SWEET DREAMS, FRAGILE HEARTS
Chapter 53—Winter Ball

A/N: This chapter is rated M.

"You're doing it again," Gabriella sighed.

From the driver's seat, Troy glanced at her. "Doing what?"

"Worrying."

"How do you know I'm not just thinking about something else? Like last night?" He winked, though he doubted she could see it in the car's dark interior. They were on the way back to San Francisco from Albuquerque, and while he'd thought Gabriella was sleeping, she'd apparently been watching him.

"If you're thinking about last night and making faces like that, I'd have to be offended." She reached over and traced his jaw with her finger. "You have a tic in your jaw when you're angry or upset, or worrying. Since I know you're not angry or upset, all that's left is worrying."

"How's your head?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject—an attempt that failed because her headaches were the subject of his worrying.

She leaned her head back against the headrest. "It still hurts, but it's fine. I always get headaches when I go to Albuquerque, because of the change in altitude. You know that."

"It's not just the headaches, though," he pointed out. "Your feet are swollen, and your blood pressure is up. I don't like that combination of symptoms."

"My feet are swollen because I've been sitting in the car for almost twelve hours," she explained calmly. "And after everything that happened this weekend, including last night, it's not all that surprising that my blood pressure is a little high."

"Sex shouldn't increase your blood pressure," Troy argued. "During sex, yes, your blood pressure increases, but afterwards you should be relaxed."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Maybe we should've checked your blood pressure last night. I have a feeling that it took a while for your heart to stop racing after everything we did." They'd had a lot of sex the night before. Taking advantage of Jack and Lucille's absence, they'd been all over the house—the living room, kitchen, staircase, and shower. He had carried her from place to place, sometimes without even removing himself from her body. When Gabriella's phone had chirped with a message from Maria, warning them that Troy's parents were on the way home, he'd taken her to bed to finish. She hadn't just been relaxed; she'd felt worn out, well-used, and very satisfied.

"My blood pressure is normal," he told her. "You're pregnant, you had an insanely busy weekend, and you found out that your grandmother is terminally ill. None of those things are very conducive to stress management."

Gabriella was grateful that, in the darkness of the car, Troy couldn't see her roll her eyes.

"You worry too much. Yes, my head hurts and I'm tired, but I'm fine." She pointed to a sign that announced the gas stations, hotels, and restaurants that were available at the next exit. "Actually, I could use a restroom, a snack, and a chance to stretch my legs."

Troy hesitated, wondering if he should press the issue about whether she was as 'fine' as she claimed she was. Finally giving up, at least for the moment, he sighed, signaled and exited the highway.

...~«ώ»~...

"Troy? Is that you?"

He chuckled as he set down his briefcase and dropped his keys on the table. After a quick search, he found her in the spare bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, surrounded by baby clothing. "Were you expecting someone else?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb with a grin.

"Well, it could've been one of my secret lovers." She tapped her fingertips on her lips thoughtfully. "Let's see, today's Wednesday, which means that Paul should be here any minute."

"Is that so?" Troy played along. "I hope he's ready for a fight, because I'm a selfish guy. I don't like sharing my woman."

She pretended to consider that. "Do you think you can take him?"

Troy pushed off the doorjamb and flexed his biceps. Gabriella breathed silent thanks that he was wearing a short sleeve shirt. His arm muscles were fantastic on their own, but his flexing also pulled the cotton material taut against his pecs, which were equally magnificent. She pushed herself up off the bed and came to stand in front of him. Then she traced a finger along the thick vein that snaked down his arm and released a long sigh. He chuckled and relaxed his muscles.

"I know that sigh," he murmured, stroking his thumb across her cheek. "That's a 'dinner's going to have to wait awhile' sigh."

A soft moan escaped from her lips, and he cupped her face with his hands as he leaned down to kiss her. She threaded her arms around his waist and slipped her fingers under the hem of his shirt. Far too soon for her liking, he pulled back to look at her anxiously.

"It looks like you have some swelling in your face."

Gabriella's eyes widened, and she took a step back, dropping her arms to her sides. "Wow, you really know how to kill the mood. Maybe you should dump a bucket of cold water over my head while you're at it."

He took her hands and tilted his head, still studying her. "I'm sorry, babe, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I'm just concerned. You shouldn't have this much swelling at this stage of your pregnancy."

"The book said that swelling is normal in the third trimester," she reminded him.

"That may be, but I want to check your blood pressure, just for my own peace of mind. Then we can pick up where we left off."

