Page 30 of LA Reign

My embarrassment quickly turns to panic. Tests are never good, even basic ones. Tests are what revealed my wonderful grandmother had cancer—the horrible disease that took her from me. And as soon as a doctor tells you not to worry, it has the absolute opposite effect. I work to keep my voice calm. “Why?”

“Like I say, it could be nothing,” she replies, her tone gentle and aiming for ‘reassuring,’ but not reassuring me at all. “Or it could be that maybe you’re not ovulating regularly? You have a window of about six days per month where you’re fertile, so if you’re having sex around those times and haven’t fallen pregnant yet, it could be worth checking out, just to get a head start on things.”

“I didn’t realize there could be a problem.”

I don’t have sisters, and my mother and I don’t have the kind of relationship where we talk about sex and pregnancies. Or at all, really. This is all coming as a bit of a shock to me. Alejandro and I have such an amazing sex life, I’d always assumed that we’d get pregnant whenever we wanted to. Now I’m starting to feel like a fool for taking that for granted.

She smiles, and I assume it’s meant to comfort, but it does the opposite. “There may not be. Maybe you’re just not having sex around those fertile dates?”

My stomach rolls. We absolutely are. We have sex twice a day, at least, except for two nights last month when he was away on business

“Is everything okay?” Her soothing voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“What? Yes, I…I think we are having sex in that window. So,” I chew on my lip, worried now.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, but I do think it would be worth us running a few tests. My next patient cancelled so we can make a start now if you like? And we could also test your husband, too. There could be an issue with his motility, or⁠—”

“Let’s start with me, and take it from there,” I say, not sure how Alejandro would respond to the idea of fertility tests. I’m not sure how I feel about them myself. I’m an educated woman, a proud feminist, yet somehow I can’t help feeling somehow less than…It’s ridiculous, I know. A woman’s worth is not in her ability to get pregnant, nor is a man’s in the strength of his sperm

“Like I said, it could be nothing. We’d usually advise couples to try for twelve months before having tests, but I’m a fertility specialist and Mr. Montoya’s insurance covers everything I offer, so there’s no harm in getting ahead of the curve, is there? You’re here anyway.”

“No, I suppose not,” I say, forcing a smile.

I sit in her office for another half hour, answering questions and providing blood and urine samples. I never even considered that I wouldn’t be able to fall pregnant when I want to. We’re both young, healthy and happy, and I assumed there would be no problems at all in that department.

But now I’m faced with the possibility that there might be a medical reason for why I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. I kind of wish I hadn’t accompanied Lucia to her doctor’s appointment now. Perhaps ignorance is bliss.

Chapter

Eleven

ALANA

It is late by the time Alejandro finally arrives home that night. I wander down the hallway so that I can be waiting for him when he walks through the door. I’m still feeling anxious about my visit to the doctor’s office earlier. What if there is something wrong with me? Will he still want me if I can’t give him a child? I know that he loves me, but what if this makes him see me differently?

We’ve discussed our future, and he told me I’d make a great mom. He said he couldn’t wait to have little Montoyas running around. And what about his family? His father will want an heir to the Montoya legacy, and I know his mom would dote on grandchildren. What if I’m letting everybody down?

I’m in turmoil, stressed, and trying not to show it. No man wants to be greeted by a crying woman when he gets home from a busy day at work.

He smiles when he walks through the door and sees me waiting for him. “Buenos noches, princesa.” He pulls me into his arms. “Did you miss me?” He doesn’t give me time to answer before he seals his mouth over mine.

I snake my hands around his neck, melting into his embrace. “I always miss you,” I reply when he lets me up for air.

His smile quickly turns to a frown. “Is there something wrong?”

He’s so in tune with my emotions, and I should have known he’d sense the anxiety in me. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He takes hold of my hand, worry filling his dark eyes. “What is it?”

“How about we get a drink?”

His dark eyes narrow on my face. “And you’ll tell me what’s bothering you?”

I nod my agreement and together we walk down the hallway toward his study.

Alejandro pours us each a glass of Scotch, and I take a seat while he perches on the edge of his desk. I can’t help but notice how tired he looks tonight. He’s been working so hard and seems to have been having trouble sleeping lately, so I feel guilty for bothering him with my problems when he obviously has much more important things on his mind.

“So, tell me what’s distressing you?” he asks, his voice rich and soothing. He sounds concerned, and that makes me feel even worse, even more anxious and guilty.