Page 57 of Flynn

“You didn’t say anything.” he accused her.

“I will be certain to make a note of every time I have a queasy moment and itemize every time I bring up my meal.”

“Do that,” he said tightly.

She stared at him. “That was sarcasm.”

“And I choose to take it seriously.” His free hand tilted her chin up. “How bad?”

“I am not going to answer that.” She tried to wrest her chin from his grip.

“Humor me.”

She started to say something, but she realized he was dead serious.

“Leave it alone.”

“You know better than that.”

They sat there glaring at each other. Across from them, Julia watched the interplay across from them in absolute delight and realized they had completely forgotten she was there.

They did so well together; she had never seen her son so happy. She also realized that Gracie had played a part, as if she was trying to impress those around her. But Ryleigh was not like that. She would never stop trying to please Flynn; they were perfect for each other.

Just as the maid wheeled in the tray, Ryleigh used that opportunity to pull away and surge to her feet. Both Julia and Flynn saw when she swayed, her knees buckling. But he was quick. Rising swiftly, he swept her into his arms.

“My dear, are you okay?” Julia gestured to the maid to leave the tray.

“Just lightheaded.” She murmured, leaning against the muscular chest.

“Nauseous?” he asked her gently.

“Just a little queasy,” she admitted.

“I am taking you upstairs.” He looked at his mother.

“I will send something up. Tea, perhaps?”

Ryleigh nodded.

Without another word, Flynn strode from the room with her cradled in his arms.

Sitting back down, Julia poured a glass of wine, a smile hovering at her lips. Ringing the bell, she summoned Hilda. “Send something up to Flynn’s room. Ryleigh is not feeling well.”

“The little one acting up?” The woman had been with the family long enough to be afforded certain privileges, and Julia and her son treated them like human beings.

“Yes,” Julia nodded happily. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Ryleigh was not thinking that way. Her head was pounding, and her stomach had gone from bad to worse.

“Bathroom, now.” She told him. He complied swiftly, quickening his steps until they were inside his gold and cream bathroom with the enormous shower installed and claw-footed bath in the middle of the floor.

Bending with her in his arms, he held her head over the commode and felt something twisting inside him when she started retching. Gently combing back her hair and having the thick strands in his fist, he waited patiently until she was finished.

Lifting her, he carried her to the double sink and put her on top of it while he filled a cup with water so she could rinse her mouth.

“Better?” he asked softly, coming to stand between her thighs.

“Yes.” She told him hoarsely. Leaning against him, she breathed in his scent and felt his warmth and strength enveloping her. He had entwined himself so much in her life that she could not see herself without him, which scared her. But right now, there was no place she would rather be than have his strong arms encircling her body.

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