Mr. & Mrs.: An Arranged Marriage Romance

Strong arms lift me into a comforting lap, and immediately, I feel better. My chest doesn’t feel like there’s a constrictor wrapped around it anymore. “Baby, do you think I’d have let you come without thoroughly investigating this doctor first?”

I look up at his words. “You didn’t?” He smirks. “You did!” I half shriek. The infuriating man has the gall to just smile at what he’s done.

Before I can say anything, a cheerful, “Miss Dolan?” is called out into the waiting room.

Standing with me in his arms, Jordan walks to the now shocked nurse and quietly tells her, “It’s Mrs. Maxwell now,” with a commanding grin on his smug face.

The nurse blushes and my glare at my husband amps up in response to face her.

“Right, then,” she clears her throat. “Mrs. Maxwell, this way please.”

“You can put me down now,” I mutter as we follow the perky nurse.

After getting us settled in the room, she smiles brightly over at Jordan and says, “Dr. Stewart will be right in.”

“If you don’t stop that they’re going to think you have an eye twitch.” Jordan laughs at me like he’s a comedian.

“She was ogling you. You made it very clear of my marital status, and she ogles you! Who does that?” I can’t help that I’m worked up. Damn pregnancy hormones.

“Horny nurses, that’s who,” an equally frustrated voice says behind us.

Pushing my way from Jordan’s arms as he spins around, the doctor is standing there trying ever so hard not to laugh at my tantrum.

“Pretty men make Mallory nervous.” Dr. Stewart smiles. “So, Megan, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty?” Jordan questions from behind me.

“I’m fine. Tired a lot. Craving some seriously questionable items, but overall, I feel great.”

“Any morning sickness?” She helps me up onto the table to lay down.

Her fingers on my abdomen are cold as I answer. “Occasionally, but not as much as I had expected.”

“Good.” She looks through my file. “You’re nearly to the end of your first trimester, and if it hasn’t hit you terribly by now, it likely won’t.” Flipping through a few pages, she inquires, “You had some blood tests done before coming here. About a month ago?”

Now I’m nervous. “Yes. Is something wrong?”

“Have you had any spotting?” Why won’t she answer me?

“No. None. Not since I realized I missed my period.” Taking a deep breath, my hands fidget. “What’s wrong? What did I do wrong?”

“Do?” She’s genuinely puzzled by that. “Absolutely nothing, Megan. Your iron is a little low; nothing wrong with that. I just wanted all the information first.”

“You’re sure?”

“Cross my heart.” She beams at me and makes the motion of crossing her finger over her heart.

“Now, would you like to see the baby?”

“We can do that?” Jordan asks excitedly.

“Oh yes