair while he expands to fill the entire room, his presence overwhelming everything else.
“I’m extremely sorry about this, Dr. Kostas,” I stutter, trying to salvage some small semblance of respectability. Some shred of dignity. My face feels like it’s on fire. “It’s completely inappropriate.”
“Don’t apologize, honey.” Stefan actually has the audacity to put his hand on my back, his palm warm through the thin fabric of my blouse. His touch sends electricity racing up my spine. “Just blame it on the hormones.”
I jerk away from his touch like I’ve been burned. “If you want to keep those fingers, I wouldn’t try that again.”
Stefan just winks at the doctor, conspiratorial. Man-to-man. “This is what happens when you get in bed with a wildcat.”
I shove my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor with a harsh screech, and get to my feet. “How about we get this examination over with?” My voice is shrill and unrecognizable even to me, pitched too high, vibrating with fury.
Dr. Kostas clears his throat, wiping the amused smile off his face as he joins me at the examination table. He pats the padded surface twice. “Right. Let’s get this show on the road.”
