Page 22 of Beau

“Since I started doing this. Since I became pregnant.” She blew and then sipped. “I am afraid you are going to get upset.” Putting down the cup, she turned to face him fully.

“I was in the bathroom, vomiting my stomach out and all I wanted was my husband.”

His expression softened. He was furious with her for trying to bear everything on her own, but he supposed he had given her reasons to exclude him.

“And I would have wanted to be there.” Pulling the bowl toward him, he dipped the spoon in and brought it to her lips. With her eyes trained on his, she swallowed the liquid and the carrots.

“I did not want to worry you.”

He took another spoonful and offered it to her. “That’s what I am here for. I would appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”

“I promise.” She ate the entire bowl of soup, under his watchful eyes and accepted the cup of tea which had cooled a little.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

His brows lifted. “I don’t think any thanks is necessary. I love taking care of you. How is your stomach?”

“Better.” She finished the tea and put away the cup. “It’s almost Christmas. I was thinking we could have a party with just my sisters and their families and your dad.”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “Just us.”

“Beau–”

“I will not have you stressing over China patterns and roast duck. You are pregnant and I am going to see to it that you take it easy.”

“What about your dad?” she demanded, feeling her ire rising. If he was going to be this much of a pain in the ass and her pregnancy was not even at an advanced stage yet, what on earth did she have to look forward to later on?

“My dad will be having Cynthia over for the holidays.”

“Ooh.” Her expression became positively fluid. “Are things progressing that much?”

“Don’t get your hopes up," he told her, dampening. “My dad, like me, has a one-track mind when it comes to love.”

“So, he is just leading poor Cynthia on?” She bristled. “I like her, and she adores Blake.”

“You’re getting off topic.”

“I would much rather get ‘off topic’ as you put it, than have this asinine discussion with you. I am not an invalid–”

“There is every possibility that you might be carrying multiples and if that’s the case, you need to take it easy. You were the one who fought for this, remember? And I also should remind you that you cannot have your cake and eat it too.” He withstood her furious glare until she was the first to look away.

“Is that so bad?” he asked softly. “Spending Christmas, just the two of us?”

His tone and words had her looking at him and she could feel her ire dissipating. He was right of course.

Last Christmas holiday, she had been frantic, rushing all over the place, shopping for her myriad number of nieces and nephews as well as her sisters, their husbands, her husband and father-in-law and her friends. Then she hired caterers to prepare the meal, then turned around micro-managing them.

She had wanted everything to be perfect. It was the first major holiday as a married woman to a powerful man and she wanted to make an impression. When it was all over, she was so exhausted, she had collapsed in bed and slept for most of the day, missing waking up to Christmas with her husband.

But he had not complained. They had leftovers, by the fire and made love until they both fell asleep again.

“No," she conceded. “I would much rather spend the time with you.”

“Good.” Sweeping away the remnants of her meal, he moved closer to her. “No more secrets," he whispered in her ear.

“I promise.”

“I don’t want this to get between us.”