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Taming the Last AcostaItalian Boss, Proud Miss Prim

Page 14

by Susan Stephens


  ‘Don’t worry?’ Romy exclaimed, then felt immediately guilty. Grace was doing everything she could. ‘Can you ring them back and tell them I need someone right away? This baby won’t wait.’

  ‘I’ll do that now,’ Grace agreed, but the instant she started to dial her phone rang. ‘Kruz?’

  ‘No!’ Romy exclaimed in dismay. ‘I don’t want to speak to him—there’s no time to speak to him—’ A contraction cut her off, leaving her panting for breath. By the time it had subsided Grace was off the phone. ‘You’d better not have told him!’ Romy exclaimed. ‘Please tell me you didn’t tell him. I couldn’t bear for him to see me like this.’

  ‘Too late. He’s on his way.’

  Romy groaned, and then wailed, ‘I need to push!’

  ‘Hold on—not yet,’ Grace pleaded.

  ‘I can’t hold on!’ She added a few colourful expletives. ‘Sorry, Grace—didn’t mean to shout at you—’

  Kruz had heard some of this before Grace cut the line. He had called an ambulance too, but the streets were all blocked. It was rush hour, they’d told him—as if he didn’t know that. Even using bus lanes and sirens the ambulance driver could only do the best he could.

  ‘Well, for God’s sake, do your best!’ he yelled in desperation. And he never yelled. He had never lost his cool with anyone. Other than where Romy and his child were concerned.

  The traffic was backed up half a mile away from where he needed to be. Pulling the van onto the pavement, he climbed out and began to run. Bursting into the penthouse, he followed the sound of Grace’s voice to the guest cloakroom, where he found Romy wedged at an awkward angle between the sink and the door.

  ‘Get off me,’ she sobbed as he came to pick her up. ‘I’m going to have a baby—’

  As if he didn’t know that! ‘You’re as weak as a kitten and you need to be strong for me, Romy,’ he said firmly as he drew her limp, exhausted body into his arms. ‘Grace, can you bring me all the clean towels you’ve got, some warm water and a cover for the baby. Do we have a cradle? Something to sponge Romy down? Ice if you’ve got it. Soft cloths and some water for her to sip.’

  By this time he had shouldered his way into a bedroom, stripped the duvet away and laid Romy down across the width of the bed. He found a chair to support her legs. This was no time for niceties. He’d seen plenty of mares in labour and he knew the final stages. Romy’s waters had broken in the cloakroom and now she was well past getting to the hospital in time.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she moaned as he started stripping off her clothes.

  ‘You’re planning to have a baby with your underwear on?’

  ‘Stop it... Not you... I don’t want you undressing me.’

  ‘Well, Grace is busy collecting the stuff we’re going to need,’ he said reasonably. ‘So if not me, who else do you suggest?’

  ‘I don’t want you seeing me like this—’

  ‘Hard luck,’ he said as she whimpered, carrying on with his job. ‘Strong, Romy. I need strong, Romy. Don’t go all floppy on me. I need you in fighting mode,’ he said firmly, in a tone she couldn’t ignore. ‘This baby is ready to enter the world and it needs you to fight for it. This isn’t about you and me any longer, Romy.’

  As he was speaking he was making Romy as comfortable as he could.

  ‘Are you listening to me, Romy?’ Tenderly taking her tear-stained face between his hands, he watched with relief as her eyes cleared and the latest contraction subsided. ‘That’s better,’ he whispered. And then, because he could, he brushed a kiss across her lips. ‘We’re going to do this together, Romy. You and me together,’ he said, staring into her eyes. ‘We’re going to have a baby.’

  ‘Mostly me,’ she pointed out belligerently, and with a certain degree of sense.

  ‘Yes, mostly you,’ he confirmed. Then, seeing her eyes fill with apprehension again, he knelt on the floor at the side of the bed. ‘But remember this,’ he added, bringing her into his arms so he could will his strength into her, ‘the harder you work, the sooner you’ll be holding that baby in your arms. You’ve got to help him, Romy.’

