Forged in Steele (KGI #7)(23)



Steele shook his head. “I’ll let them know. Catch you later.”

“Want to use the Kelly jet?” Sam offered.

Steele didn’t rise to the bait. Sam had guessed he was traveling off, but he wasn’t about to use the KGI jet and have it logged that he was flying to Costa Rica. He’d catch his own damn flight.

CHAPTER 9

MAREN applied a tourniquet to her own arm and made a fist as she lined up the butterfly needle to insert in her vein. It was hard to focus on drawing her own blood when the reason for doing it weighed so heavily on her mind.

She was probably being silly. They had used condoms after all. But her period was regular to the day. Never early. Never late. And she was three days late.

Not to mention her queasiness in the mornings, and her br**sts were tender to the touch. It was probably all in her head. A part of her wondered if subconsciously she wanted to be pregnant and her body was just playing along with that hope. Mind over matter.

But a pregnancy would be a complication she was ill equipped for. Not to mention she doubted Steele would take the news well that he might be up for impending fatherhood. No way in hell she was breathing a word to him until she knew for certain one way or another. The last thing she wanted was to get him worked up over a possibility and then have it all be a false alarm. He’d never come near her again, and who could blame him? Nothing like a pregnancy scare to prevent any future intimacy.

Not that she imagined he would be lining up for a repeat of that first night. He’d made himself abundantly clear that it was a onetime deal and that he wanted her out of his system. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But it was doubtful she’d see any more of him. Though he’d said it would be business as usual, and it wasn’t as if they were chatty all the other times they came into contact, but there was no way she’d be able to look him in the eye and pretend she didn’t know what he looked like naked. Nor did she want to forget what he looked like naked. That was a memory she’d take to her grave.

With a sigh she packaged the blood sample, affixed the fictitious patient name, though it was silly since she and whatever lab rat did the testing would be the only people to see the name, and put it in the bag with the other blood samples from her patients she’d gathered.

She’d send off her blood sample with the rest of the labs she’d collected for her own peace of mind. Once the thought of pregnancy had entered her mind, it had ruled her entire existence and she’d been unable to think of anything else.

She pushed away from her desk and then looked out her window to see the courier who picked up her labs drive up to the clinic. Perfect timing. No time to chicken out and remove her specimen. She snagged the insulated bag, zipped it up and hurried toward the entrance.

The driver met her at the door with a friendly smile. He collected the bag from Maren and then hurried back to his van with a wave. Her pulse raced and she had to quell the urge to yell for him to come back. She bit her lips and forced herself to remain still until the vehicle was out of sight.

With a sigh she turned back and walked inside the clinic to lock up for the night. Her patient load had been light today and her last patient had left the clinic an hour before, leaving Maren to finish up the labs and draw her own blood.

After turning off all the lights, she let herself out the front and locked the door. She walked slower to her cottage, the afternoon sun warm on her skin. She palmed her belly, wondering if even now there was a tiny life forming inside her. Then she castigated herself for dwelling on it so much.

If it turned out she wasn’t pregnant, would she be relieved or disappointed?

It wasn’t a question she had the answer to. There was a small part of her that welcomed the idea of a baby, no matter how ill prepared she was for having a child. And a much larger part of her that panicked at the mere thought.

But there was absolutely nothing she could do about it now except wait for the results of the blood test. And it did her no good to play the what-if game. It would only make her crazy.

It was warm in her cottage, so she opened the windows to allow the breeze in and circulate more air. She had no desire to cook and so she rummaged through her cabinets for something quick and easy.

She put a kettle of water to boil for her routine cup of tea after a day of work, selecting a tea bag and placing it in her favorite mug that one of the locals had gifted her with. It was handpainted, a beautiful array of colors, vivid, in russet earth tones. It soothed and comforted her, and she definitely needed calming today.

Deciding on a sandwich with locally made cheese and a homemade herb spread she’d picked up from a local street vendor, she sat at her tiny table and stared through the picture window, enjoying the breeze on her face.

She savored every sip of the tea and decided that she’d have another and maybe get in some reading as a reward for a shorter day. It wasn’t often she finished with her patients before nightfall. And even when she’d closed down and gone home, she was often visited at her cottage after hours by people in need of medical attention.

She preferred not to make house calls, because she liked to be certain what she was getting into, but she’d delivered two babies in their homes when labor had progressed too quickly for the women to make it to a hospital.

After finishing the first cup of tea, she set the kettle off the stove and turned it off, deciding to shower and change into more comfortable clothing before indulging in her second cup and a good book.

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