Shark’s Rise: Shark’s Edge: Book Three

by ANGEL PAYNE

  I kissed the top of his head before taking a seat at the table with him. My stomach was still full from lunch, but I wanted to keep him company while he ate. But as I watched him, something seemed…off. But not with him…

  “Oh, wait!” The recognition zapped me at once. “You need the fixings for your pozole, baby.”

  “Huh?” Bas mumbled around a mouthful of Dori’s delicious soup.

  “All the great stuff that goes on top of the broth,” I explained. “That’s what makes the whole thing. Hold on. I’ll get it out of the fridge for you.”

  I scrambled up from my chair, since I was only a couple of steps from the refrigerator—but apparently I had two left feet tonight. Maybe three. At once, my ankle got caught on one of my chair’s legs. I stumbled out but caught myself. Still, I felt like I’d tripped over a hairline crack.

  “What the hell?” I muttered. “Clumsy elephant in the house—unless I really just learned to walk lately?”

  I was just as unsure about Bas’s reaction. I was already bracing for his hysterics in all their blustering glory, but this time the man merely shrugged. “It’s the increased blood supply,” he said offhandedly. Him and his damn pregnancy books.

  “What?” I laughed, walking more carefully to the refrigerator to get the shredded cabbage, radishes, onion, and cilantro that Dori had prepared in little ramekins.

  “The reason you are tripping on your own two feet,” he went on. “Increased blood supply makes it so you have less feeling in your extremities. Almost like you are numb without the tingly pins and needles.”

  I set the tray in front of him. “It’s freaking me out that those are possibly the sexiest words I’ve ever heard you say.”

  “Hmmm?” He glanced at me, openly perplexed, while piling his bowl high with the fresh veggies and herbs. “Why?”

  Damn good question. I didn’t know if I had a clear answer. I couldn’t decide if he was sexy because of his endless quest for knowledge or because the knowledge he sought was explicitly about my changing body and our developing child. Right now, I wasn’t sure the clarity even mattered. The only thing that seemed important was the message I did decide to vocalize at that moment.

  “I love you, Sebastian Shark. I love you so damn much it hurts.”

  He dropped his spoon so suddenly, the silverware clattered against the table. He stood just as abruptly, and the look he drove into me said everything.

  He didn’t care about any other answer either.

  With two sweeping stalks, he covered the short distance around the table and right into my personal space. I still just sat there, mooning like a schoolgirl over her first crush. Desperately hoping…

  That he’d lean over, exactly as he did.

  That he’d smash his mouth on mine, exactly as he did.

  That he wouldn’t relent either—exactly as he did.

  That he’d keep pulling and sucking and kissing, until every molecule of oxygen had been stolen from the room. Until he left me dizzy and hot and swoony with desire.

  All so true…until the man sat back down and started eating his dinner again.

  Grinning about it.

  Oh, this man.

  “But you didn’t overdo it today, did you?” he finally asked.

  After clearing my throat, not trusting what it would sound like after what he just subjected me to, I answered, “No. I even had a nice long nap. This rainy weather and that pozole…” I motioned to the bowl in front of him. “Little man loved that stuff. He was Kung-Fu Fighting after I had a bowl.”

  “Good. It is delicious. Dori’s spoiling us something terrible. But I have to say, Craig’s been equally invaluable at the office. I think it’s a better fit for him. It’s funny how things fall into place, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it can be.”

  He set down his spoon again, this time with calmer intention. “What’s up?” he probed, his brows knitting. “That was a very wistful answer.”

  I kneaded my lips nervously. “Don’t miss a thing, do you?”

  “Not where you’re concerned, Red. But you know that part already.” He moved back around the table, sliding into the chair next to mine. “What’s going on?” He slipped his hand into mine. “Everything still good with Dori?”

  “Oh, God, yes. She’s even teaching herself about all the Abstract stuff. I think she may be a robot or something. How can one person be that good at so many things?”

  “That’s still not an answer to my question.”

  “I know.”

