Page 75 of Hotter than Wildfire

“Sam,” Nicole groaned and everyone turned to her. She was lying on her side, curled up in pain.

“Nicole!” Sam went ashen, fell on his knees next to her. “Oh my God, honey. Did I hurt you? Fuck, I hurt you. Oh fuck oh fuck! Where do you hurt, baby?” He was frantically touching her all over, trying to find out if she had any broken bones, yet almost afraid to touch her.

He was a big man, heavier even than Harry, and he was just now realizing he’d thrown his entire weight on her. On his pregnant wife.

“Sam,” Nicole whispered. “Sam. The baby.”

They all looked down in horror at Nicole’s hand protectively curled around her belly and at the blood seeping through her dress.

Harry put the phone down and went over to where Ellen was huddled in the corner of his sofa. She had her legs drawn up with her arms around them, one pretty bare foot curled over the other, shivering, though the day was still warm.

She looked up at him and Harry winced at the pain in those beautiful green eyes. She looked like she’d been whipped.

“That was Mike.” Sam couldn’t be trusted behind the wheel. Mike had driven Nicole and a stricken Sam to Sharp Coronado Hospital and had apparently broken a couple of land speed records to do it. He could do it because he was The Man. He was ex San Diego PD. A ticket would never stick.

“And?” She could barely get the word out, her voice shook so much.

He gently unlocked one of her hands from its fierce grip around her legs, as if her arms were the only thing holding her together, and clasped it. It was icy cold. He sat down on the hassock in front of her, just looking at her, trying to warm her hand up.

Even pale and shocked, shaking and terrified, she was so beautiful it hurt his heart. She was much more shocked at the idea of harm to Nicole and the baby than she’d been at the danger to herself.

God, he hated to see her like this. And he hated it that Nicole had been harmed, even slightly. But Mike had given him good news, the best.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “Nicole’s okay and the baby’s doing just fine. Mike said even Sam was reassured. The doctors were really clear that the baby was in no danger. Sam calmed down when they had him listen to the baby’s heartbeat. The bleeding stopped right away. They didn’t even call it bleeding, they called it spotting.”

Harry had no idea what the difference was but as Mike called in the doctor’s report it was clear that there was a difference and that Nicole was on the right side of that difference.

Ellen’s breath left her body in a long pent-up stream as if she’d been holding her breath. Actually, both of them had been holding their breath for the past couple of hours. Harry loved Sam and Sam loved Nicole so Harry loved Nicole, too. For herself, because she was a good woman with a loving heart, and because she was so good for Sam.

Waiting for news, when he’d mouthed a few platitudes to Ellen about everything being all right, he hadn’t even believed it himself.

It was only now, with the pregnancy in possible peril, that he realized how much he was looking forward to having a little niece to pamper. They didn’t really talk about it, but he knew Mike felt the same way. And Sam—well, Sam was already crazy about the little girl.

Having a little girl around, watching her grow up safely in a loving family, being uncles in heart if not in blood…well, the idea felt good. Real good. Something new and fresh and clean in their lives.

“They’re both okay, mother and child,” he repeated softly. She was still staring up at him, stricken, trying to read his face. Trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. “As a matter of fact, Nicole’s agitating to come home, but I don’t know if she’ll manage it. Mike says that Sam is still pretty freaked.”

He felt it first in her hand as it shook and then wildly trembled in his. The tremors went up her arm until her whole torso shook. She bit her lips. The words came pouring out in a flurry of agitation. “It’s all my fault. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been there. If I hadn’t taken my problems with me. I can’t even think about it. Nicole could have lost her baby and it would have been my fault.”

She hadn’t cried waiting for the news, she’d simply huddled in on herself in misery, but now the tears started flowing.

Harry couldn’t stand it. He simply couldn’t stand seeing her like this. He lifted her up and sat down with her on his lap.

Ellen didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t crying. She turned her face into his neck, let out a high keening sound of misery that raised the hairs on the back of his neck and let go.

God.

It lasted forever.

She cried so hard he thought she might choke, so hard she had to gulp twice to pull in air. Harry didn’t even try to stop her. As her chest heaved and she wet his shirt, he simply held her, as tightly and completely as possible, one arm around her waist, one hand covering the back of her head, trying to touch as much of her with as much of him as possible. The comfort of his body is what she needed right now and he was more than willing to provide it.

She was curled up on his lap, arms around his neck, holding on for dear life, weeping her heart out. Crying for Nicole and the baby she almost lost, yes, but also for the year of her life that was stolen. For having a world-class talent she was terrified to show in public. For the death of her agent, which she also deep down considered her fault. For being forced to live a life always ducking, always checking her back, always fearful.

Harry would have loved to have reassured her that her troubles were over, that he was here now. But no matter how much he wanted to protect her, no matter how close he stayed by her side, a bullet could find her at any second. A silenced sniper rifle bullet from a mile out was something no one could protect against. The President of the United States was protected at all times by something like two hundred highly trained men and women and look how that turned out. Every once in a while a President got popped.

So though he could promise he’d protect her, he couldn’t promise he could keep her alive. She knew that.

She’d spent the past year on red alert, adrenaline coursing through her body, probably checking her six every five minutes, jumping at unusual noises, suspicious of strangers, allowing herself only the most shallow of slumbers because the night time is when the terrors are worst.