...and not with Diana. His wife sighed happily, leaning sideways into him to pillow her head on his shoulder, though she dutifully kept her abdomen still as Dr. Singer hovered the device over her stomach and regarded the screen.

  "...er, I'm having trouble detecting a heartbeat," Dr. Singer said after a careful moment. Tony could swear he didn't imagine it when Diana's hand went immediately ice-cold in his. "But we’ll take a few minutes more before jumping to any conclusions. Sometimes I miss the mark." The doctor smiled, and Tony felt Diana relax a little, though her expression remained tight. All the blood had drained from her face. It seemed to him almost as if she was willing it all to their baby in that moment to propel a stronger, more detectable heartbeat.

  Tony's phone vibrated in his pocket. There was no escaping the outside world trying to encroach on this fragile moment. He rose, releasing Diana's hand but not going far. He moved into a corner of the room and answered the call.

  "Louis, you're going to have to conduct the meeting for me," Tony told his second-in-command. Louis babbled back at him, but Tony simply pinched his nose and shook his head repeatedly, though there was no way for Louis to see him through their connection. "No, no. Look, I can't talk now, but I'm not coming in. We've gone over the presentation for almost two weeks. I know you can do it."

  He kept his words hushed and encouraging, but he was eager to get off the phone. Who knew how this quiet argument might interfere further with the doctor's attempts to find his child's heartbeat? "I've got to go," he finally told Louis when it was apparent that no amount of encouragement was going to get the other man off the phone. "You've got this, Louis. Thanks. I'll make it up to you."

  "There it is!" Dr. Singer said brightly when, moments later, the faint pulse of the fetal heartbeat was finally detected. Tony was back in his chair, Diana's hand firmly pressed between both of his. She clutched him in return, breathing erratically, laughing with relief. Her eyes were wet, although she hadn't been crying as they’d held their breath for the verdict.

  "Quiet, but it's there," the doctor concluded. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington."

  I'm going to be a father. We're going to be parents. The thought struck him as if it had never occurred to him before. Something about seeing the baby for himself... about hearing it...

  "I know," Diana said quietly as she squeezed his hand again. Evidently, his expression said it all. "It's an amazing feeling, isn't it? I didn't expect to be so..."

  "Happy?" Tony turned to her, and she cupped his cheek in her hand. She nodded, obviously beyond speech, but he didn't require anything at all of her in that moment. He was only glad to be here, in this room, with her.

  "You should have been there in the room, Tony!" his mother's shrill voice berated him. An hour later, Tony stood alone outside the hospital, still waiting on Diana to get the final set of printouts from their appointment. He had ducked away to check his phone; the eight voicemails and twice as many unanswered texts had told him all he needed to know.

  "Louis flamed out completely! Right in front of the board of trustees! The CEO for the new factory is threatening to walk on this deal!"

  "I'll fix it," Tony replied tersely. "Mother, please... I'm trying to put my family first here."

  "I'm your family, too. And this company is part of your blood!" his mother exclaimed. "Are you telling me your wife isn't capable of taking herself to a check-up? Diana, who has been oh-so-adamant about maintaining her independence?"

  He didn't know what to say to that. He had already lost this fight—he had lost it as soon as he’d failed to show up to the meeting.

  "I'll fix this," he promised her. "I won't allow myself to be distracted again. I'll... talk to Diana."

  "See that you do," Constance Harrington said severely. "On all accounts."

  She hung up before Tony could get another word in. He exhaled hard and pinched his nose.

  "Tony? Everything all right?"

  He turned to find Diana walking up, printed copies of the sonogram in hand; she held them as if they were as precious as the child she already carried within her.

  "Everything's dandy," he answered her, but his heart wasn't in it. He tried on a wobbly smile, and she seemed too distracted by the day's good news to notice how weak the grimace was. "Shall we head home?"

  12

  "I'm glad you could make it," Tony said in greeting as she walked through his office door at Harrington Enterprises. "Sorry for the short notice."