  ‘Him?’

  ‘Or her,’ he said, feeling a stab of guilt at the fact that he hadn’t attended any of the scans or check-ups Romy had been to.

  Yes, she’d asked him not to—but since when had he ever done anything he was told? Had she tamed the rebel? If she had, her timing was appalling. He should have been with her from the start. But this was not the best time to be analysing where their stubbornness had led them.

  ‘Whether this baby is a boy or a girl,’ he said, talking to Romy in the same calm voice he used with the horses, ‘this is your first job as a mother. It’s the first time your baby has asked you for help, so you have to get on it, Romy. You have to believe in your strength. And remember I’m going to be with you every step of the way.’

  She pulled a funny face at that, and then she was lost to the next contraction. They were coming thick and fast now.

  ‘How long in between?’ he asked. ‘Have you been keeping a check on things, Grace?’ he asked Grace as she entered the room.

  ‘Not really,’ Grace admitted.

  ‘Don’t worry—you’ve brought everything I asked for. Could you put a cool cloth on Romy’s head for me?’

  ‘Of course,’ Grace said, sounding relieved to be doing something useful as she felt her way around the situation in a hurry to do as he asked. ‘I didn’t realise it would all happen so quickly.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Romy confessed ruefully, her voice muffled as she pressed her face into his chest.

  ‘This is going really well,’ he said, hoping he was right. ‘It’s not always this fast,’ he guessed, ‘but this is better for the baby.’

  At least Romy seemed reassured as she braced herself against him, which was all that mattered. The speed of this baby’s arrival had surprised everyone—not least him.

  ‘Grace, could you stay here with Romy while I scrub up?’

  ‘No, don’t leave me,’ Romy moaned, clinging to him.

  ‘You’re going to be all right,’ he said, gently detaching himself. ‘Here, Grace—I’ll pull up a chair for you.’ Having made Romy comfortable on the bed, he steered Grace to the chair. ‘Just talk to her,’ he instructed quietly. ‘Hold her hand until I get back.’

  ‘Don’t go,’ Romy begged him again.

  ‘Thirty seconds,’ he promised.

  ‘Too long,’ she managed, before losing herself in panting again.

  ‘My sentiments entirely,’ he called back wryly from the bathroom door.

  He was back in half that time. ‘I’m going to take a look now.’

  ‘You can’t look!’ Romy protested, sounding shocked.

  Bearing in mind the intimacy they had shared, he found her protest endearing. ‘I need to,’ he explained. ‘So please stop arguing with me and let’s all concentrate on getting this baby safely into the world.’

  ‘How many births have you attended?’ Romy ground out as he got on with the job.

  ‘More than you can imagine—and this one is going to be a piece of cake.’

  ‘How can you know that?’ she howled.

  ‘Just two legs, and one hell of a lot smaller than my usual deliveries? Easy,’ he promised, pulling back.

  ‘How many human births?’ she ground out.

  ‘You’ll be the first to benefit from my extensive experience,’ he admitted, ‘so you have the additional reassurance of knowing I’m fresh to the task.’

  She wailed again at this.

  ‘Just lie back and enjoy it,’ he suggested. ‘There’s nowhere else we have to be. And with the next contraction I need you to push. Grace, this is where you come in. Let Romy grip your hands.’

  ‘Right,’ Grace said, sounding ready for action.


  ‘I can see the head!’ he confirmed, unable keep the excitement from his voice. ‘Keep pushing, Romy. Push like you’ve never pushed before. Give me a slow count to ten, Grace. And, Romy? You push all the time Grace is counting. I’m going to deliver the shoulders now, so I need you to pant while I’m turning the baby slightly. That’s it,’ he said. ‘One more push and you’ve got a baby.’

  ‘We’ve got a baby,’ Romy argued, puce with effort as she went for broke.

  Romy’s baby burst into the world with the same enthusiasm with which her parents embraced life. The infant girl didn’t care if her parents were cool, or independent, or stubborn. All she asked for was life and food and love.

