The Greek Billionaire's Secret Baby (Contemporary Romance) (9 page)

But he could not let himself love her. Never again. His heart couldn’t take another betrayal. She would stay confined to her role, for no matter what, she
was
the mother of a Pappas baby, a baby that had chosen to enter the harsh real world far too soon and without being legitimized first.

And Alex remained powerless to do anything about it.

He paced the empty waiting room, his long stride taking him to the end and back in only five movements. What was taking so long? Had the complications been worse than the doctor thought?

A cold sweat broke out on Alex’s forehead as raw and unbridled dread consumed him. The vending machine against the far wall hummed, creating a neurotic buzz that seemed to grow louder until the noise filled the stark, utilitarian waiting room. A shadow flickered in the corner; the water fountain chose that moment to gurgle.

Alex brushed of his temporary irrationalism. He trusted medical science. He trusted reason, especially his own. He had to trust that the doctors and nurses were the best and wouldn’t fail. He had to have faith that Christopher’s baby would be strong and healthy. Lauren was a survivor. She’d come through this.

He vowed that he would not fail Christopher in taking care of either of them.

Alex calmed his breathing. He glanced at his Rolex, and frowned. The watch inched towards six.

“Mr. Pappas?”

A doctor in green scrubs entered the waiting room. “Congratulations. It’s a boy. Both the mother and child are doing fine although…”

The doctor paused and Alex tried to read the man’s guarded expression.

At times like these, Alex was not a patient man. “Tell it to me straight,” he said.

The doctor hesitated only a second before beginning. “Miss Andrews is doing fine. The baby, however, is premature and has respiratory distress syndrome. It’s called RDS for short. What it means is that his lungs haven’t fully developed, at least not enough to work normally on their own. We have him hooked up to a ventilator. It’s just a precaution. We believe that within a few days he’ll be able to breathe just fine on his own.”

Alex tried to understand. “He can’t breathe?”

The doctor shook his head. “Not the way a fully developed baby can, no. At this time, without the ventilator, he’d have trouble breathing. His lungs will work too hard. But there are positives. We’re encouraged by his weight. He’s six pounds and that’s a good sign. You’re in an excellent facility. He’ll be well looked after in our Neonatal ICU. There’s no need for us to send him to a separate children’s hospital. He’ll get only the best medical care. We have a world-class staff.”

Eleimosini
! Alex swore the Greek curse word under his breath as guilt plagued him. He wasn’t comforted by the fact that, although the doctor hadn’t said the words, Alex knew the situation could have been much worse. But none of that mattered.

He’d waited too long.

He should have gone and retrieved Lauren from
Central Mexico
much earlier. He should have insisted she take better care of herself after Christopher’s death. He should not have allowed her to stay in that equatorial hell for as long as he had. Only his pride had gotten in the way.

She’d even been arrested, a jarring lesson that Lauren had enemies. Lauren had insinuated Theo was at fault—but Alex could not believe that. He’d had his cousin checked out and Theo had passed. Alex sighed. He just hadn’t wanted to force Lauren. He’d learned, no one forced Lauren. He would not make the same mistakes again.

The doctor cleared his throat. “I know that you’re probably having a hard time taking this all in, Mr. Pappas. I’m happy to answer any further questions. Right now, Lauren is in recovery. We’ve woken her up enough to know she’s fine and we’re letting her sleep again. Would you like to see her?”

“Yes.”

“If you have no other questions?” The doctor waited.

Alex was certain he’d have questions later, but they could wait. A nurse appeared and Alex followed her through a short maze of corridors, pausing outside of a closed door. Lauren had been moved to a private recovery room in the maternity ward.

“She’s in here.” The nurse held the door open so that Alex could enter. As he stepped into the dimly lit room, he saw Lauren immediately. Even in the low light, he could tell she was sleeping. He stepped closer. How pale her skin looked!

But her breathing was steady and Alex assumed that was a good sign. He stood by her bedside and assessed how fragile she appeared. He’d never seen her like this—helpless and weak. Lauren had been raised in some of the harshest areas of the world. She’d grown up a fighter.

