Part 71

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With the phone in his hand he looked at her, and started to speak on the phone "You..." but he heard the dial tone. Obviously call had ended. "What did they say?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Drink fluids. Stay hydrated. Stay home." She told him the truth and shuffled back and closed her eyes. "Thank you. Now please leave." She was going to have a nap. She just needed the awful contractions to stop.

He put his phone in his back pocket, and said bluntly, "You've got to be joking."

She opened her eyes and blinked. She simmered and waited, because glaring at him through a wince did not elicit the right response from him. So she said, "No. I am not joking." She huffed only to grimace again. She closed her eyes. He waited. When she opened her eyes, she found him watching her, she attempted another glare. "I'm serious. Thank you for bringing me to my bed." She was ready to scream in frustration as she realised that he was in a better position in her current situation: a, he was healthy, and b, she was exhausted. She felt a total washout as the adrenalin rush abandoned her like a receding tide.

"What exactly did they ask you?" He kept his tone deliberately neutral. The woman was more stubborn than expected.

"Not your business." She mumbled, and again, flinched when she registered the next spasm. She frowned as she wished once more that she'd stayed in bed today: She would not answer the door, he would not be here, and see her condition, and she could stay in bed and sleep without an unwanted audience.

He smiled, somewhat obnoxiously, she thought. Gray reached for his mobile, and opened the screen with the list of his recent calls, and he pressed the first line.

She closed her eyes as she recalled the last few minutes. She opened her eyes, when she heard his phone ping, "What are you doing?" Regan muttered.

He savoured his comment. "Phoning the doctor." Their eyes met and clashed

Taking a deep breath, and fighting hard to keep any trace of the shudders reflected in her voice, she grated, "Why?" She was absolutely livid but her situation, the twinges, the contractions, the cramps, the pain were not helping.

He snorted derisively, ran a hand through his hair. "I asked you. Of course, I can waste my time and yours," He audaciously gave her a quick flagrant top to toe survey, " or get the answers directly from them." He waited, again, waiting for them to pick up the call.

She said somewhat sheepishly and hoped the receptionist was busy. "I told you." She took a deep calming breath. "Drink fluids." She tilted her head to look up into his face, so that he could see the sincerity in her face and try to pacify him, "Stay hydrated. Stay home." But she was half tempted to tell Gray to go jump!

He smiled. She glared. "Yes, you told me that, but you didn't tell them you have a fever." He glanced at her. "I was here. You definitely did not tell them that. You barely told them anything. How the hell do you expect them to reach a conclusion? You should have told them about the fever."

"I don't have a fever." She snapped, but the contractions had her gasping. And the fact her forehead was damp with perspiration.

"Your forehead is hot. And did not tell them about these spasms." His phone call was answered.

"Hello, Gray here. I am with Dr Calhoun," Pause. "Yes, Regan." He provided a summary of the previous call, "And you spoke with Regan a few minutes ago and you passed her to the doctor and she had a chat with a doctor." Paused. "Yes. But any chance of a home visit by the doctor?" Paused. "No. She has not drunk any water." She scowled at Gray. "Yes. Obviously. I will." He took that moment to look her over. He paused as he listened to the voice at the end of the line. "Yes. She is in bed." The temerity of the man, Regan glared. "Yes, but she did not reveal she has a temperature." Paused. "Great. If you could pass me on." Paused. He kept the phone on.

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