She rolled her eyes. "If I tell you I'm out of the mood, will you quit harping about my health?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I'm trying to track your symptoms so I can discuss them with Dr. Grant at our appointment next week."

"Fine, Doctor," she huffed. "Let's get it over with."

As he turned to follow her, puzzled by her abrupt mood change, he noticed the step-stool set up in front of the closet. "Wait," he instructed. She turned back to face him. "Were you up on the step-stool?"

"Yes, I was," she answered defiantly. "I'm 5 foot 2. I can't reach the top shelf without it. It's only three steps, and as you can see, I survived."

Troy took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to control his irritation. He realized that the box of baby clothes that she'd laid out on the bed had come from the closet shelf. "Gabriella. I've told you that you shouldn't be climbing or lifting things. It's an unnecessary risk."

She planted her hands on her hips. "I climbed up to the tree house in Albuquerque, so I figured I could handle three steps. And I lifted Eli—he's definitely heavier than that box. So stop overreacting and leave me alone."

She turned and left the room, and after grabbing his blood pressure cuff and stethoscope from their bedroom, he followed her into the kitchen. By the time he arrived, she was pulling ingredients out of the fridge to start dinner. He put his hands on her upper arms, turned her to face him, and waited until she looked up at him.

"I can't stop worrying about you, honey," he told her gently. "And I love you way too much to leave you alone when I see something that could hurt you or the baby. I'm just trying to take care of you the best way I know how."

"I get that," she answered. "But you need a little work on your beside manner. Telling me that my face looks fat, when I already feel huge and dumpy, is not a confidence-builder."

"I never said your face or any other part of you is fat," he argued. "You're not only the most beautiful pregnant woman I've ever seen, but you're hands-down the most beautiful woman I know, period. Even if you gained 200 pounds, it wouldn't matter to me." He reached out to stroke her belly. "I happen to think that having a man's baby is one of the sexiest things a woman can do."

Gabriella's shoulders relaxed. "Thank you. I'm sorry for getting upset with you." She turned back to the counter so he couldn't see the smile that quirked her lips. "What was I thinking, marrying a doctor?" she philosophized.

"You were thinking, 'Damn, that man looks hot in a stethoscope!'"

She turned to see him striking modeling poses with his stethoscope around his neck like a feather boa. He looked ridiculous, and she couldn't hold back her laughter.

"Actually, I've always had a thing for guys with lab coats," she teased.

"I'll make a deal with you," he offered, approaching and taking hold of her hips. "Let me take your blood pressure, and then I'll put on my lab coat and give you a head-to-toe examination."

"I'm feeling a little weak in the knees, Doctor," she replied. "I hope your exam is very thorough."

"Anything for my favorite patient. Anything."

...~«ώ»~...

Troy sat down his tray and did a quick scan of the hospital cafeteria.

"No Mark?" he asked Kelly.

"He's in surgery," she answered before biting into her sandwich.

"He must be thrilled to be back at work."

"No, I'm thrilled that he's back to work," she corrected. "He's been driving me absolutely nuts at home."

Troy chuckled. "Dr. Overman said he'll probably only need a couple more weeks of physical therapy."

Kelly shook her head. "He doesn't even think he needs that long. If he hadn't had to do therapy to get clearance to return to work, I guarantee you he would've quit three weeks ago."

"He just started three weeks ago," he pointed out.

"Exactly." She laid down her sandwich and brushed the crumbs off her fingers to take a drink. "How's Gabi doing? Is she looking forward to the hospital ball Saturday night?"

"I guess so. She's been really tired and stressed this week, and she didn't appreciate it when I pointed out the swelling in her face last night."

"Ouch. That wasn't very nice."

He frowned. "I didn't say it to be mean. I was telling her that I was concerned about the amount of swelling that she's developed this week—her feet, her hands, and now her face. It was strictly a medical observation."

Kelly set down her sandwich again and stared at him as if he had three heads. "Troy, has Gabi ever gained weight?"

His eyebrows creased. "What time frame are you talking about? Birth to now? Yeah, she's put on a few pounds since then."

"Don't be a smartass. Let's say from when she started college."

"Gabriella has always been small," he answered easily.

"Always… until she got pregnant."

"Well, yeah, but that's not fat, it's baby." He looked at her quizzically.

