Page 34 of The Greek Tycoon's Baby Bargain

‘Croup? What the hell is croup?’ demanded Xandros.

‘Inflammation of the upper airway,’ said the medic. ‘Not an uncommon condition for a young baby at this time of the year. You say he has a twin? I’d better take a look at him, too.’

‘And the treatment?’ Rebecca’s voice was trembling. ‘Will he have to be admitted to hospital?’

‘That shouldn’t be necessary, Miss Gibbs.’ The doctor smiled. ‘I’m afraid the treatment is rather old-fashioned, too—you need to sit up with him and keep him in a moist atmosphere. A steamy bathroom is perfect—you can both take it in turns to run the bath.’

Xandros stared at the doctor. ‘You are telling me that, in this day and age, the only treatment is for us to run the bath?’ he repeated incredulously.

‘Just do it, will you, Xandros?’ Rebecca pleaded.

He nodded, hearing the sudden steel which underpinned her plea. ‘Ne, agape mou,’ he said softly. ‘I will do it now.’

The doctor pronounced Andreas clear and told Rebecca to keep the two babies apart for a couple of days. ‘I’ll drop in first thing tomorrow morning,’ he promised. ‘And in the meantime—you’ve got a long night ahead of you both.’

Rebecca carried her son into the bathroom, which was now so steamy that it took a second or two for her eyes to become accustomed to the mist when suddenly Xandros’s tall, shadowy figure appeared beside her and she started. But she had never been so glad to see someone in her life.

‘Here, let me take him,’ he said.

‘In a minute.’ Rebecca winced as her little baby began to wheeze. ‘I want to hold him. Oh, Xandros, we shouldn’t have gone to the party.’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ he gritted. ‘He was fine when we left—you know that, otherwise you would have refused to have gone. Do not blame yourself, Rebecca—for I will not let you. You are a good mother to our children,’ he declared fiercely.

‘None of it matters,’ she whispered, perilously close to tears and yet knowing that she couldn’t give in to them. ‘The only thing that matters is that he gets better.’

‘And he will get better.’

‘Will he?’ said Rebecca as she heard the fast, difficult breaths issuing from the little lungs and it felt as if someone were twisting a knife inside her.

‘Of course he will,’ said Xandros, with a conviction he did not feel—for this was something completely outside his domain and beyond his control. But his statement was intended to comfort Rebecca, not simply to ease his own, troubled thoughts.

How much happier he would have felt if the doctor had been able to give his son a tablet, or an injection—instead of this bizarre situation where he and Rebecca had to take it in turns to hold their coughing baby and keep renewing the hot water so that steam wafted in great warm clouds around them.

Their senses seemed disorientated by the misty atmosphere and the presence of fear. Never had seconds passed more slowly, nor minutes either. But eventually five became ten and then sixty and at last that first, difficult hour had gone. And with each passing hour, their son seemed less fretful than before. From being almost scared to breathe herself—for fear that she would miss any change in Alexius—Rebecca felt a little of the tension leave her body.

Was it her imagination, or did the child’s breathing become easier as the first faint flush of dawn began to streak the sky outside?

‘And to think I once thought that life in Greece was primitive,’ Xandros murmured as the baby’s wheezing gave way to the steadier tones of sleep and they looked at one another and instinctively knew that the danger had passed. ‘Steam,’ he said faintly, and shook his dark head with a wry smile.

‘Oh, Xandros,’ said Rebecca, and to her horror she began to cry, unable to stop the tears which were dripping down onto Alexius’s head, but Xandros wiped them away with his fingertips as fast as they fell.

‘Sshh.’ Shaken, he stared down at the wetness of her tears on his fingertips and briefly closed his eyes as a great wave of relief washed over him. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, but his voice was rough with emotion.

In the morning the doctor visited and examined Alexius, straightening up with a broad smile. ‘That’s the great thing about babies,’ he said cheerfully. ‘They worry the life out of you and then they bounce right back.’

Once he had gone, Xandros turned to her, his features shuttered, for the fear of what could have been was eating him up inside. ‘I am hiring two nursery nurses to sit with both babies at night,’ he announced.

‘But I want to look after them myself,’ she whispered.

‘Rebecca, I am not listening to any kind of argument—so you can wipe that stubborn look off your face.’ His face darkened, his accent growing more pronounced. ‘You cannot—and I mean that literally—sit up with your children day and night. You will collapse from exhaustion—and what good will that do anyone? Tell me that!’

She couldn’t fault his logic, but she felt as though everything was slipping from beyond her control. Hadn’t she been learning how to cope with their twins—and now this?

For the next few days, she operated on autopilot—drawing on reserves of energy and strength she didn’t know she possessed. The night-nurses were caring and efficient and as the days passed it was clear that Alexius was better in every way and that Andreas wasn’t affected, but Rebecca didn’t seem able to convince herself of that. It was like living in a recurring nightmare.

On the hour, every hour she awoke during the night with some superstitious fear making her sit bolt upright in bed, as if something awful were about to happen. She would rush into the nursery to find the nurses watching over her two angels and they would look at her as if she were very slightly…well, mad.

Until the afternoon the doctor visited and he and Xandros confronted her in the sitting room.

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