He brushed her blond hair away from her face. She didn’t stir and as he stood there, an unknown, raw emotion powered its way through him. He’d failed her, failed to keep her safe. In doing so, he’d failed not only his brother, but he’d failed himself.

“Oh,
agapi mou
. I’m sorry,” he said.

Never before had his knees weakened, but now he slumped down into the sterile armchair beside her. He should have done more. Done it sooner. Should have bullied her if necessary. Fought her every inch of the way. Someone had to take care of her. After Christopher’s death, Alex should have stepped in sooner. All he had for his failure were words. Weariness filled him. “I’m sorry,
koukla mou
. I’m so sorry.”

#

The first thing Lauren sensed when she regained consciousness was that something was missing. Her head hurt, her mouth felt dry and cottony and…

Without even opening her eyes, Lauren’s fingers flew to her stomach. She pressed and realized her stomach was flatter than it had been in months. Nothing kicked. Nothing bulged against her skin. There were no sensations. The baby was gone.

“Shh,” an unfamiliar voice said. Lauren felt a cool damp cloth touch her head. “It’s nothing to worry about. You’ve been tossing and turning for a while. That’s not good for you. Everything is fine. The baby is just fine. Shh.”

Lauren tried to sit up but nothing in her body seemed to be working. Why couldn’t she move?

“Just relax. Everything’s okay,” the kind voice said. “I’m Sandra, your nurse. You’ve had a C-section and your body is still feeling the aftereffects. But don’t worry. You came through fine and are already healing.”

But Lauren knew she wasn’t. Terror consumed her. Her baby was gone. She struggled to her elbows but her stomach muscles refused to cooperate and Lauren found herself still lying flat on her back.

“My baby,” she croaked. Her dry mouth made it hard to speak. “I need to see…I want to see my baby.”

She felt the nurse’s fingers on her wrist as the nurse took her pulse.

“Of course you do. He’s a sweet little six-pound baby boy and he’s a good eater. Now if you don’t work yourself up, I can take you to him in a few minutes. You’ve just woken up from major surgery. You’ve been resting a long time but you are still very weak. You need all your strength.”

“I want to go now,” Lauren said stubbornly. She attempted to focus her eyes but failed for a few more moments. She’d always been terrible with anesthesia. She’d had her wisdom teeth out at age nineteen, and whereas she didn’t have any swelling, she’d hung her head out of her boyfriend’s car window like a dog the entire way home. Even her arms felt leaden.  Lauren closed her eyes. “My baby,” she repeated.

“Is doing exceptionally well,” the nurse repeated. “Rest a bit more and I’ll take you to the NICU.”

She pronounced the word Nick-U.

“What’s that?” Lauren asked.

“The neonatal intensive care unit. Now don’t panic or try to sit up. You’ve had a major surgery. You’re fragile. You’ve only been on our floor about fourteen hours.”

Fourteen hours? Had she really been asleep that long? She vaguely remembered people waking her up and talking to her, but she had no idea what the conversations had been about.

Where was Alex? Had he taken her baby? Wasn’t that all the Pappas family really wanted was her child, the child that they believed was Christopher’s?

Instead of her baby being with her as she’d assumed would have happened after a normal delivery, Lauren’s baby was in the NICU. The nurse had said that the baby was fine, but Lauren knew that something must be wrong if her child was in the NICU.

Worse she was stuck here with her arms and legs feeling like they’d been glued down. At least she wasn’t drooling. Lauren forced her eyes to work and the hospital room came into focus. The nurse held a cup full of water to Lauren’s lips.

“I want to see my baby,” Lauren repeated.

The nurse smiled. “Of course you do. Drink up and I promise you will get to hold him. But you won’t be any good for your son if you collapse. I’ve got some crackers for you to eat until your breakfast arrives. That should be any minute. I chose your breakfast menu for you, but you can fill out your own lunch and dinner order. And I see that furrow in your brow. Now before you worry yourself into a tizzy, the NICU is just right down the hall.”

