Page 25 of Valentine's with the Cartel

"It is getting late," Rafael said all of a sudden, his eyes narrowing as he noted my pallor and the sheen of sweat beading at my hairline. "I think it's time for this conversation to conclude, don't you agree?"

Mara opened her mouth to argue even as I nodded, eager for an escape from the stifling atmosphere and mounting pressure on my insides. But before she could utter a sound, my vision started to swim and black spots danced at the edges of my field of sight. With a strangled cry, I lunged up from my chair only to stagger to one side, barely managing to catch myself on the table before collapsing to the floor in a heap.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I gasped out, bile rising swiftly up my throat as the room began to spin around me like a top. "Please..." The last word was swallowed up by a wrenching retch as I lurched upright and stumbled blindly toward the restrooms, praying I wouldn't be too late.

Behind me, I heard Rafael swear loudly even as Aunt Mara called out my name in concern, but the sound faded into insignificance compared to the roaring in my ears. My entire body had gone hot and cold, icy sweat plastering my shirt to my back as a wave of intense nausea crashed over me like a tsunami.

I slammed through the restroom door without a second glance behind me, barely making it to the stalls before I was violently sick, retching up what little I had managed to eat that day in great heaving spurts. Tears streamed down my face as I clung to the sides of the toilet bowl, sobbing even as my stomach convulsed with each harsh contraction.

During all that, a terrifying thought kept looping through my mind with increasing insistence—could this be the morning sickness I had read about? Was my body truly betraying me at such a critical juncture in my life?

The idea made no logical sense—I was nowhere near ready to raise a child. But as another spasm wracked my frame,wringing painful groans from deep within my heaving chest, it became harder to ignore the insistent voice of intuition screaming that I was pregnant with Rafael's child, or even children.

My head spun as I clung to the toilet, barely registering when the door slammed open and Rafael's enraged bellow cut through the air like a whipcrack. The sound of running footsteps followed before his large form dropped to its knees beside me in one fluid motion, strong arms encircling my trembling frame with protective ferocity.

"Anan?" He rasped my name against my hair as he gathered me close, the urgent concern in his tone belying the gentleness of his hands. "What is happening? Talk to me, baby." He sounded terrified even as he worked to soothe me, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head as if I were made of porcelain.

I shook my head, unable to form coherent words even as the last violent spasms subsided and I slumped against him, exhausted beyond measure. His muscles shifted and flexed around me as he adjusted his hold, rocking us in the cradle of his arms while crooning low reassurances into my ear.

I didn't know how much time had passed before the worst of the storm eased enough for me to be certain I could speak without risking another round of retching. Rafael seemed to sense my renewed stability at the same moment, loosening his hold just enough to allow us both a modicum of mobility even as he continued to cradle me.

Rafael's arms tightened around my trembling form as I began to regain control of myself, my sobs dwindling into hiccupping whimpers even as he kept me anchored against his broad chest. Without him right here and now, I didn't know what I'd be doing.

"Shhh, it's alright sweetheart," he murmured into my ear, one large hand stroking the nape of my neck in slow, repetitivepatterns meant to comfort rather than arouse. It wasn't something he was used to doing, to say the least. "I've got you. Whatever's troubling you, we'll get through it together."

Even as his words filled me with a rush of tenderness and relief that made my throat ache, I couldn't help but flinch at the blatant lie I was forced to perpetuate against him. He deserved so much better than my silence and evasion, especially after all the trust he had placed in me thus far.

But I just couldn't bring myself to reveal what I suspected about my condition when there was still no solid evidence to back up my suspicions beyond some queasiness and an overly sensitive gag reflex. Not to mention, the mere thought of having a child with him at this point in our marriage filled me with equal parts elation and abject terror.

On top of that, what would my aunt say? Probably not anything nice. She never had anything nice to say to me, and it would only be worse if my suspicion turned out to be true.

Rafael and I had never explicitly discussed starting a family together beyond the vaguest hints about one day wanting that life as part of our happily ever after. I could hardly expect him to leap at the prospect now, especially not with Mara still hovering out there like some vulture waiting for us to collapse into pieces so she could swoop in and pick up whatever remnants remained. Bastard.

Rafael's expression darkened with suspicion as he searched my face, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read the thoughts flitting behind my eyes. "You can't just expect me to believe this was a random case of food poisoning," he growled, the steel undertone belying his true feelings on the matter. I knew he wouldn't be easily fooled. "Something else is going on here and I want the truth." It wasn't quite an order but close enough.

I swallowed hard, hating how my heart raced at the accusation in that gaze even as my palms began to sweat againsthis shirt where they rested against his chest. "It was just too much rich food," I mumbled, despising myself for the weak excuse even as I clung to the lie like a lifeline.

Rafael made a low, thoughtful sound deep in his throat, clearly not buying it but unwilling to press the issue any further for the moment. "Mmhm," was all he said, the noncommittal noise belying his true sentiments better than any overt argument ever could.

But as he reached up with one hand to gently wipe away the remaining moisture from my cheeks with an almost tender caress, I couldn't help but marvel at his restraint and patience in not demanding a full confession right then and there. He really was different.

Most alphas would have dragged me bodily out of that stall to confront me in front of the entire restaurant if they thought their omega was lying to them.

I could feel Rafael's eyes boring into me as he helped stabilize me and guide me back toward my waiting aunt, his hand splayed over the small of my back in an unmistakable show of possession and support.

Mara herself looked equal parts relieved and suspicious at our reappearance, her gaze flicking between us with laser-like intensity as she took in Rafael's proprietary stance and the lingering pallor of my cheeks. Whatever conclusion she drew from the scene, it was clear that she would not let it rest easily.

Plus, she was smart. She already had a lot of suspicions about what was happening.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better," she began, folding her hands before her on the table as if she were merely making pleasant conversation rather than preparing to pounce like the predator she was. "I do hope whatever ailment struck you so suddenly won't interfere with your appetite too severely thisevening. After you ran to the restroom, I was just telling Rafael how delighted I am at the thought of you extending our family."

If not for my queasy stomach and the lingering tremor in my limbs, I would have laughed out loud at her bald-faced hypocrisy. Here she had been openly speculating about the fragility of my mental health only minutes before, implying that my very grasp on reality was tenuous at best—and yet now she was cooing over the prospect of me having children.

Rafael's grip on me tightened almost imperceptibly at her words, his thumb tracing a soothing circle over the nape of my neck, reassuring me as much as he could.

I was happy for his support. Without it, I didn't know what I would be doing. I felt stronger against my aunt because of him.

No doubt he too had caught the subtle undercurrents of malice lurking beneath Mara's honeyed tone, but was wise enough not to openly challenge her in front of me lest she seize on any perceived weakness.

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