  Diana raised an eyebrow. "What, are you serious?"

  Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best way to acknowledge her husband, but Tony hadn't especially chosen the best way to welcome his wife, either. She had driven out to meet him after he’d called requesting they talk; now he was speaking as if this were a business meeting.

  Oh God, was it a business meeting? Diana had expected another surprise lunch date; maybe even a stroll on the beach. Instead, she suddenly had a gnawing suspicion that this was about the least romantic aspect of all those concerning her relationship with Tony.

  Their marriage.

  "Here. Have a seat." Tony came around his desk to pull the chair out for her, at least. She didn't think he normally did that for his business associates... but maybe she was reaching way too hard to find intimacy where none actually existed.

  Diana nodded gratefully, but she kept her instincts on high alert as she sat down. "Tony, this is weird," she told him bluntly. "If you wanted to talk like this, we could have done it back at the castle. Where's the fire?" Besides the one you lit in me, she thought rebelliously. Her hormones had been raging out of control this week. She had spent the entire day devising ways to get her husband alone and divested of his suit this evening—she had spent the entire car ride to his office imagining how she might accomplish this much, much earlier. About that walk on the beach...

  But Tony sat back down across from her, putting the desk between them, and crossed his arms. She was all too aware of the bulging of his biceps against the fabric of his suit when he did that while simultaneously hating the forbidding posture he’d chosen, as if erecting a wall between them. "I called you in here because I wanted to have a business meeting," he explained, confirming her unhappy thoughts. "Concerning our marriage. And since the boundaries have... blurred... beyond what we originally set, I thought meeting in my office outside of the castle would prevent anymore scope creep."

  Scope creep? What the hell was he talking about? Her expression must have said everything her silence didn't—Tony sighed and loosened somewhat.

  "All right. Listen." He leaned on his desk. "No more of this pretense of us doing 'couple stuff.' I know you resent it as much as I do."

  "What are you talking about?" Her mouth had gone suddenly dry, and she felt a shock of pain in her chest at his words, right in the chamber that housed her heart.

  "I didn't word that how I wanted it to sound." Tony sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. It had already been ruffled loose from its gel when she walked in; he must have been worrying it the same way all afternoon. "But you know what I mean. Diana, you of all people know what I mean."

  "I don't," she protested. "I honestly have no idea what you're saying, Tony. So why don't you explain it to me?"

  "I'm saying you don't have to be the good little society wife anymore," he cut in abruptly. "I know you hate it, and I'm sorry I forced you to take on that role. It isn't you."

  Diana sat back in her chair, and now it was her turn to cross her arms. Why did she have a feeling their conversation wouldn't end there?

  "I'm releasing you from your duties as my loving wife." He said the words mechanically, and he wouldn't look her in the eye as he proceeded to draw new lines in their agreement. "And I'm releasing myself from my duties as your 'loving husband.' That trip to the doctor... going with you to your appointment wound up interfering with my obligations here." He gestured to the interior of his office, to the whole of Harrington Enterprises. "We both agreed we wouldn't let that happen, and we've let that agreement slip. Maybe it was too ambiguous before. So my intention today is to get us both back on track."

  Diana wanted to leap to her feet. She wanted to shout at him. She wanted to snatch up every paper within reach and fling them, like a child, until Tony broke free of whatever spell this was and saw reason.

  But she didn't. She simply sat dutifully in her chair, staving off the volcanic eruption that threatened to incinerate her on the spot.

  At last, she began slowly, "That's easy for you to say." The words came out ominously. Tony's blue eyes brightened in alarm, and Diana was glad to see he wasn't so swept up in his monologue that he couldn't sense her dangerous mood. If hormones were sharpening her anger, then damn it, she was going to embrace their power. "It's easy for you to drop us and run back to your first lo—your work. But what am I supposed to do? I can't go anywhere with the baby on the way. The doctor advised me against traveling."