  More working my lips together. At this rate, I was going to rub off all the flesh. Not a good thing when I was hoping for more soul-searing kisses from the man tonight.

  “It’s…well, it’s Rio,” I finally confessed.

  “What about her?” he queried.

  “Ever since we told them we were expecting, there’s been this extra bit of tension with her…” I stroked the crease of his thumb and forefinger with the pad of mine. “I don’t know if I imagine it or if it’s really there.”

  “Yeah. You said you sensed that before.” He used his free hand to push some hair off of my forehead. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

  I pushed out a soft sigh. “I don’t know if now’s the right time.” The sound became a full moan when he leaned back, pulled one of my feet into his lap, and began rubbing in all the right places. “I mean, she’s barely had a chance to even see Sean lately, with all the party prep on top of maintaining day-to-day operations…” Despite the nirvana of his treatment to my swollen arches and toes, I grimaced. “I’m really feeling like I’m not pulling my weight on things—and that’s even before this little dude came along for the ride.” As I stroked my stomach, I went on. “I keep thinking that between Dori and me, we should be able to accomplish the equivalent of one person, but it’s clear Rio’s still doing mostly everything. And I feel terrible.”

  “Okay…this one is easy.” Sebastian paused his hand, ensuring he’d get my full attention for his assessment. “This is your guilty conscience talking, baby—but you have to let it go.” His stare was dark as midnight and solid as granite. “To be clear, I’m insisting on it.”

  “Hmmm.” I made a play for cute and coy, in hopes of filing down some of his newly sprouted ire. “You’re kind of hot when you get insistent.”

  “And you’re not changing the subject by way of my cock,” he volleyed. “This is for your health and our baby’s. You promised when you bid that contract that you wouldn’t overwork yourself. You gave me your word, Abbigail.”

  “And I haven’t been.” I raised both hands. “I promise, Sebastian.”

  “All right. I’m just reminding you.”

  And that was that. The decree had been issued. The matter was clear. This wasn’t a topic I’d be able to talk out with Sebastian. No matter what I said, he would beat the same drum of resistance. But I wasn’t about to leave Rio hanging in the wind. Every word she spoke this afternoon was right. We’d worked too damn hard to achieve this success.

  I was just going to have to work through this problem myself. To alleviate my own guilt and get the job done.

  It was that simple.

  The next couple of weeks went by in a blur. We’d seen the doctor again, and our little Kaisan was still checking out great. The baby was growing right on track, and my due date held steady. We scheduled our birthing class with a private birthing coach who would come to the house with the option of a small group class with two or three other couples in one of our homes as well. Sebastian compromised on the class concept for me, initially not wanting to do it at all.

  When I explained I was feeling the need to have the comradery of other expectant mothers in the same situation around me right now, he understood a little better. Thank God for his countless pregnancy books, because apparently this nesting and need for tribal support were mentioned in several of them.

  The big party night finally arrived, and I had worked more hours that week alone than I had in the past two months
combined. Or at least my body felt as though I had. I knew I was pushing myself to the limit, and despite Dori’s constant nagging, even she couldn’t deny the amount of work that needed to get done was insurmountable unless we all pitched in. At that point, we were fully committed to making the shindig a raging success, and things needed to be done in a specific order and everything with absolute attention to detail. Abstract Catering’s reputation was on the line, and we had the potential of landing so much future business from this singular event.

  Swollen feet, an aching back, and a nauseated stomach all combined to make me as miserable as I had been in Twentynine Palms.

  Dori paced in the ladies’ room while I swiped a second coat of concealer under my eyes, trying to hide the dark circles. The cover stick, along with everything else in my makeup bag, had become a good friend these last few days—filed under the heading of “How to hide exhaustion from a man who knows every mole on your body.”

  “Hey, Dori?” I queried. “Can you zip this? Or at least try to.” I turned my back to Dori so she could secure my maternity cocktail dress. Until I’d had to shop for this party, I didn’t even know they had formalwear at maternity stores. “If this thing doesn’t fit, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I swear, this kid’s popping out more and more every time I look in the mirror.”

