Billionaire's Island Bride (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series) (18 page)

“Better.  That was
my insurance broker.  He said they'll be going out tomorrow to assess the property
damage at that new resort I bought.  It's likely they’ll cover up to eighty
percent of the damage.”

“But why not one
hundred percent?”

“That would be the
ideal but there’s that pesky little thing called the deductible they have to
take out first."  He shrugged.  “But the good thing is, Dennis went to
look at the place and the bulk of the wind damage was to those villas I was
planning to bulldoze anyway.  They were too hollow to stand up to the hurricane.”

“A blessing in
disguise,” she murmured.

“You got that
right.”  Then he gave her a naughty look.  “To celebrate I’ll grant you one
wish, anything you want.”

“A massage,” she
said with delight.  “I want you to massage me from head to toe.  Carrying this
weight around is hard on the back and the legs.”

He put on a
disappointed look.  “Nothing else?  Just a massage?”

“Yes, Dare,” she
said, rolling her eyes, “just a massage.  We’ve had enough fun for a while,
don’t you think?”

He didn’t press
after that.  Erin had been more than generous in that department, considering
her condition.  He would give her a well-deserved break.  He gathered the cups
and teapot onto the tray.  “Be right back,” he said and headed for the kitchen.

Dare had just
deposited the tray onto the marble countertop when he heard a yell.  It was
Erin and she was shouting his name.  He jogged back to the sitting room to see
what the fuss was about.

What Dare saw made
his blood run cold.  Erin had collapsed onto the floor.  She was clutching her
stomach and moaning.

He rushed over to
kneel by her side.  “What’s wrong?’

“Cramps,” she
gasped, her brow beaded with perspiration.  She gritted her teeth and clutched
his hand with a strength that rivaled a weight lifter.  “I think…I’m going into
labor.”

“Labor?”  he all
but shouted.  “You’re nowhere near due yet.”

“Tell that to the
baby,” she half-laughed half-groaned, then she was clutching his shoulders with
both hands, shivering with the pain that shot through her body.

“We’re going to
the hospital,” he said and lifted her into his arms.

 “I’m not
dressed,” she gasped.  “My bag.  It’s not packed.”

“Forget all that,
Erin.  We have to go now.”  His heart pounded so hard it hurt.  What the hell
was going on?  Erin hadn’t even hit her seventh month yet.  How could she be
having contractions?  He placed her in the back seat where she could have more
room to stretch out then he jumped into the Jaguar and speed off to the same
hospital he’d visited just hours before.

As soon as they
rushed into the emergency room Erin was wheeled off to a private room where the
doctor on duty did an assessment.  That was when they realized that Erin had
been spotting.

“What does it
mean?”  she asked, her eyes wide as she clung to Dare’s hand.  “Am I going to
lose my baby?”

The doctor patted
her hand.  “We’ll run some tests then we’ll see what’s going on.”  He waved his
hand to a waiting orderly.  “Ultrasound department,” he said and the man came
forward at once to take Erin away in her wheelchair.

Dare was right
behind him.  “I’m coming, too,” he said.  There was no way he was going to
allow them to take Erin out of his sight.  But there was something weighing on
his mind, something he just could not shake.  As he followed the men he cleared
his throat.  “Doctor,” he said, “if she…exerted herself, could that cause her
to lose the baby?”

“These things can
happen,” the doctor said with a nod.  “But what kind of exertion are you
speaking of?”

“Exertion of
the…sexual kind.”  Dare could not believe he was feeling embarrassed to speak
to the doctor about something as normal as sex between two married people.

"That
shouldn’t be a problem as long as you’re careful,” the doctor replied.  “Now if
she had other kinds of exertion that’s a whole different matter.  Did she do
anything out of the ordinary?  Lift anything heavy, perhaps?”

Dare’s heart gave
a jolt.  How could he have forgotten?  “Yes,” he said as a feeling of guilt
washed over him.  “Me.”