  "That's only temporary," Tony responded, although his tone sounded uncertain. The fact that she hadn't instantly agreed with his intended arrangement for them had obviously thrown him for a loop. "You'll be gone soon enough. And the baby will be in good hands while you're away."

  "Will the baby be in your hands?" Diana demanded. "Or will you cast our son or daughter aside, too, to make room for business?"

  "Jesus, Diana, is that what you think I'm doing?" Tony's hand clenched on his desk. It looked as if he wanted to raise it and bring it back down in a sudden surge of emotion, but he controlled himself—far better than she was managing, but Diana didn't care. It was all she could do to keep her tears at bay.

  "Of course it's what you're doing," she stated. "It's easy for you—easy enough to abide by the rules because you don't—because I—"

  She couldn't go on. Revealing her true feelings would be the same as self-inflicting the fatal blow to her own heart. At least keeping it all barely contained within was less painful than confessing feelings that would be trampled on. At least this way, her love for Tony could remain exactly that: hers.

  "Diana, wait!" Tony pleaded with her as she rose and stumbled to the door. He stood as if he intended to go to her but suddenly found his desk an impediment where it had once been a protective barrier. Diana, hearing him bang a knee against it, felt no sympathy for him. "What are you trying to say?"

  "I'm saying I agree." The tears were in her voice now, and she had to escape before they escalated any further. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

  "I want to hear what... a minute ago, it sounded like you were about to say—"

  Diana cut him off by shaking her head. Don't. Her brain was screaming the word. Surely the baby heard her anguish. Surely a part of Tony did, too, because his mouth clamped shut over any further questions. She drew a deep breath. "I'll see you at home," she concluded. "Thanks for clearing things up for me. For us."

  She touched her stomach without thinking, bringing a third, defenseless party into this argument that wasn't an argument. She shouldn't feel so tangled up inside. After all, Tony had just granted her some much-needed clarity about their situation. About what their marriage should mean to her.

  "Goodbye, Tony."

  Without turning to look back, she closed the door behind her.

  13

  Diana stared up at the vast facade of the hospital and sighed, probably her deepest sigh to date.

  It was a chilly English morning, and she had bundled herself (and the baby) tight against the nipping cold. She wished she could somehow warm herself on the inside, but that felt like almost too dramatic a thought. She could do this alone; according to the contract, she should be able to do this on her own. Besides, the nurse would also be at the appointment... and Dr. Singer...

  "Mrs. Harrington, would you like me to accompany you to the waiting room?"

  Diana turned in surprise, to see that the driver was still waiting on the curb. He hadn't pulled the car away to find a parking spot. She hadn't even noticed him there because she had been standing so lost in thought. She smiled in embarrassment and shook her head. "No. I'll be perfectly all right on my own."

  The driver nodded once, almost deeply enough to qualify as a bow, and eased himself back inside the car. Diana turned away and sighed again. She didn't need anyone to see her lack of strength. She allowed herself to entertain one more weakness as she strolled through the automatic doors, thumbing her texts open to see if Tony had responded to her update yet. Admittedly, her update had simply been to let him know she had arrived at the clinic. She knew she was setting herself up for heartbreak, but she couldn't help it. If Tony couldn't tear himself away from work to be here, in the flesh, then she at least wanted to feel connected to him some other way.

  Nothing. No response, not even a notification to let her know her message had been read.

  Of course not. Tony was likely in a meeting. He would be in meetings all day, if not all week, trying to salvage the multimillion-dollar deal that was about to fall through due to his being absent the last time.

  Diana checked herself in, poured herself a cup of water from the cooler, and sat herself down wearily. No sooner was she seated than the nurse was calling her name. Diana? Diana Harrington?

  Would she ever get used to being a Harrington? Her son or daughter would be born into the name, but would Diana ever make the adjustment that everyone, including herself, wished so desperately she could?

  “Your blood pressure is remarkably high today.”

