Wrath plugged his hands on his hips. “She threw up. At least a dozen times. If she wants to sugarcoat it, fine. But those are the facts.”

“All right, thank you for that. I really appreciate it.” The doctor smiled. “Hey, you know what would be helpful? If you went down and got her some ginger ale and saltines from the kitchen.”

Wrath positively glowered. “You’re giving me a job to get rid of me.”

“As a bonded male, I know that you’re going to want to take care of her. And I think, if she’s nauseous, having those things in her belly might make her feel better.”

“I can call Fritz, you realize.”

“Yes, I know. Or you can do it yourself and provide for her.”

Wrath stood there, frowning and gritting his teeth. “You know something, Jane, you’re spending too much time with Rhage.”

“Because I’m manipulating you?” The physician’s smile got bigger. “Maybe. But if you leave right now, you can be back waaaaay before I’m finished.”

Wrath was still muttering under his breath as he whistled for George and took the golden’s halter. “I won’t be long.”

A warning, more than anything.

But he did leave.

Doc Jane waited for the door to close before shifting those level eyes back over. “So. Let me guess, you think you’re pregnant.”

Beth felt her mouth drop open. “Well, I…”

In a gentler tone, the doctor said, “You’re not going to jinx it. Saying it out loud won’t change anything, I promise you. I just want to know where your head’s at.”

Beth put her hands on her rounded stomach. “I don’t know, I feel kind of silly. But this nausea is not like anything I’ve ever known. It’s like—not really about my stomach? It’s as if my whole body is queasy? And Layla threw up as soon as the miscarriage stopped.”

Doc Jane nodded. “She did. But before we go too far comparing the pair of you, I want to remind you that every pregnancy is different. Even with the same woman. That being said, you have just gone through your needing, and maybe you are. It’s probably too early to tell, though.”

“That’s what I was thinking. And yet … I don’t know—I’m kind of taking this like maybe it’s a sign. But, hell, maybe it means nothing at all.”

“Well, I’ll say this. The fact that you have some human in the mix? It adds on another layer of complication that is going to make diagnosis and treatment tricky. Which is why I wanted to have a candid conversation with you. I think it would be a good idea for you and me to have an idea of how and by whom you want to be treated if you are pregnant. I’d be more than happy to try to see you through things, but this is not my area of expertise. Now, Layla went to Havers—”

“I can’t go there. Wrath will want to be with me during any appointments, and nobody’s going to believe that we’re not together if he shows up with me pregnant at that clinic. I mean, the last thing we need is for them to call us out on fraud grounds.”

“I agree. So I have an idea.”

“What?”

“There’s a great ob-gyn in Caldwell—a woman. Everyone used to talk about her at the hospital. She’s got a real feel for special cases and needs and I think we should have Manny reach out to her—see if she’ll take you on as a private pay. Between me and Ehlena on the vampire side, and her on the human end? With the equipment? I’ll feel more comfortable about all this.”

Beth nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Great. I’ll get on it. In the meantime, I’ll do an assessment on you here and give you something for the nausea—”

“Honestly, I’m okay right now. It only seems to happen when I stand up.”

“All right, but let me do a blood pressure check on you, ’kay?”

“Help yourself.”

As Beth put her arm out, she had a moment of total, stunned disbelief. Was it possible that all that sex had worked?

Like, for its true biological function?

Doc Jane slid the blood pressure cuff into place and the thing made little puffing noises as it was inflated, the squeeze on her biceps making her think about all the invasive stuff that was going to happen to her if she was, in fact, knocked up. Blood tests. Ultrasounds. Examinations. As someone who had been healthy all her life, she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle it.

No going back now.

There was a long hiss as Doc Jane watched a little dial and listened through her stethoscope. “Perfect. Lemme get a pulse here.” After a moment with her fingertips pressed into Beth’s wrist, the doctor nodded. “Yup. Good.”

The physician sat back and just stared at her.

“You’re giving me a doctor look,” Beth said, suddenly frightened.

“Sorry, it’s a reflex.” Doc Jane put her things back into her bag. “Here’s the deal. I could get aggressive and climb all over you, but your pressure and pulse are great, your coloring’s good, and you’re not vomiting at the moment. I’d like to do a wait-and-see on this one—as long as you’re not bleeding down below?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Terrific. As long as you agree to holler if anything changes? I’ll stay on the sidelines.”

“Deal—”

Wrath burst through the door, with Fritz tight on his heels.

“Oh, my God,” Beth said as she got a load of the … um, load … they were both carrying. “Is that a case of ginger ale?”

“Two,” her husband announced. “And we left the backup one out in the hall.”

Doc Jane laughed as she got to her feet. “Your wife’s good to go right now. But she’s promised me she’ll call—and I have the feeling, if she doesn’t, you will.”

Wrath nodded. “You can bet your ass on that one.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but inside, she didn’t mind him being pushy at all. Her husband was going to take excellent care of her—whether or not she was carrying his child.

And that was love right there.

FIFTY-SIX

After Wrath showed Doc Jane out, he went right back to the bed. As he sat down, Beth took his hand and squeezed it.

“I’m going to be fine,” she said.

God, he hoped so. “Are you yawning?”

“Yes. I’m suddenly exhausted.”

“Let me get a ginger ale—”

“No. No, thank you … I just want to rest for a minute or two. Then I’ll tackle the idea of putting something in there.”

“Are you still sick?”

“No. I just don’t want to be.” Her thumb stroked back and forth over his palm. “We can do this, Wrath. All of it.”

