Page 99 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

Clearly Portia agreed. As he leaned towards her she lay back. He found himself leaning over her looking into bright eyes. Her expression made his heart sing.

This was going to work. Everything was going to be okay.

Everything was okay. Far more than okay. The past five weeks had passed in a haze of well-being and comfort.

That final week on Lex’s island had been paradise. Lex had been attentive, tender and passionate and Portia had felt blissfully alive, optimistic and convinced she’d made the right decision to marry him.

That had continued in London. Miraculously Lex had found a stunning Mayfair home with its own private garden less than ten minutes’ walk from the auction house.

He finished work early enough to spend the evenings with her, sometimes taking her to fabulous restaurants or galleries. Their nights were filled with such passion she felt almost as if she were sixteen again and wildly in love.

The obstetrician was happy with the baby’s progress too. Even Portia’s morning sickness had subsided.

Thirteen weeks and two days into her pregnancy and all was well.

Yet her mind raced and the tension that had settled between her shoulder blades lately had turned into a constant ache.

At the end of this week Lex would jubilantly announce her pregnancy to his family. He’d already talked about an engagement ring. Would she prefer modern or antique? Diamonds or something different?

Portia rolled one shoulder, feeling the stiffness there as she stirred bechamel sauce for the moussaka. She checked the clock. She’d left work early to attend her obstetrician’s appointment and there was still plenty of time before Lex got back from his meeting. It would be a nice surprise to share a home-cooked meal instead of dining out or ordering in something prepared by a professional chef.

Maybe she’d make dessert. It would keep her busy.

The sauce was ready. She turned it off and poured it over the moussaka. Then bit her lip when her unsteady hold resulted in a massive splat of hot sauce across the countertop and her hand.

Maybe more cooking wasn’t a good idea. Maybe she should have a relaxing bath instead.

But Portia preferred to do something that kept her mind occupied.

Thirteen weeks and two days.

Another five days until they were engaged.

It would be all right. Of course it would be all right. The wheels had fallen off her life before but this time was different.

What if it’s not? How will you cope?

The tension in her shoulders swept down her back and around, making the muscles in her abdomen spasm. She gasped and put her hand to her belly. One slow breath then another. On the third she tottered to a stool by the island bench, subsiding there while she caught her breath. The spasms stopped.

Heat prickled her hairline even as a chill enveloped her. Her heart hammered too fast and she felt tremors racking her body.

She needed to be calm. She was worrying unnecessarily. Everything would be fine.

‘Portia? You’re home?’

Lex had rung her at work to see if she’d like to go out tonight, only to be told she’d left early for some appointment. She hadn’t mentioned leaving early and he’d been surprised. These last weeks they’d shared everything.

He shook his head as he strode down the hall. She’d probably gone to get a haircut or something equally ordinary.

But his sixth sense stirred with a warning. Lately she’d had something on her mind. He hadn’t probed, not wanting to push her. But despite her sweet lovemaking and passionate kisses, he sensed moments of distraction, even tension.

Was she regretting her decision to marry him?

The idea carved a hollow through him.

They were so good together. Surely she saw that? Weeks ago he wouldn’t have questioned it but lately he’d begun to wonder. Her recent determination to fill every hour seemed almost frenetic. If it had been later in the pregnancy he’d have wondered about the nesting instinct he’d read about kicking in. But surely it was too early for that. She didn’t even look pregnant.

Apart from her lusher than usual breasts that filled his hands so perfectly.

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