Redeemed By His Stolen Bride (Rival Spanish Brothers 2)
There was a lot riding on every decision Gabriel made now. His responsibilities and his legacy were growing exponentially and he wasn’t going to let anything distract from that. Not now, not ever.
* * *
When Gabriel returned home from the public bid he was met by Ernesto, who looked anxious. ‘It’s Leonora, sir, she hasn’t left the bedroom. She tells me she’s all right, but I’m concerned.’
Immediately all thoughts of the bid and the brief altercation he’d had with Lazaro Sanchez afterwards left Gabriel’s mind. He looked at his watch. It was early evening. That meant she’d been in bed all day with these pains. Surely this was not a usual menstrual problem?
He took the stairs two at a time to their bedroom and opened the door. Leonora was just a shape under the covers and he went over, his gut clenching with concern. She turned over and he could see even before he reached her that she was pale.
He sat down and automatically put a hand to her brow. It was clammy. ‘What is it? Is this a regular occurrence?’
She shook her head, dark hair slipping over one shoulder. Her cheekbones stood out starkly. She was clearly in pain.
‘Not every month. Some are worse than others. I have a history of bad cramps. They usually pass within a couple of days. How did the bid go?’
He waved a hand, dismissing that and asked, ‘Have you ever seen a doctor about this?’
She nodded. ‘When I was younger. He told me it was mild endometriosis.’
She tried to sit up and winced, sucking in a breath.
Gabriel made a split-second decision, pulling out his phone.
* * *
Leonora heard him, and went even more ashen. When he’d terminated the call she said, ‘Hospital really isn’t necessary, Gabriel. I just need to take some more painkillers and I’ll be feeling much better by morning.’
Gabriel stood up and said tautly, ‘We’re not debating this, Leo. You need to get checked.’
Leonora was in too much pain to argue with Gabriel, much as she’d have liked to. She couldn’t deny that she was a little freaked out herself, because this month her cramps seemed even more acute than normal.
She got out of bed slowly, trying not to show how much of an effort it took. Gabriel found some shoes and laid them by the bed. As she stood up a wave of dizziness hit her.
Immediately Gabriel was scooping her up into his arms and Leonora realised she was too weak to argue. Most likely from not having eaten all day.
She tried to protest, but he was already out of the room and down the stairs, walking into the main hall, saying something to Ernesto, who leapt to
attention, opening the passenger door of Gabriel’s car.
Gabriel put her in as carefully as if she was made of fine bone china.
She said, ‘Really, there’s no need for this...’ But he didn’t listen to her, strapping her in and closing the door.
Leonora kept her mouth shut as Gabriel drove into the city and stopped on the forecourt of a hospital. People were there to greet them and Leonora was embarrassed—until a wave of pain from her abdomen made her grit her teeth.
An orderly appeared at her door with a wheelchair for her to sit in, and suddenly she was glad that they were there. Because this was definitely not normal any more.
The following few hours became a blur as she underwent a series of tests. There was a lull while they waited for the doctor to return with some results. Wanting to divert her mind from all sorts of scary possibilities, she asked Gabriel about the bid again.
He turned around from where he was standing at the window, hands in his pockets. His tie was pulled loose, the top button of his shirt open, jacket off and thrown on a chair. His hair was mussed because he’d been running a hand through it.
He said, ‘We won’t know for at least another month. The two bids have gone on public display at City Hall and the public now has a chance to see both sets of plans and to vote for their favourite. Their vote, together with the city councillors, will decide who gets the commission.’
‘Was Lazaro there?’
Gabriel’s expression darkened. He nodded. ‘Yes—and his wife.’
Leonora plucked at the sheet, feeling guilty. ‘I’m sorry again that I wasn’t there.’