As he didn’t want to let his paranoia out, he nodded. “Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.”

Except inside, he wasn’t feeling that. At all.

“You should go downstairs and work,” she mumbled, like she was already falling asleep. “Saxton stayed over. He could help you check e-mail and stuff.”

As if the glymera were going to have anything to say to him tonight?

When he’d gone down to get the grub with Fritz, he’d run into Rehvenge, who was more than happy to report on Ichan’s thwarted throning ceremony. Talk about your swagga—Rehv had been high as a kite with victory: The aristocrats had been shanked a good one, the leg they’d been standing on sliced off at the knee.

But there was no reason to be naive and assume they wouldn’t get all up in his ass again.

They were just going to find another way to come at him.

Thanks to Xcor.

Man, if he could just get his hands on that son of a bitch …

“I can’t sleep like this,” Beth said. “With you hovering.”

“I want to stay.”

“There’s nothing to be done here. We’re in hurry-up-and-wait mode until we know one way or another.”

“Who will feed you when you’re ready?”

Her tone became gentle. “I did a pretty good job of that before you came around.”

Well … crap.

In the end, he figured she needed the rest more than he needed to babysit a grown-ass female. After dropping a kiss or two on her mouth, he let George escort him out of the suite and down the stairs. Emerging on the second-floor landing, he stalled out. The last place he wanted to be was in that study—

The sound of hammering down below got his attention. What the…?

“Stairs,” he told his dog.

As George led him down to the first floor, the noises got louder, but they were still muffled—and his nose caught a whiff of concrete powder in the air. And something else …

“Hey,” Rhage said. “What’s doing?”

Wrath put out his hand and let his brother clap palms. “Nada. How’s it going in there?”

“Taking up the floor. We’ve got some heavy-duty plastic sheeting in the doorway to keep the dust down—Fritz was hoping we’d leave it open so he could clean up every morning after they leave. We kiboshed that.”

“Good call.”

On the far side of that sheeting, male voices bantered back and forth against the din of hammers cracking into stone, the chatter casual and clearly born of great familiarity. “How many workmen?”

“Seven. We want ’em in and out as fast as possible ’cuz we’re all a little twitchy—John’s here with me.”

“Hey, JM,” Wrath said, nodding in the direction of the male’s scent.

“He says hey—and wants to know how Beth is?”

“She’s good. Real good—thanks for everything, son.”

“He says, yeah, it was his pleasure.”

Good kid. Turning into a great male, Wrath thought.

“So I want to go in and meet them,” he blurted for no particular reason.

There was a long period of quiet—during which he was willing to bet Rhage and John were locking eyes and no-going each other.

“Good, glad you agree,” Wrath muttered as he cued George.

The dog signaled that they’d come up to a barrier by halting, and Wrath reached out, his palm finding a sheet that was stiff and thick. Dropping his hold on the halter, he used two hands to pull it aside so he didn’t tear it from its tethers above.

The voices stopped immediately.

Except for one that breathed, “Holy … shit.”

All at once there was a clattering, as if tools were being dropped to the floor—and then a rustling.

Like seven males of some size had just gone down on their knees.

For a moment, Wrath’s eyes teared up behind his wraparounds. “Evening,” he said, trying to be all casual. “How’s the work going?”

No answer. And he could smell the stunned disbelief—it was like sautéed onions, not entirely unpleasant.

“My lord,” came a low greeting. “It is a great honor to be in your presence.”

He opened his mouth to blow that off … except as he inhaled, he realized that was the truth. For each and every one of them. They were honestly in awe and overcome.

In a hoarse voice, he said, “Welcome to my home.”

As John ducked under the sheet and stood behind Wrath, all he could think was, About f**king time.

The seven workmen were all kneeling on one knee, their heads bowed, their eyes flipping up and down as if Wrath were the sun and they couldn’t stare at him for very long.

Then the King spoke, and the four simple words that came out of his mouth were transformative, the workmen looking up on a oner with … a kind of love.

Wrath made like he was glancing around. “So, how do you think this is going to go?”

The males glanced back and forth, and then the foreman, the guy who’d introduced the workers one by one while they were patted down, spoke.

“We’re going to take up the floor. And put down a new one.”

More looking back and forth—while Wrath just continued to swing his wraparounds left and right as if he were taking in the view.

“Are you…” The foreman cleared his throat as if he were pained. “Would you prefer another team?”

“What?”

“Have we displeased our lord in some way to bring you herein?”

“God, no. I was just curious. That’s all. I don’t know anything about construction.”

The foreman glanced at each of his males. “Well, that’s because it’s beneath you, my lord.”

Wrath laughed in a harsh burst. “The hell it is. It’s honest work. There’s no shame in that. So what are your names?”

The foreman’s eyes bugged like that was the last thing he’d expected. But then he rose from the floor and jacked up his tool belt. “I’m Elph. This is…” He whipped through the introductions quickly.

“You all have families?” Wrath asked.

“I got a daughter and a mate,” Elph said. “Although my first shellan died in childbirth.”

Wrath put his hand over his heart as if struck by something. “Oh, f**k. I’m so sorry.”

The foreman blinked at the King. “I … thank you, my lord.”

“How long ago was it that you lost her?”

“Twelve years.” The male cleared his throat. “Twelve years, three months, seventeen days.”

“How’s your daughter?”

The foreman shrugged. Then shook his head. “She’s okay—”

The one in the back, who’d said the holy shit, spoke up. “She’s paralyzed. And she’s an angel.”