Kelly shook her head. "I've always thought you were a pretty sensitive guy, Troy, but in this case, you're as dense as Mark. Gabriella has gained—what, about 15 pounds so far? And it's all in her abdomen. She feels huge and disproportionate, even though she looks great. Most people would guess her at four or five months along, but definitely not seven."

"I agree," Troy interrupted. "I tell her all the time how great she looks."

"Except when you told her that her face looked swollen," she insisted.

"It was a medical observation," he repeated. "I don't see what the big deal is. She was fine once I told her what I meant."

Kelly swiped her napkin across her lips and shook her head in defeat. Men. "When is her next appointment with Dr. Grant?"

"Monday," he answered. "I've been tracking her vitals since Albuquerque. That's when I first noticed the swelling in her feet, and her blood pressure has been creeping up."

"Do you think it's stress?" she asked. "Maybe the fight with her mom, and then the news of her grandmother's illness, bothered her more than she's letting on."

"Maybe," he agreed. "Maria's been calling with updates, but I know it bothers Gabriella that she can't go see her grandmother."

"How are things with Maria? You said things were better, but you said that the last time she was here for a visit too. How is it different this time?"

"After her visit in August, she's worked on the relationship with Gabriella, but she still wasn't very happy with me. Now, I think, she's trying harder with both of us. And maybe her mother's illness is finally making her realize the importance of family."

"That's good." Kelly checked her watch and winced. "I've got to go. Tell Gabi hi for me."

"I will," he promised. "Thanks for setting up the spa appointment with her on Saturday. Maybe all that primping and pampering will help her feel better."

"Fingers crossed. See you later."

"Bye."

...~«ώ»~...

Gabriella took Troy's outstretched hand and allowed him to help her out of the car. Once she was on her feet, Troy took her hand and led her toward the entrance of the Regency Center. The building housed the Regency Grand Ballroom, where the UCSF Medical Center Winter Ball was held. The annual event was for UCSF employees to raise money for the Children's Hospital. The historic building featured marble floors, high ceilings, elaborate chandeliers, and a hardwood dance floor.

Once inside the Rotunda, Troy left to pick up their tickets, and Gabriella looked up at the dome ceiling. It never ceased to amaze her, even though it was the third time that she and Troy had attended the event. Her attention, though, soon shifted to Troy, who was chatting with one of his colleagues as they waited in the ticket line. He looked suave and handsome in his black suit, and she blushed when he caught her eye and winked at her.

"Gabi!"

Gabriella turned to see Kelly and Mark approaching and gave them a little wave.

"Hey, guys! How are you feeling, Mark?"

"Never better," he grinned charmingly.

Kelly snorted. "Good, that means I don't have to wait on you anymore!"

"Well, actually, my ribs are still a little sore… I don't know if I'll be able to dance tonight."

"Oh, you will be dancing, even if I have to drag you onto the dance floor." She gestured at her slinky purple dress. "I did not buy this dress to sit on the sidelines all evening."

Mark glanced over Gabriella's shoulder. "Troy, back me up here. My wife's more concerned with her dress than my health and well-being."

Troy came up beside his wife and slipped his arm around her waist. "It is a nice dress…"

"Bolton, you suck," Mark scowled as he walked away to pick up his tickets.

"And what do you think of Gabi's dress, Troy?" Kelly prompted.

"I think that I'm here with the prettiest girl in the building," he answered, smiling down at Gabriella. "No offense to you, of course, Mrs. Davis."

"None taken," Kelly answered cheerfully. "In fact, I think I have to agree with you!"

Gabriella wore a long emerald green dress with an empire waist that cinched just below her breasts with three fabric flowers and a ribbon that embellished the pin-tucked bodice. The satin gown had a sheer overlay, and because her larger-than-usual breasts could actually support it, it was strapless. She'd curled her hair and let it flow freely down her back, leaving her shoulders bare for Troy's tender touch.

"Stop it, you two," Gabriella scolded, running her hand over the material covering her belly. "You don't have to exaggerate to stroke my ego. I know what I look like."

Troy turned her and held her upper arms to look her in the eye. "You look gorgeous, hot, sexy, and beautiful. If you have any other adjectives floating around in your head, get rid of them, because they're not true. I want to walk in there and let everybody see that you're pregnant with my baby."

"Oh, geez," Mark put in as he rejoined them. "Troy's doing his caveman chest-beating thing again."

Gabriella frowned. "What?"

"It's a man thing," Kelly told her as she linked arms with her friend and walked toward the ballroom. "You know, spreading his seed, knocking up his woman… it's part of proving his manhood to everyone around him."