  For the fifth time this hour alone, my assistant asked, “Are you absolutely sure you are okay? You look pale, Abbi.”

  I huffed and confronted her gaze via the mirror. Her expression hadn’t altered much; she’d been transparent about her concern since we’d begun the day, back at six a.m. In the twelve hours since, she’d insisted I put my feet up at least once an hour, but as go time for the party neared, I’d started to ignore her.

  Like right now.

  As soon as she opened her mouth and drew breath to speak, I cut her off with a determined gaze and a high-set chin, both delivered via the mirror. “Dori, we’re going to plow through this, damn it. Afterward, I promise I’ll lie down until my due date.”

  She folded her arms. Clearly, she wasn’t buying my front. I would’ve fought back with a defiant glare, if only the middle of my body didn’t pick that exact moment to erupt in sharp pain. I gasped just as violently before bending forward and grabbing the counter for balance.

  “Abbi, please!” Dori gripped me from behind like she’d become a human tong and I was a burning mini quiche. “Just sit down for longer than five minutes! Let us do the rest!”

  The girl didn’t know that this quiche was getting pissed off. “Sweetie,” I gritted out. “Let. Me. Go.”

  “I’ll take you to the kitchen,” she persisted. “You can supervise from there. Everything’s nearly done. The early arrival guests will be here in an hour. We can handle setting up the rest.”

  “No!” Though my voice remained a rasp, my glower was warrior fierce. The expression took effort. A lot of it. My elbows shook. My breaths came in fast, frantic puffs. “We’re this close. I’m not bailing out now. It’s just a little cramp. I need to drink more water, that’s all. I’m just a little dehydrated.”

  “Mr. Shark will have my head on a platter if something happens to you or that child. For God’s sake, you’re scaring me. Pleeeaaassse.” As she begged it, she moved in and squeezed my hand.

  “Compromise?” I persisted. “Tell you what. I’ll sit down right now, and while you braid my hair, I’ll drink a whole bottle of water. Then I’ll be right as rain, like my mom always used to say. You’ll see.”

  Dori was still plainly skeptical, but she helped me over to a comfortable padded chair in the adjoining lounge area of the ladies’ room. I fought the urge to just curl up in the thing and sleep like the corpse I felt, especially after Dori brought me some water and started brushing my hair. Heaven. This was damn near close to heaven. If my baby boy stopped playing darts against my abdominal wall, I’d likely change that assessment to a solid nirvana.

  I’d foregone having a professional stylist do my hair and makeup, knowing I’d feel more comfortable with Dori’s assistance. We’d agreed on a single French braid down the middle, just to keep it out of my way while we made sure the food was ready on the ornate gold serving trays, the DJ was ready to pump trendy tunes, and the bars were fully set. After guests had traversed the elaborate entrance the hostess was obsessed with most, they’d have a stunning event to enjoy all night.

  I couldn’t wait for them all to see it. Just like I couldn’t wait for it all to be over.

  I was still busy mental rallying myself when Rio burst through the door of the restroom.

  My sister-in-law looked like a badass goddess in a black leather midi dress. Her jet-black hair was slicked back on the sides and spiked on end on top, giving the illusion of a mohawk. Fierce ankle boots finished the look, and she was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Holy. Shit.” Dori and I blurted it in tandem, but barely. Rio was already pumping a fist, her jubilance like a blare of trumpets on the air.

  “Partner of mine!” She whooped. “We’re almost there. We rocked this shit like the fire starters we are, baby!”

  Compelled by her contagious excitement, I jumped to my feet and gripped her in a heartfelt hug. Dori’s whoops joined our giddy laughs, despite how she’d have to restart my braid.

  “Yes, we did!” I cried out, just before tears pooled in my eyes. I leaned back to see Rio caught in the same emotional vise. “Oh, my dear hell. Ohhh, Rio. Girl, you’re stunning tonight.”

  “Right back at you, mama.” She winked. “This gown is gorgeous!”