  “What?” Diana was snapped out of her thoughts by the concerned voice of Dr. Singer. She had been in a fog ever since she’d entered the examination room; honestly, she had felt mentally lost all morning, even before this moment, but had racked it up to pregnancy brain. “My blood pressure?”

  “Yes. It’s a little too high, I’m afraid.”

  She watched as Dr. Singer pulled away with her instruments and realized from the doctor’s mannerisms that it was more than just a little too high. The worry that washed over her, the sudden anguish, threatened to become a cold wave of terror—something she was certain her already-high blood pressure wouldn’t thank her for. “I’m... sorry?” She couldn’t think of what else to say, but it didn’t appear to matter. Dr. Singer conversed in a low voice with the attending nurse, who nodded and thinned her mouth in understanding. Comprehension that Diana couldn’t likewise pretend to have, since the doctor had not seen fit to mention aloud the actual numbers involved. “Er, can you tell me what that means exactly for my baby?”

  Dr. Singer turned back to her and nodded. “Of course.” The doctor adjusted her glasses. “That is, it’s nothing for us to be overly concerned about at present... not if we can bring it back down.”

  Oh boy. Good thing the doctor wasn’t trying to take her pressure again. Diana felt certain the frantic pounding of her pulse would have burst the monitor this time around. As a nurse, she felt as if she should know the answers to her questions, but the fog in her brain made thinking difficult. At last, she asked, “How do I do that?” Because, to be honest with you, Dr. Singer, your cryptic words are making things worse, not better.

  “How have your stress levels been recently?” The nurse ducked out of the room as Dr. Singer fixed Diana with a steady gaze.

  “Not the best,” Diana admitted.

  “That’s a good start. And it’s not your fault. I’m sure that being ‘Mrs. Harrington’ has plenty of responsibilities that go with the title.”

  You have no idea, Diana thought.

  “But I want you to feel entitled to the understanding that your biggest responsibilities are, first and foremost, to yourself and your baby,” Dr. Singer continued. “That means setting aside future appearances or social functions that you suspect will add to your stress. That also means wearing clothing and shoes that make you comfortable, and treating yourself to meals that revolve around your schedule and appetite.” She leveled a serious gaze at Diana. “Not someone else’s.”

  “Are you a mind reader, Dr. Singer?” Diana forced a laugh, but her doctor’s understanding of the situation was uncanny. “With your say-so, putting my foot down on future stressful activities will be... easier.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  The nurse returned with a printout, and Dr. Singer signed it and passed it to Diana. “This is a letter from me, with all my contact info readily available. My hope is that you won’t need to use it, but feel free to wield it should you need an excuse.”

  Diana carried the letter with her out into the lobby, fingers trembling. The numbers representing her blood pressure blurred before her eyes. Too high. She had been putting her baby at risk, and she felt completely powerless to calm herself. Life was moving too fast, and in a direction she had never foreseen for herself. And to do it all alone...

  She fumbled for her phone, but it wasn’t the driver she dialed. She immediately put a call in to Tony, praying all the while that he would pick up. Come on, Tony. Lower my blood pressure with a joke. Hell, just hearing your voice would do us a world of good right now...

  She couldn’t stop thinking about the baby, not to mention the pile of documents she had been given to pore over at home. She couldn’t stop thinking about her next scheduled appointment, which they had bumped up to a few days from now. A few days. How would she be able to sleep between then and now, knowing what a terrible mother she was being? Dr. Singer could tell Diana it wasn’t her fault all she wanted, but Diana couldn’t help feeling that she was failing... but if she could just get hold of Tony, she knew she would be okay, she wouldn’t feel so alone in this...

  Her call went to voicemail so quickly, she had to wonder if he hadn’t pressed the button himself. She stood bereft outside the hospital, staring at her phone as if it had betrayed her. The driver pulled up to receive her. No call necessary. She let herself in the passenger side without thinking, not bothering to let him do it for her—or to help herself to the more expansive seat in the back.