Liz moved to her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. With her face lifted, she cooed, “I believe you. I can tell you’re upset. I’m sorry. It’s just that after I saw that picture of the two of you holding hands—well, I guess I needed to know.”

“You saw the picture? How?”

“Amber showed it to me.” She lifted herself on her knees, kissed his lips, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her breasts against his hard chest. “I believe you. If you say it’s over—it’s over.” She moved slightly away to look into his eyes. “Oh, please don’t tell Amber that you know I saw the picture. She just wanted me to be sure that I knew everything—so that I could make an informed decision.”

Her grin widened as she pulled Harry back down on the bed. When his head hit the pillow, she leaned over him. The warmth of her flattened breasts covered his wide chest as their skin united. Liz continued, “She told me not to tell you.” Her words came between butterfly kisses to Harry’s cheek and neck. “I probably shouldn’t have”—“but Agent Baldwin”—“now that I know”—“my decision is informed”—“and”—“I don’t want”—“to let you go”—“again!”

Harry flipped Liz onto her back. Before he could speak, she begged, “Please, Agent, can you show me how much you’ll miss me? Please?”

Harry couldn’t resist her begging—her flushed cheeks—her trusting gaze—or her disheveled hair. It was more than he could take. Any thought unrelated to becoming one, with the woman below him, momentarily slipped away.

Focus on things you can control.

—John Wooden

“Monsieur?”

Tony pulled his gaze away from Claire and looked toward Madeline. In her arms, she held a stack of towels and sheets.

“We need to clean her and cool her.”

Tony nodded and reached for a wash cloth. After going to the bathroom and saturating it with cool water, he folded it in thirds and gently placed it on Claire’s forehead. His soft tone resonated through their suddenly cavernous suite, “I know you haven’t been sleeping well.” Thunder shook the house. Tony continued, unfazed, “If you need to sleep now, it’s all right, but pretty soon, our little one will be here. He or she needs their mommy.” Tony fought the emotion boiling in his throat. “Claire, I need you. With you I’m someone I’m proud to be. P—please—don’t leave me.”

The pressure of someone’s hand fell on Tony’s shoulder. He was on the edge of a dark abyss. Fear pulled at him, inciting emotions he couldn’t control. Anthony Rawlings controlled everything and everyone. The sudden impotence filled his world with red. Other than Claire, he was surrounded by employees. Didn’t these people know anything? They didn’t address him without a title, and they didn’t touch him! Tony inhaled and looked toward the touch. His gaze met Madeline’s as she smiled a sad smile. Instantaneously, the red faded. Tony covered Madeline’s hand and relished her support.

Madeline said, “Monsieur, Madame el, she’s not gone—she’s resting. The island cure I gave her is helping her. She needs her strength for your baby. We must make her comfortable.”

Tony didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to do. It was an uneasy situation under normal circumstances. With Claire’s life on the line, Tony felt completely helpless. Swallowing his pride, he asked, “H—how can we make her comfortable?”

Madeline explained her plan. Once Tony approved, she put it into motion. First, she instructed Francis and Phil to carry a chaise lounge in from the lanai. Rain covered the floor when they opened the door and brought the long lounge into the bedroom. Madeline immediately dried the moisture from the floor and from the lounge cushions; then she proceeded to cover the chair in towels and sheets.

Phil and Francis went back to the hall and kept silent vigil, while Madeline and Tony removed Claire’s wet clothes. They cleaned, rinsed, and dried her with cloths and towels from the bathroom. Once she was dry, Tony gently lifted her to the lounge chair where they dressed her in a nightgown and covered her shivering body with a clean sheet. The chase lounge was much lower than a normal bed; however, since the mattress of their bed was saturated, it gave her a clean place to lie.

No longer did station matter. Madeline was no longer house staff or an employee—Tony willingly submitted to her control of the situation. If she told him to jump, it would be he who asked, how high? For the first time in his memory, Tony didn’t want power. He knew nothing about giving birth. Without a doctor, Madeline was their best bet. She was the dealer—she controlled the deck and had his full respect and attention.