Except it was about more than duty now. This was real. Maggie was real. The baby beneath his hands was real. It didn’t feel like a problem that had to be solved anymore or a responsibility he had to bear.
So, what was it?
Maybe he was becoming a father? Seeing Maggie like that on the floor — still and bleeding — had stirred something in him. Shifted something. The thought that the baby might be in danger had been equally as dreadful. Maybe his caveman protective instincts were kicking in?
His woman, his child. His job to protect them. But how could he do that from the other side of the world?
Yes, you are.
Nash groaned and laid his forehead on the crisp white sheet. This made no sense. They’d already figured out what they were going to do. And Maggie had seemed really happy. At peace with it. Except her grip on his hand and her mumbled words just now seemed to refute that.
His career plans and his future dreams inspired by his sister’s struggle warred with the emotions that flooded him as he sat here looking at Maggie.
What the hell was happening to him?
CHAPTER NINE
Maggie stirred early the next morning and stared down at Nash’s golden hair. It took a moment to orientate herself. She’d shuffled down the bed overnight and was lying on her side, facing Nash, in a foetal position.
Their heads were quite close, one of his hands tucked into hers, cradled in the juncture between her curled belly and tucked-up thighs. His head was angled awkwardly towards her, his right cheek against the sheets, his gorgeous face relaxed in slumber.
The usual wave of morning sickness appeared to be absent so she took a moment to just gaze at him. Her love swelled in her chest and she savoured the moment, knowing there would be no more of these. She felt strangely emotional as the impact of last night hit her anew.
Before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and dropped a light kiss against his mouth.
Nash woke up abruptly. He’d slept fitfully all night with the constant interruptions from the nurses and had only fallen into a deeper sleep in the last couple of hours as the neuro obs had gone to four-hourly. Still, he was instantly awake at the brush of her lips.
‘Hi.’ She smiled as he raised his head off the bed like he’d been hit with a Taser. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist it. Bad Maggie.’
Nash’s thundering heart rate settled as he realised everything was okay. He smiled back at her and laid his head down again. ‘She’s my favourite.’
Maggie laughed and the dull throb behind her eyes gave a vicious pulse. She winced.
‘Head still hurt?’
‘Only when I laugh,’ she murmured. ‘It’s much better. I feel much better.’
Nash let his gaze roam around her face. Her colour was back and apart from the bruised graze on her temple she looked essentially normal.
She’d certainly had more sleep than he’d had.
He lifted a hand and brushed her fringe off her forehead. ‘You scared me, Maggie May.’
Maggie’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest at his endearment. ‘I was pretty damn scared myself.’
‘Don’t do that to me again.’
Maggie looked at him. How would he know? But she remembered his face from last night and cut him some slack. Their situation sucked and she had no one but herself to blame. ‘Deal.’
The night nurse bustled in for her last set of obs and Maggie sat up. Nash missed her immediately. He’d loved waking up next to her these past couple of months and this morning hadn’t been any different.
In fact, after last night, it had been an absolute joy.
‘When does the doctor do his round?’ Maggie asked her.
‘He should be around before lunch,’ the nurse said.
Maggie frowned. ‘That long?’
‘You’ve got somewhere to be?’ Nash asked, amused by her Maggie-like annoyance.
‘I’ve got the ball tonight.’
Nash rubbed his hand along the stubble that had peppered his jaw overnight. ‘Ah. I don’t think so.’
Maggie raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry?’
Nash sighed. ‘Maggie. You have a concussion. Don’t give me any grief over this.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You need to be resting.’
‘He’s right,’ the nurse admitted as she recorded Maggie’s pupillary reaction in the chart at the end of the bed.
Maggie gave her the eyebrow this time and she wisely backed out of the room. ‘I’m fine,’ she repeated, turning her attention back to him.
Nash took her hand. ‘It’ll be too tiring.’
‘I slept like a rock last night.’
‘Yes.’ Nash nodded. ‘It’s called concussion.’
Maggie wormed herself out of his grasp. ‘I bumped my head, I didn’t have a lobotomy.’
‘Maggie, you know the doctor’s going to advise against it.’
Maggie wasn’t sure why she was so desperate to go suddenly when only yesterday she’d been thinking how hard it would be to sit near Nash - Nash in a tux - and know he was leaving.
But she’d just be sitting at home, doing it.
Keeping busy was the only way she was going to get through the months until the baby was born. After that she figured she’d be too busy to think about anything.
And then there was the dress. She’d bought it a few days ago and knew she looked spectacular in it. She’d already pictured the look on Nash’s face when he first saw her in it. The look that told her she was his, that covered her in his heavy sexual fingerprints, that said, hey, baby let’s blow this joint and go swap DNA.
It wasn’t love but it was the closest thing to love she was ever going to see on his face and, damn it, she wanted to see it again.
She wanted to dress up for him. Wanted to show Nash just what he was kissing goodbye.
‘I’m going to be in a roomful of doctors and nurses. Hell, the neurologist will probably be there. I couldn’t be in a better place.’
‘You should be tucked up in bed. Fast asleep.’ He added the last bit for his own sake. Maggie tucked up in bed never involved anything as passive as sleeping in his head.
‘What are you going to do, Nash? Lock me in my room?’
Nash knew he had no power to stop her but couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that it was his job to protect her. From herself, if need be. He gave a rueful smile. ‘Don’t be putting thoughts in my head, Maggie May.’
Maggie sucked in a breath. His pupils had dilated and she felt the familiar tug in her womb. ‘Please, Nash?’ Not that she needed his permission but she wouldn’t put it past him to try and influence the medical decision to discharge her.
Nash wavered. ‘Maybe for a short time?’ Maggie nodded eagerly. ‘And no dancing.’
She nodded again. ‘I’ll even stick to orange juice.’
‘Damn straight you will,’ he muttered. ‘And I’m staying with you tonight.’
Maggie gave him an oh-will-you-now look. ‘Do you think my concussion is up to that?’
‘In a purely professional capacity, of course.’
Maggie smiled. Not if she could help it. If she could manage the ball, she could certainly manage what would inevitably come next if they were under the same roof.