Page 37 of Conail (Members From Money Season 2, #150)

She insisted on attending and wore down his resistance.

It was the spring gala organized by the group of wives, and it was being held at the brand-new luxury hotel on Federal Street, the one the press had been raving about, one that her husband's company had invested in as well.

Of course she had to make an appearance.

She was big as a house, but she wanted to go out one last time before she had to stay home and take care of their son. She had also rejected the idea of hiring a nanny for the first six months.

"If I start feeling overwhelmed, then we look into it. I'm not going to hand over my responsibility as a mother to some stranger. I work from home anyway."

They had been to several functions as a couple, and the media, instead of cooling things down about them and moving to other matters, were still featuring them in several society magazines.

Yasmine had told her mother and sister-in-law with a laugh that it was difficult for them to believe that a man like Conail McLaughlin was with her.

"Nonsense," her mother had responded with a wave of her hand. "The man is fortunate to be with you. And he knows it."

She had already met most of the wives, and they had clicked. She was amazed at how down to earth they all were. She had finally met Jackson Colby and his brother Jason, much to her delight. His wife Jerri and she had hit it off immediately and became friends.

She was still trying to get used to being married to someone like Conail.

She had known initially that he was a powerful man of wealth and status and came from 'old money'.

But to see him in action whenever she had gone to his office had left her overwhelmed and had her wondering what on earth he was doing with her.

He still had not said the words she was longing to hear, and it wasn't settling well with her.

He was attentive and loving, and she knew he wasn't seeing anyone else.

He was passionate and intense when he made love to her, and during the night he would wrap his arms possessively around her, bringing her close to him.

He was at every doctor's visit, no matter how busy he was.

He had only gone on one overseas appointment and had checked on her every day until he returned.

She got along with his mother famously. Eleanor would check in every day and had drawn her into becoming involved with several charities she was a part of.

But she was longing to hear the words and resented the fact that he denied her that.

She had seen his ex and her husband at a few of the functions, and the first time she came face to face with the exotically beautiful woman, she had felt like an elephant in a circus act.

Everything about her screamed exquisite, and she could not see how Conail could not still love her.

But he had held her hand during the introductions and offered polite, yet distant conversation.

He had also made it brief before leading her away.

There was no indication that he was pining over her.

But Yasmine continued to have this nagging doubt and fear that he was.

So, she was determined to attend the gala of the season. And for that, she had conferred with Monique on the style of the dress.

"We have some plus-sized pregnancy outfits that are going to take your breath away," Monique had assured her. "Leave it to me."

And she had come through on her promise.

The pantsuit or rather romper was made out of a stunning soft and slithery hammered gold wool that molded her belly and flared out at the legs.

A sheer jacket, large and flowing, completed the ensemble.

Her husband's gift of a diamond necklace was around her throat.

Her hair had grown enough for the stylist to scrape the front into several small twists, intertwining little gold beads in between the springy curls.

Her makeup was flawless, and the diamond earrings swung like a pendulum at her lobes. She completely took his breath away, Conail realized dazedly.

Eleanor watched in satisfaction as all eyes turned to them as they made the circle around the dance floor. Plucking two glasses of champagne from the passing waiter, she wandered over to where Michelle was standing, her eyes trained on the couple, and handed her one.

"Oh, Eleanor. I didn't see you there." She accepted the glass after hesitating briefly, eyes straying to the couple.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes. He looks happy." There was a wistful note in her voice that could not be ignored.

"He is. She makes him happy."

"I made a mistake."

"Of course you did, darling. But he bounced back from it and is with the right woman." Lifting her glass in a toast, Eleanor drifted off, leaving Michelle staring at the couple for a while.

He kissed her. For the first time in his life, Conail did not care who was watching. She was inside him, around him, and he could not keep his hands off her.

"Have I told you that you're the most beautiful woman in the room?"

"Tell me again," she ordered. One hand was sliding around his neck and playing with the fringes of hair at his nape. "I cannot hear it too much."

"You're beautiful." His lips brushed hers, and he felt the tremors. "And you're mine. I love you." The words sprang from him as if they could not be contained any longer. "I love you." He kissed the edges of her glossy lips. "I love you so much -- it's too much."

"Conail--" Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. "I've waited so long to hear you say it. I love you so much. I--"

His eyes sharpened at the look on her face. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I--" Her fingers dug into the back of his neck as she took a deep breath.

"Christ Jesus! Now? What's going on? Are you in labor?"

"No. I--" Leaning against him, she took another deep breath. "Yes. I'm sorry, but I've been feeling this nagging pain in my back since early this morning."

He was going to kill her. As soon as he stopped the sick dread from enveloping him, he was going to commit murder.

Lifting his head, he signaled his mother. She came immediately.

"My wife's in labor."

"Let me call an ambulance."

"It's too late for that." She dug her fingers in his neck.

"I'm taking her. Call the doctor and the hospital." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he hurried her off the dance floor. The crowd parted for them as if realizing the urgency, and within minutes, his vehicle was brought around.

He strapped her in carefully, ignoring his shaking fingers and the need to peel out of the parking lot.

"Damn it all!" He swore viciously as he merged into traffic. "Where the hell is everyone going at this time of night?"

He then made the mistake of glancing at her, only to see her fighting the need to moan, and her hands were clasped in a tight grip. His stomach clenched in response, and he almost rear-ended an SUV.

Pressing his hand on the horn, he kept it there and took a sharp swerve. "How long?" he asked tersely. "Goddammit, Yasmine, how long have you been feeling the pains?"

Taking a deep breath, she counted off as she had been taught in the birthing class and felt the pain ease to somewhat bearable. It felt like her back was being split in two. She seriously thought about lying.

"Early this morning. Watch out!" He barely avoided sideswiping a black limousine.

When he got back in the lane, he sent her a glare that cut through her like glass. "As soon as we're out of this bloody mess, I'm going to kill you. Our son is going to be motherless."

"I love you." She broke off with a gasp. "Oh God!"

"Darling, hang on. Please." His face was white with strain, his knuckles prominent. "Just ten more minutes. Where are the damn police when we need them?" As if his voice and mind had conjured them up, they appeared just ahead and effectively parted traffic.

"Mother, bless her heart," he muttered with a prayer of thanks. It was smooth sailing after that, and within minutes, he screeched into the parking lot. Flinging the door open, he took her hand as the attendants raced forward with a wheelchair.

"I'm here, baby." He reached for her hand.

"Don't leave me."

"Never."

*****

"Breathe, baby." He had his arms wrapped around her and wondered what the bloody hell was taking so long. Thankfully, she had been given the epidural and was not suffering so much. But he knew she was exhausted. He could feel it in the trembling of her hands around his neck.

"How much longer?" He kept his voice level with great difficulty as he looked over at the team of doctors and nurses.

"The head is crowning." The goddamned doctor had the nerve to be smiling.

"Right then," he gritted.

"Darling, be patient." His brave and wonderful wife turned her face to him and kissed his cheek. "First babies usually take their time, or so I'm told."

"I'm fine," he assured her. He would have cheerfully promised her anything right now. He just wanted her to get through this.

"Alright, Yasmine," Dr. Manning urged in a cheerful voice. "Push when I tell you. Now."

Mustering up all her flagging strength, she gave one mighty push and sagged back against her husband's chest. The piercing cry of the baby had her perking up immediately.

"I want to see him. Let me see my son."

The nurse finished cleaning the wailing baby and wrapped him up before bringing him over to the parents. "He's adorable," she beamed as she placed him in Yasmine's arms.

"He's perfect." She touched the bunched fists and stared dazedly at the creamy complexion, the sparse dark hair, and searching light green eyes.