  The paramedics walked in just as she was born. A scene of joy greeted them. Grace was standing back, clasping her hands in awe as the baby gave the first of many lusty screams, while Kruz was kneeling at the side of the bed, holding his daughter safely wrapped in a blanket as he passed her over to Romy. Grace had the presence of mind to ask one of the paramedics to record the moment on Romy’s phone, and from then on it was all bustle and action as the medical professionals took over.

  He could hardly believe it. They had a perfect little girl. A daughter. His daughter. His and Romy’s daughter. He didn’t need to wonder if he had ever felt like this before, because he knew he never had. Nothing he had experienced came close to the first sight of his baby daughter in Romy’s arms, or the look on Romy’s face as she stared into the pink screwed-up face of their infant child. The baby had a real pair of lungs on her, and could make as much noise as her mother and father combined. She would probably be just as stubborn and argumentative, he concluded, feeling elated. All thoughts of him and Romy not being ready for parenthood had vanished. Of course they were ready. He would defend this child with his life—as he would defend Romy.

  Once the paramedics were sure that both mother and baby were in good health, they offered him a pair of scissors to cut the cord. It was another indescribable moment, and he was deeply conscious of introducing another treasured life into the world.

  ‘You’ve done well, sir,’ one of the health professionals told him. ‘You handled the birth beautifully.’

  ‘Romy did that,’ he said, unable to drag his gaze away from her face.

  Reaching for his hand, she squeezed it tightly. ‘I couldn’t have done any of this without you,’ she murmured.

  ‘The first part, maybe,’ he agreed wryly. ‘But after that I think you should get most of the praise.’

  ‘Don’t leave me!’ she exclaimed, her stare fearful and anxious on his face as they brought in a stretcher to take Romy and their baby to hospital.

  As soon as the paramedics had her settled he put the baby in her arms. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily,’ he whispered.

  And for the first time in a long time she smiled.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SHE WOKE TO a new day, a new life. A life with her daughter in it, and—

  ‘Kruz?’

  She felt her anxiety mount as she stared around. Where was he? He must have slipped out for a moment. He must have been here all night while she’d been sleeping. She’d only fallen asleep on the understanding that Kruz stayed by her side.

  Expecting to feel instantly recovered, she was alarmed to find her emotions were in a worse state than ever. She couldn’t bear to lose him now. She couldn’t bear to be parted from him for a moment. Especially now, after all he’d done for her. He’d been incredible, and she wanted to tell him so. She wanted to hold his hand and stare into his eyes and tell him with a look, with her heart, how much he meant to her. Kruz had delivered their baby. What closer bond could they have?

  Hearing their daughter making suckling sounds in her sleep, she swung cautiously out of bed. Just picking up the warm little bundle was an incredible experience. The bump was now a real person. Staring down, she scrutinised every millimetre of the baby’s adorable face. She had her father’s olive skin, and right now dark blue eyes, though they might change to a compelling sepia like his in time. The tiny scrap even had a frosting of jet-black hair, with some adorable kiss curls softening her tiny face. The baby hair felt downy soft against her lips, and the scent of new baby was delicious—fresh and clean and powdered after the sponge-down she had been given in the hospital.

  ‘And you have amazing eyelashes,’ Romy murmured, ‘exactly like your father.’

  She looked up as a nurse entered the room. ‘Have you seen Señor Acosta?’ she asked.

  ‘Mr Acosta left before dawn with the instruction that you were to have everything you wanted,’ the nurse explained, with the type of dreamy look in her eyes Romy was used to where Kruz was concerned.

  ‘He left?’ she said, trying and failing to hide her unease. ‘Did he say when he would be back?’

  ‘All I’ve been told is that Mr Acosta’s sister-in-law, Grace Acosta, will be along shortly to pick you up,’ the nurse informed her.

  Romy frowned. ‘Are you sure he said that?’

  ‘I believe your sister-in-law will be driven here.’

  ‘Ah...’ Romy breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Grace would laugh if she knew Romy’s churning emotions had envisaged Grace trying to walk home with Romy at her side, carrying a newly delivered baby, and with a guide dog in tow.

