Risqué Business (Club Risqué #8)

CHAPTER 1

T his was not the time to fall apart!

Desi Blackwood ushered her brother-in-law, Jake, into the hospital room, where his wife, Desi’s best friend, Charlotte, was in the final stages of labour. “You’re just in time,” she told him, forcefully pushing away her own discomfort as she followed him inside.

Desi had been acting as Charlotte’s birthing coach in Jake’s absence. The baby was three weeks early and had taken them all by surprise. Not least Jake, who had been a thousand miles away, on the other side of the country, when Charlotte was rushed into hospital after her water broke.

Because Jake was away, and the baby was premature, Charlotte had needed Desi. And although Desi herself was feeling dreadful, her back was aching and her abdomen kept clenching and cramping, she stayed silent, pulled on the no-nonsense, ‘ice-queen’ persona everyone at her office knew her for, and pushed her own discomfort aside so she could help her best friend.

But damn, was it a relief when Jake finally turned up. Now, she could take a step back, sit down for five minutes, and attempt to get her breath back. She didn’t leave the birthing suite, just collapsed into a chair, closed her eyes, and allowed the temporary relief from being off her feet to ease her ills. Trust her to pick the worst possible time to get sick.

Ten minutes later, everything was forgotten when the doctor clapped Jake on the back and announced, “You have a son!”

Desi sprang to her feet and gasped as she got her first look at the tiny, wrinkled, purple-hued newborn as he was laid on Charlotte’s chest. The love she felt for her nephew was immediate, but after a brief hold, and kisses and hugs all around, she decided it was time to leave the loved-up parents in peace and privacy before the next stream of visitors arrived.

And to find some damn painkillers.

And to get a shower because she felt sticky and clammy.

On the drive home she rang Joel on her car phone. “Congratulations, you’re an uncle to a bouncing baby boy by the name of Jacob Junior,” she told her husband when he picked up.

“Did Jake get back in time?” he asked, and they chatted for a while about the details.

“I’m on my way home now. Where are you?”

“I’m in the car too. I should be home at about the same time.”

“That’s great,” she replied with a sigh. “You can deal with food. I’ve got a backache and cramps from all the stress and activity of the day.”

“Are you okay? Is that normal?” Joel asked, his voice taking on a more serious note. They hadn’t told anyone about her pregnancy yet. It was early days, and there had been a lot of other stuff going on with all the various celebrations, and they hadn’t wanted to steal anybody else’s fire.

“Sure, it is,” Desi reassured him. “The gynaecologist said to expect stuff like this, remember? I’ll be fine once I get a shower and have a chance to relax.”

As it was, he beat her home, and Desi found Joel in their bedroom, changing out of his business suit when she walked in.

“Hey there,” he leaned in and gave her a kiss that under any other circumstances would have had her pulse racing, but she was so exhausted it barely registered today.

Pulling away, she stripped out of her clothes, down to her underwear, feeling particularly gross, and bent down to grab some comfortable, cosy pyjamas out of her bedside drawer.

“Desi!?”

She groaned and rubbed at her spine as her back twinged and her stomach cramped as she turned to look at him, her eyes widening as she took in the look on Joel’s ashen face.

“What is it? What happened? Are Charlotte and the baby okay?” she asked, spinning around as she picked up on his panic. The sharp movement sent a sharper wave of cramps stabbing through her abdomen, and with a dawning horror, she felt something sticky dribble down her thighs.

No! The word was silent, but it exploded in her head with the force of a nuclear bomb.

She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see the kind of terror on her husband’s face that she’d never witnessed from him before.

She shook her head as he opened his mouth, clinging to denial, even though she knew it was hopeless.

Joel said the words anyway, his voice cracking from the strain under which he held himself. Though quiet, they resounded through the room with the force of a tropical storm, shattering everything.

“Desi, you’re bleeding.”