Gabriella glanced back at the guys, who were following a few steps behind them. "Cavemen, huh?"

"Hey, we dress way better than cavemen," Troy argued.

"And we dance better, too," Mark added.

"Oh, yeah?" Kelly challenged. "Let's go then, macho man. It's time to put your money where your mouth is."

As she pulled her husband onto the dance floor, Troy waved at him mockingly. Gabriella smacked his backside with her handbag.

"Behave," she whispered.

"I will, for now," he countered quietly. "But when we get home tonight, I fully intend to misbehave."

"Good," she purred in response. "Because I fully intend to let you."

...~«ώ»~...

Caveman tendencies aside, Troy was unmistakably proud of his impending fatherhood as he escorted Gabriella to their table, stopping often along the way to chat with his colleagues and show her off. The more he talked to others about her pregnancy, the more confident she became. It also helped that he maintained constant contact with her body—holding her hand, caressing her shoulders, pulling her back to rest against his chest. When they finally made it to the dance floor, his arms slid around her possessively and he pulled her close as they began to sway. He'd splashed on the aftershave she loved, and she rested her head on his chest and breathed him in.

Troy, for his part, was enjoying the precious time with Gabriella. He realized that in only a few months, he would no longer have her all to himself, so he was determined to make the most of their time together. He could feel her body relaxing already, beginning to release the tension that had lived in her muscles for the past week. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, inhaling the unique flowery/spicy combination that he could never quite identify, except that it was her scent.

"I can't remember the last time I've seen you in a strapless dress," he murmured. "It looks amazing on you."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I don't usually have enough on top to keep a strapless dress from pooling at my ankles."

"That's a picture you shouldn't put in my head when we're in public," he told her. "And your breasts are perfect. They fit right in the palms of my hands…"

His hand lifted from her waist and crept upwards, but she grabbed it and put it back where it belonged.

"Don't you dare," she hissed.

He chuckled. "Has impending motherhood turned you into a prude, Mrs. Bolton?"

"It's not that. I just know better than to encourage you in a public setting. First I let you touch my breast, and the next thing you know, we're in a dark corner with your hand up my dress."

Troy was so stunned that he pulled back to look at her. "When has that ever happened?"

"Remember the time when Mark dragged us to that grunge club because he was dating that weird hippie girl who played the bongos? What was her name? Sage? Saffron?" She snapped her fingers. "Sandrine! Anyway, we ended up in that corner booth…"

"Oh, yeah," he grinned cockily. "But that shouldn't count. Our sexual relationship was still pretty new at that point, and as I recall, we were both kind of hot and heavy then."

"I was not!" she argued. "You were the one with the roaming hands, not me."

"Oh, really? That's funny, because I'm pretty sure my hand was up your dress that night because you told me that you weren't wearing panties."

Gabriella blushed and looked down. He leaned in close to her ear.

"Tell me, baby… Are you wearing panties now?"

Her eyes lifted again in mock indignation. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

He pulled her hips forward, so that her belly pressed against his groin. She could feel his erection, big and hard, through his trousers, and her breath caught. He chuckled against her ear and then nipped the shell.

"The kind of girl that still makes me so horny, I can't see straight."

She smiled and subtly pushed her hips forward to grind against him. "Some things never change."

...~«ώ»~...

As the evening wore on, Troy could tell that Gabriella was getting tired, so he led her to the table where Dr. Overman and his wife were seated. Two women who worked at the sports medicine clinic also sat there. Troy pulled out Gabriella's chair, sat next to her, and slid his arm around her as he made introductions around the table.

Dr. Overman's wife, Sharon, smiled at the younger couple. "Gabriella, I'm impressed by your stamina on the dance floor."

"Troy's a good dance partner," she answered. "I don't have to do much more than lean on him."

Troy waved off the compliment. "We've been dancing together since high school. By now it comes pretty naturally." He focused on his wife. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Water is fine," she replied gratefully.

Troy stood and looked around the table. "Can I get a drink for anyone else?"

The ladies shook their heads, but Dr. Overman pushed out his chair and stood. "I'll go with you, Troy. I could use a little something from the bar."

Before he turned to leave, Troy squeezed Gabriella's shoulder. When she looked up at him, he kissed her forehead and winked.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart."

As soon as the men left, Amanda, one of the women from the clinic, leaned forward. "When is your baby due?"

"February," Gabriella answered.