Lauren drank the water. “What time is it?” she finally asked.

“Eight a.m. Breakfast should be here soon,” the nurse said. “You’ve slept a long time, the whole night. That’s a good sign that you are on your way to a perfect recovery.”

It wasn’t a good sign. She’d collapsed yesterday afternoon. She’d been a long time without any contact. “My baby,” Lauren persisted.

“Right after breakfast,” the nurse promised as an orderly carried in a breakfast tray. “And don’t you worry. Your husband is with your son. Ah, and look. Here’s your doctor to check on you.”

The surgeon smiled at her. “Let’s take a look at that incision, shall we?”

It was about an hour later when the nurse finally wheeled Lauren to the NICU. The doctor had checked Lauren over and told her she was recovering well. The nurse had then insisted she eat. Although Lauren had little appetite and nothing looked tempting, she forced herself to drink her orange juice and eat her banana.

The nurse was correct—Lauren certainly didn’t want to collapse again. While she’d been eating, her son’s pediatrician had stopped by and explained RDS. Lauren understood what had happened, and why her baby wasn’t with her. It made her even more desperate to hold him.

“Your son is actually doing great,” the nurse said as she stopped the wheelchair outside of the NICU and had Lauren wash her hands. “I’m sure he’s excited to meet you.”

As they entered, the NICU was unlike anything Lauren had expected. It was a large room filled with multiple nurses’ stations—one nurse sat in the middle of four or five bassinet warming units. Everywhere one looked machines beeped and mothers in rocking chairs held and cooed at their babies.  The room hummed with an overabundance of noise.

Lauren instinctively knew that there must be more than one NICU—nowhere in her field of view could she see any small, truly tiny at-risk babies.

The nurse handed Lauren a nametag and Lauren attached it to her gown. “Your nametag tells us at a glance exactly where in the room you are and exactly what medical condition your baby has. Now you are right over here. See? There’s your husband. He was with you in your room all night, coming here only when we let him in and only after we convinced him that you were fine. Your husband is very devoted and if I do say so, he’s wonderful with your son.”

Her husband. The nurse kept saying that. Had they finished the ceremony? Lauren couldn’t remember. Everything from yesterday was a blur.

She blinked, her gaze locating Alex easily. He sat in a wooden rocking chair, a small blanket-wrapped bundle pressed up to his chest. His sole concentration was on the baby and he hadn’t seen Lauren yet. Lauren held up her hand, stopping the nurse from wheeling her forward. She’d never seen Alex like this.

As much as she’d dreamed or pictured the moment he’d hold their son, she’d never come close to the reality of what she beheld. For a brief moment she let the sight of Alex holding their son tug on her tender heartstrings. She’d always known that, despite his pure alpha male personality, he’d be a natural father. What she saw only confirmed it.

“So little man,” Alex was saying, “they tell me that you’re doing great. You probably worried your mother a great deal, but she’s tough. One of the toughest women I know. She stared a jaguar down once, I think. Ah, but maybe I don’t remember the story right. Maybe it was a big bear. You know, the kind that roars. You’ll have to ask her when you’re older. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure. I know she’s probably anxious to see you.”

“I am,” Lauren said and the nurse wheeled her forward.

Alex looked up, something new and unreadable in his dark eyes. “Look big guy, what did I tell you? Here’s your mom now.”

Lauren reached out her arms, and Alex leaned forward. His hands brushed hers and finally the soft, swaddled bundle rested in her arms.

She fingered the blanket so that she could see her son. All she could see was his little red face, the rest of him hidden underneath the small teddy bears decorating the receiving blanket. But seeing her son’s face, even with the oxygen tubes taped to it, was enough.

“He’s beautiful,” she said. “He’s so beautiful.” Her vision blurred and she began to cry.

“Shh,
glykia mou
,” Alex said. He rose out of the rocking chair and leaned over her wheelchair. The nurse discretely straightened out the baby’s tubes.