As though sensing his thoughts, Shayne wrestled the blanket closer to her chin. “You expect me to guess what the Doña wants and give it to her?”
“Yes. Though as to what that might be...” Desperate for something to do, he picked up the tray and dropped it onto the chair by the bed. “I gotta tell you, your guess is about as good as mine. Better, I’m willing to bet.”
“Then you’re giving me a free hand?”
Uh-oh. “Looks like I don’t have a choice.”
“And what happens once you have Sarita?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “What happens to you?”
“Yes.” She curled up against the pillow in a protective ball, small and vulnerable beneath the protective prickles of antagonism. “If I’m not pregnant and once you have custody of Sarita, what happens to me?”