  “I can’t thank you enough for all of this. You really pulled out all the stops tonight. I really do owe you so much for this. For all you’ve do— Unhhh!”

  My groan was raw and sudden, sounding like I’d just hoisted myself to the top of a thousand-foot cliff. Which was exactly the height to which my pain just jumped. As a bigger flood of the stuff hit, I doubled over. I was pretty positive I was white-knuckling the chair arms by now, but I was past being horrified or guilty about it. Way past. All I could think about was the band of awful sensation through my middle.

  “Abbi? Abs? Shit. Shit!” My sister-in-law looked around the lounge frantically before fixing her stare onto my assistant. “Dori. What the hell do we do?”

  I attempted to breathe through the next brutal spike. No use. At all. “Ohhh, God,” I moaned out. “Shit. This kid’s mad now.”

  “I knew it,” Dori exclaimed. “Ohhh, no! I knew this was going to happen.”

  I chose to ignore her. No, that wasn’t right. I simply couldn’t give her any attention right now because Kaisan was demanding all of it. And I gave it. Willingly. Desperately. “Okay, little man,” I muttered. “Ssshhh. We’re going home, okay? Settle down, big boy. It’s all right.”

  But there was the damn joke. On me.

  Deep inside, I didn’t know if it would really be all right.

  I rubbed my belly, trying to ease the agony, but couldn’t really reach where the pain knifed me. My vagina was the apex of the torture, with the agony shooting straight up into where the baby was.

  “Fuck!” I yelled. “Oh fuck. It rea…lly…hurts.” Yikes. The stabs were starting to take my breath away.

  “Can you get something to put her feet up on?” Dori asked Rio.

  “What about the stepstool over there in the corner? Looks like a cleaning crew left it in here.”

  “That’s fine,” Dori said. “Anything. Make her comfortable. I’m calling 9-1-1.”

  “No!” It was my loudest shriek of the night. “Just no, no! Sebastian will lose his mind. Please, Dori. Let’s just stop and think ab—” I cut in on myself with a new wince, tightening with every shallow breath I could get in. “Uhhh, okay…about that. Fuck! Oh, fuck, fuck! Fine, go ahead and call!” The pain was getting worse. I was getting shaky. It was way too early to go into labor.

  Way. Too. Early.

  What the hell had I done?

  “Hello. Yes, I have a pregnant woman going into premature lab
or.”

  Dori’s voice was ridiculously calm as soon as the emergency operator picked up. Actually, she’d been shockingly calm since this horror started.

  “Yes, at the Greystone Mansion in Beverly Hills.” She listened for another moment. “She’s just over eighteen weeks. Yes, otherwise normal pregnancy.” Pause. “Yes, I will call her obstetrician just as soon as we hang up.” To me, she asked, “Abbigail, are you bleeding? Or did your water break?”

  “I— I don’t know.” I gasped.

  “Can you check, honey? Please.”

  “Lemme see.” Rio pushed my thighs apart like she was going to shove stuffing up a turkey. And I let her. I just sat there, dazed and scared…

  Who was I kidding? I wasn’t scared. I was terrified.

  And furious. With myself. For the selfish and cavalier way I’d treated my body the last few weeks. For how I’d even entertained the thought that any of it belonged to me anymore. For how I’d figured Kaisan would just be up for any adventure I subjected him to. He was half Sebastian, after all. The man who tackled every day as if it were his last on earth…

  Oh, God. Please don’t let this be my little boy’s last day on earth.

  Rio bent down in front of me to have a peek and then looked back up to Dori at once. I didn’t see her expression but definitely noticed how Dori lowered her voice when speaking to the operator again.

  The next volley of questions was also indiscernible to me, though my senses were thundering with so much fear that I might not have heard an elephant stampede outside the door. Rio ducked in near me and crooned in my ear, insisting everything was going to be all right. Just when I thought her leadership about the event was going to top my list of gratitude points about the woman tonight.

  “An ambulance is on the way,” she told me. “Not long now, honey. Hang on.”

  “H-H-Hang on? To wh-wh-what?” I stammered.