Page 152 of Modern Romance December 2025 5-8

‘Don’t tell me—tell her.’

A suited figure appeared, sensing the atmosphere but squaring his shoulders anyway, and interrupted two generations of Romanos. ‘I’m sorry, but I thought you should know that…’

A prickle of icy premonition ran down Leo’s spine. ‘What, man?’

‘Miss Sinclair is unwell. She just collapsed.’

‘Where is she?’

‘She’s still in the kitchen. We thought it best not to move her until a doctor had seen her.’

Leo flashed a frantic look at his grandfather, who just said, ‘Go!’

He looked at the messenger as Leo vanished and said drily, ‘Like I, or anyone else, could stop him.’

The kitchen had been cleared of staff, so the only people present were the young female chef and a doctor who was here as a guest, not professionally.

The icy hand of dread in his chest tightened. The guilt clawed at him like a fist as he thought of the last words he had said to her. He’d found her again after nine long years; she was his heart and his home, and now he could have lost her.

She was young; she couldn’t die.

But his mother had been young and she had died.

He closed off the internal dialogue, his attempt to run to her side foiled by the doctor.

‘A word first, please.’

Leo flashed a look at the pale, immobile figure on the floor. She looked so small, so fragile, so broken.

Swallowing his impatience, he allowed the doctor to take him a little to one side. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I assume I’m speaking to you as her partner and not her employer?’

It didn’t even occur to Leo to deny it and he gave a tight nod. ‘Yes.’

‘Well, it will be for the hospital to confirm but it appears that she could possibly be miscarrying.’

‘What? She can’t be… You’re saying she’spregnant? Now?’

The doctor raised his bushy brows. ‘Yes. Miss Sinclair didn’t realise it either but, from our conversation, I would suggest it’s still very early. It’s not unusual at this stage but, given her history…’

‘But that was nine years ago…and yes,’ he added fiercely. ‘That was mine too. Is she in danger?’

‘I’ll be much happier if she’s in hospital.’

The blood drained from Leo’s face. ‘The baby?’

‘I’m afraid I couldn’t get a heartbeat, but that’s not diagnostic; the hospital has much better equipment than my stethoscope. The air ambulance should be here directly.’

Leo usually prided himself on being the master of his emotions, but appearing supportive and not scared out of his mind was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

He took a deep breath and squatted down beside the prone figure who was covered in about ten coats. He glanced at the young girl beside Amy and nodded his thanks.

She smiled back. ‘Chef, shall I…?’

‘You go—and thanks, Jamie.’

After Jamie left, Leo took Amy’s hand.