“You?”  The doctor
looked at him as if he’d gone mad.

“I was knocked
unconscious during the hurricane,” Dare told him.  “She rolled me onto a
bedcover and dragged me out of a bedroom and down a hallway.”

“Down a…” The look
the doctor gave him was one of incredulity.  “She didn’t.”

“I’m sorry to say,
she did.”  Dare’s voice was quiet, his thoughts far away.  This was his fault. 
If anything happened to Erin or the baby he would never forgive himself.  “And
she didn’t complain of any pains at the time?”

“No, nothing.” 
Dare shook his head.  “We even made love after that.”

The doctor let his
breath out with a huff and Dare didn’t know if it was out of disbelief or
disgust.  He wouldn’t blame him for judging.  He was disgusted with himself. 
What kind of husband was he to put his pregnant wife through all of that?

“She’s a strong
woman, Mr. DeSouza,” the doctor said.  “I can see it in her.  And we will do
all that we can for her and the baby.”

All that we can. 
He hadn’t said they’d be fine.  He’d given no assurances.  That was not what
Dare wanted to hear.

When they got to
the ultrasound room they wheeled Erin in and Dare went to follow but the doctor
put up his hand.  “I’m sorry but it's very cramped in here.  The technologist
needs the limited space to work and I need to be there to see what’s going on. 
Could you wait over there, please?”  He pointed to a row of chairs along a
nearby wall.

Dare felt like
throttling him.  It must have shown on his face because the doctor backed away
then quickly pushed the door shut.  Dare slapped the wall with his open palm. 
He would have preferred to put his fists through the wall, he was so
frustrated.  He needed to be there for Erin.  He needed to hold her hand, give
her his strength, be her support.  Suppose she called out for him?  And he
needed to see what was going on with his baby.

He walked over to
the row of chairs but could not sit.  Instead, he paced up and down and then
stopped in front of the closed door then paced up and down some more.  He
looked at his watch.  He couldn’t believe only three minutes had passed.  He
checked the time on his cell phone, not believing, but yes it was correct. 
Damn.  How long would he have to wait?  This waiting was driving him crazy.

He stepped away
from the door and paced some more.  He was on his sixth trip to the door when
it popped open.  Erin was back but this time on a stretcher and her eyes were
full of tears.  Dare went to her and as soon as she saw him the tears began to
flow freely.

“The baby is in
distress.  He can’t survive inside me.  They have to take him.”  She began to
sob and as she stretched out her hand to him Dare felt powerless.  All he could
do was take her in his arms and hold her while she cried.  A tap on his
shoulder jerked him out of his pain.  He turned to see the doctor at his side.

“Please.  We need
to get to the operating room right away.  Emergency C-section.”

Then before he
could do more than plant a kiss on Erin’s forehead they were wheeling her away,
leaving him standing alone in the middle of the corridor.

Then followed the
worst two hours of Dare’s life.  Other patients were wheeled in to the
ultrasound room, other family members came until the chairs lining the walls
were filled and still he paced, not caring if he looked like mad man, not
giving a damn what they thought of him.  He could not rest until he knew his
family was safe.

So many thoughts
flashed through his mind.  What if the doctors had to choose between mother and
child?  What if he lost one of them?  Or both?  It didn’t bear thinking about. 
God knew, he would give all his money, every single penny to know that they
were both all right.

And if this was
what love meant, then he loved them, Godammit.  He loved Erin DeSouza and he
loved his baby and he was making no apologies for it.  He just prayed they’d
both make it through so that he could show them how much he loved them.

He was at the
point when he felt he would go mad with worry when he saw the doctor in his
green scrubs heading down the hallway toward him.  He didn’t wait for him to
get to him.  He met him halfway, his eyes searching the doctor’s face, trying
to read the news that was to come.

“They’re…okay?”  
His voice sounded strained even to his own ears.  He could hardly speak.  The
anxiety was killing him.

