That someone else was watching Armando about to close the door behind him after he’d dropped a bomb that had devastated her reality.
He’d said she was pregnant.
Pregnant!
“Armando!”
Armando froze, the temptation to swear a blue streak, to run, overwhelming.
This wasn’t how he’d thought this would happen. Not that he’d given it much thought. He’d still been struggling to come to terms with it himself, and he’d hoped to have this confrontation only once he had. He’d had vague plans that they’d talk, about the baby and what next. He hadn’t expected she’d push him into acting without thinking, hadn’t expected she’d want to leave.
Not very bright since, come to think of it, it made sense she’d want to.
So. No use flaying himself over another bad call. Her bad calls were what mattered now. Judging by what she’d done today, her decision-making was obviously impaired. Only one priority existed. She was staying. He wasn’t letting her go in her condition. And not with Diego’s baby.
You just can’t imagine seeing the last of her, Salazar, a candid voice in his head said. Admit it.
Oh, whatever! He just had to stop her in her tracks. And he surely had.
Not for long, though.
He dragged his feet back into the room, closed the door and leaned on it. “Laura, por favor, leave it till later.”
Her laugh broke out, hysteria tingeing it. “When later? When I’m in labor?”
He stared at her, clutching the blanket, eyes wild, lips trembling. He didn’t know what else to say.
“How could you possibly know I’m pregnant? When I sure as hell don’t? When it’s impossible?”
“It’s not impossible. When you started deteriorating and I knew we had to operate, I had all sort of tests done. That’s how I know.”
“I didn’t know pregnancy tests were routine before emergency ops!”
Shouldn’t she be dulled by the sedative already—by everything else, for that matter? He shook his head and exhaled. “Normally, they aren’t. But I asked for everything. Lab thought everything included a pregnancy test. It was a good thing, too. This way I picked category A medications and anesthetics that aren’t harmful to fetal development.”
“I still tell you it’s impossible. I haven’t—we haven’t…” Her words trailed off, her angry agitation giving way to a look of supreme concentration. Followed by frightening pallor.
Laura felt her consciousness ebbing, then a wave of sickness rose, threatening to engulf her.
She’d fallen into Diego’s arms at first, coming with all the building eagerness of their year-long online romance, of believing she’d finally found her soulmate. The one. Her rose-tinted glasses had been firmly in place and Diego’s incredible good looks and concentrated charm had completed her dazzle. It hadn’t taken long for reality to come into focus once more.
But they’d used protection and—and that did have a failure rate! As for the period she’d had recently, it was possible to have one at the beginning of a pregnancy…
Suddenly it was crucial to know. “How far along am I?”
“I’d say about eight weeks.”
And since Diego had been dead one week, it had probably happened that last time. That time she’d known for sure she didn’t want him any more. The time she’d told him it was over. Just over a month after they’d started their relationship. How ironic.
And how disastrous. An unwanted pregnancy, by an unwanted man. A dead man to boot!
But—but the tests could be wrong, maybe a mix-up. These things happened. God—please, make it a mistake…
The world receded. Armando blurred out of focus. Just before she lost sight of him, she thought, He’s injected me with a sedative. A safe one for pregnant women, no doubt. How thoughtful…
* * *
Time stopped for Armando the moment Laura closed her eyes. He stared down at her sleeping her artificial sleep. An alien, disruptive sensation itched in his chest.
Three months since he’d first laid eyes on her. No way could he have predicted then that it would end like this. Diego dead, her pregnant, and him… What about him?
He was getting what he wanted at last—GAO’s resources and connections. But GAO had been in Argentina for a long time, and they hadn’t done much—until she’d come. She’d moved things, made things happen. Diego had said it had all been for him, to please him. That it was all her own personal clout and her family’s.
He hadn’t cared how he’d got help as long as he got it. That was, until he’d seen her.
Breathtaking had been the first thought that had filled his mind. I want her the second. The third I can’t have her.
Diego had known. He’d looked his triumph into his eyes and bragged, “Isn’t she something? And she’s all mine.”
So he’d resorted to being dismissive and remote. Then Diego had made it impossible to stay remote, so he’d stayed dismissive…
But he’d needed GAO, and this had meant more Laura, everywhere in his life. Then Diego had given him…details. More than he could stomach knowing. He’d told him how things had gone downhill, fast, how he’d no longer wanted her, how she’d clung. That hadn’t sat right. He’d suspected Diego had been trying to save face. Laura didn’t seem the type to cling to anyone.
Maybe he should have done something besides providing an unwilling ear. If he had, maybe it wouldn’t have ended up this way.
Yeah, sure. With his track record, they would have both fallen flat on their backs laughing if he’d preached relationship success.
Oh, he’d wanted their relationship to succeed, had he?
A token knock at the door cut through his mesmerized contemplation of Laura, bringing in Lucianna Perez, his godmother and head emergency nurse.
“Sorry, Armando, but there’s been a huge fire in a high-rise housing complex in Rosario and medical services there are swamped and crying out for help. Most victims threw themselves out of windows and there are dozens of them. All multiple injuries besides the burns. Two firemen were injured, too. Since you’re back, I thought you’d want to head the team going to the scene.”
He nodded, snapping back to professional mode. But first… “Luci, get Matilda back in here. When her shift’s over, her replacement takes her place. I want constant monitoring and minimum movement. Anything happens, no matter how minor and no matter where I am, report it immediately.”
With a final look at Laura he ran out, putting on the fluorescent medical team yellow jacket Lucianna had handed him. “What’s ready?”
Lucianna’s answer was prompt—and regretful. “El Bicho is the only one left on the ground right now.”
And was there any wonder why? His pilots avoided the archaic bucket of bolts so aptly called The Bug like the plague. Saddling him with it on his emergency flights was their way of protesting its existence on their meager fleet. As if he could afford to trash the monstrosity and had chosen not to! “And who’s left behind?”
“Only Dr. Burnside’s people.”
Armando gritted his teeth. So the day had come when he was forced to take them on, rely on them. They’d been complaining of lack of occupation. Now they’d get it with a capital O.
With Laura spearheading