  A chauffeur-driven car!

  This was another world, one Romy had tried so hard not to become caught up in—though she could hardly blame Grace for travelling in style. She should have thought this through properly long before now. She should have realised that having Kruz’s baby would have repercussions far beyond the outline for going it alone she had sketched in her mind.

  ‘The car will soon be here to take you and the baby back to the penthouse,’ the nurse was explaining to her.

  ‘Of course,’ Romy said, acting as if she were reassured. She would have felt better if Kruz had been coming to pick them up, but that wouldn’t happen because she had drawn up the rules to exclude him, so she could prove her independence and go it alone with her baby.

  But he couldn’t just walk away.

  Could he?

  She shook herself as the nurse walked back in.

  ‘It was a wonderful birth—thanks to your partner. I bet you can’t wait to start your new life together as a family.’ The nurse stopped and looked at her, and then passed her some tissues without a word.

  Like the assistant in the department store, the nurse must have seen a lot of this, Romy guessed, scrubbing impatiently at her eyes. She was still trying to tell herself that Kruz had only gone to take a shower and grab a change of clothes when the nurse added some more information to her pot of woe.

  ‘Mr Acosta said he had to fly as he had some urgent business to complete.’

  ‘Fly?’ Romy repeated. ‘He actually said that? He said he had to fly?’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what he said,’ the nurse confirmed gently. ‘Get back into bed,’ she added firmly as Romy started hunting for her clothes. ‘You should be taking it easy. You’ve just given birth and the doctor hasn’t discharged you yet.’

  ‘I need my phone,’ Romy insisted, padding barefoot round the room, collecting up her things.

  So Kruz was just going to fly back to Argentina after delivering their baby? He was going to fly somewhere, anyway; the nurse had just said so. And she’d thought Kruz might have changed. The overload to her hormones could only be described as nuclear force meeting solar storm. She might just catch him before he took off, Romy concluded, trying to calm down when she found her phone.

  ‘Mr Acosta did say you might want to take some pictures, so he had your camera couriered over.’

  Of course he did, Romy thought, refusing to be placated.

  The nurse gave her a shrewd and slightly amused look as a frowning Romy began to stab numbers into her phone. ‘I’ll le
ave you to it,’ she mouthed.

  ‘Kruz?’ Romy was speaking in a dangerously soft voice as the call connected. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Of course it’s me. Is something wrong?’

  ‘Where are you? If you’re still on the ground get back here right away—we need to talk.’

  * * *

  ‘Romy?’

  She’d cut the line. He rang back. She’d turned her phone off.

  With a vicious curse he slammed his fist down on the wheel. Starting the engine, he thrust the gears into Reverse and swung the Jeep round, heading back to the hospital at speed, with his world splintering into little pieces at the thought that something might have happened to Romy or their child.

  ‘You were going to leave us!’ Romy exclaimed the moment he walked back into the room.

  ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again,’ he said. Ignoring her protests, he took Romy in his arms and hugged her tight.

  ‘Do what?’ she said in a muffled voice.

  ‘Don’t ever frighten me like that. I thought something had happened to you or the baby. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?’

  She stared into his eyes, disbelieving, until the force of his stare convinced her.

  ‘If they hadn’t told me at Reception that you were both well I don’t know what I would have done.’

  ‘Flown to Argentina?’ she suggested.

  ‘You can’t seriously think I’d do that now?’

  ‘The nurse said you had to fly.’ Romy’s mouth set in a stubborn line.

  ‘I did have to fly—I had an appointment.’

  ‘What were you doing? I know,’ she said, stopping herself. ‘Sorry—none of my business.’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Kruz agreed. ‘Why don’t I ring Grace and give her some warning before I take you back?’

  ‘Good idea.’ It was hard to be angry with Kruz when he looked like this, as he stared down at their child, but nothing had changed. This man was still Kruz Acosta—elusive, hard and driven. A man who did what he liked, when he liked. While she was still Romy Winner—self-proclaimed battle-axe and single mother.

 

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