The doctor sighed.

Dare almost had a
heart attack.  Jesus, a doctor sighing.  That was not a good sign.

“They’re both
resting,” he said with a small smile.

Dare let his
breath out in a whoosh.  They were alive.  Both of them.  That was a start. 
“Are they okay?”  he asked again.

“Mommy is doing
well,” the doctor said, “but it was a difficult surgery.  Baby was in a lot of
distress."

Dare glared at the
doctor.  He was just inches from strangling the man.  “What the hell does that
mean?  Is my baby okay or not?”

“Mr. DeSouza,
please,” the doctor said, putting up a hand.  “There are other people-”

“I don’t give a
flying fig who else is here.  Tell me what’s going on with my baby.”

“She’s been taken
to the intensive care unit to be placed in an incubator.  She’s only two pounds
and needs to be placed in a protected environment.”

She?  Hadn’t he
heard ‘he’ somewhere?  But it didn’t matter either way.  He just wanted his
baby to be alright.

“Will she survive,
doctor?”  He kept his voice low, guilty at his previous outburst but still too
concerned to worry about an apology. 

The doctor pursed
his lips.  “Her chances are better than fifty percent but I don’t want you to
get your hopes up, just in case.”

Better than fifty
percent.  It wasn’t enough.  He wanted to hear that she was perfectly fine,
she’d be alright, she’d grow up and graduate from high school and give him all
the grief that teenage girls gave their middle aged dads.  That was what he
wanted to hear.
But the doctor was giving him no such assurances so he clung to the only
positive word he’d been given.  Better.  Better than fifty percent.  He would
hold on to ‘better’ and make it real.

“Can I see them
now?” he asked.

The doctor
nodded.  “I’ll take you to your wife.  She’s conscious but a bit groggy.  You
can see the baby afterwards.” 

Dare nodded and
followed him down the hallway.  He was taken to a private room where  Erin lay
in the bed, pale and quiet, her eyes closed.  He pulled up a chair beside her
and gently touched her arm.  Her eyes opened and he could see her trying to
focus.  “Dare,” she said, her voice weak and scratchy, “where’s my baby? Is he
alright?”

“It’s a she,
Erin,” he said.  “We have a daughter.  She's in the ICU right now and they’re
taking good care of her." 

“Is she going to
be alright?”  Erin’s eyes searched his face, looking for the same assurance
he’d just sought from the doctor.

He took her hand
in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “She’s very tiny, Erin.  Only two pounds
but if she’s anything like her mother she’ll pull through alright.”

“How?” Erin
whispered.  She looked up at him, her eyes full of distress.  “How can she make
it?”

“She will,” Dare
said, his voice firm with conviction.  In his heart he knew that his daughter
would be alright.  They both would.  Leaning over he kissed Erin on the
forehead.  “Just rest for a while.  I’m going to check on her.”  Then he gave
her a reassuring smile.  “Start thinking of girl names till I get back.”

With that Dare
left her and headed to the intensive care unit.  The nurses there were
welcoming but they refused to let him go into the nursery.

“The babies in
this section are very delicate,” they told him.  “Their immune systems aren’t
developed yet.  We have to make it as sterile an environment as possible.”

They took him to a
wide glass window and it was from there that he got his first view of his
daughter, so tiny and pink in her incubator, with a shock of dark brown hair
that made him think of her mother.  There were strings and tubes leading from
her mouth, her nose and her arm and his heart ached at the little one’s cold
and sterile introduction to the world.  He should be able to hold his daughter
close right now.  She should be lying on the comfort of her mother’s breast. 
But she was all alone and so tiny.  How would they even care for her?

But as he stared
at her, so small but yet so beautiful in her cocoon of glass, he knew they’d
find a way.  The baby had done her part by bravely making her way into the
world.  Now it was time for him and for Erin to play their part.

“You’re a fighter,
little one,” he whispered through the glass, “and we won’t let you down.”

***