"And how long have you and Dr. Bolton been married?" the other woman, Katrina, asked.

"Four years. But it's been almost twelve years since we first met."

Amanda's eyes widened. "He still treats you like a queen after twelve years? My husband barely acknowledged my existence after twelve months!"

"Yeah, but you had a baby before your first anniversary," Katrina pointed out. "Once your first kid is born, everything changes."

Gabriella frowned. "How so?"

"Well, it's not just the two of you anymore," Katrina explained. "Before the baby, you talk about adult things—your careers, common interests, and your relationship. After the baby, it's more like, 'Honey, she pooped again. It's your turn to change her.' 'No, I changed her last. It's your turn.'"

"And enjoy his attentiveness while you still can," Amanda continued. "Once the baby's born, all his attention will be focused on his child."

"Girls, you're scaring poor Gabriella," Sharon Overman inserted, reaching over to pat her hand. "It's not nearly as bad as they make it sound."

"How many kids do you have?" Gabriella asked.

"Four," she replied. "Our youngest just turned thirteen."

"I have two," Amanda added. "I'd introduce you to my husband, but I haven't seen him in…" She checked her watch. "…forty minutes. Our kids are four and two, and we don't get many opportunities to go out by ourselves, so he takes full advantage when he gets the chance."

"Doesn't it bother you that he's not spending time with you?"

"Let's see, getting my toes stepped on out on the dance floor, or sitting here drinking tequila with my friends. It's a tough choice. NOT!" The younger women laughed and clinked their glasses together.

"What about you?" Gabriella asked Katrina. "Kids?"

"Two," she answered. "My husband left three months after our son was born. It seems his secretary was nicer to look at than me with my big belly and leaky boobs. The joke was on him, though—she got pregnant too, so now he's paying child support for three!"

She high-fived Amanda, as if being left by her husband was something to celebrate. Gabriella was dumbfounded.

"Don't let them bother you," Sharon consoled her. "Of course things will change between you and Troy when your baby is born, but it's like moving to a new phase in your relationship. Growing up, so to speak. You'll find that you worry about things like whether your kids need braces, or how you're going to pay for their college tuition, rather than whether your husband opens the car door for you."

"Or what he does late at night on the computer when everyone else in the house is in bed," Amanda added.

Gabriella swallowed hard. Of course she knew things would change when the baby came, but she couldn't bear the thought that her relationship with Troy might suffer as a result. She couldn't listen to their banter anymore. Pushing her chair out, she stood.

"I'm, uh… I need to use the ladies' room," she announced. Sharon gave her a little wave, and she picked up her handbag and escaped.

She noticed that her hands were shaking as she wove her way through the maze of tables. As she neared the back hallway that led to the restrooms, she spotted Mark and Kelly leaving the dance floor.

"Hey, Gabi," Kelly greeted her cheerfully. "Are you having fun?"

Gabriella forced a smile. "Yeah. I'm, um… going to the ladies' room." Kelly knew her friend well enough to recognize that something was not right.

"I'll go with you," she replied, linking her arm through her friend's.

"Hey, where's Troy?" Mark asked as the women turned.

"He went to get me a drink," Gabriella answered. "Mark, could you… could you catch him before he goes back to the table where we were sitting? I don't really want to go back there."

Mark's face softened, and he squeezed Gabriella's arm reassuringly. "You bet. We'll wait for you ladies to come back and then find a table of our own."

Gabriella nodded gratefully and allowed Kelly to lead her to the restroom.

...~«ώ»~...

"Hey, Bolton," Mark called as he jogged to catch up with Troy. He and Dr. Overman were already on their way back to their table, but he turned to locate his friend.

"Hi, Dr. Overman," Mark continued before turning to Troy. "Hey, Kelly and I have a table over there." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder. "Come on. Gabriella's already there."

Troy glanced around nervously, afraid to offend his mentor by leaving his table so abruptly.

"Uh, Dr. O., if you'll excuse us for a few minutes, we'll be back…"

Dr. Overman waved him away. "Not a problem. Sharon and I will probably be leaving soon anyway. We don't have nearly as much energy in our 40s as we did in our 20s. See you Monday."

Troy watched the older man return to his table before turning back to whack Mark's arm. "Dude, what the hell? I was trying to schmooze with my boss, and you had to interrupt."

Mark rolled his eyes. "It's a social event, Bolton. Schmooze with your boss at work, not when you've got a pregnant wife who, at the moment, doesn't seem to be having much fun."

Troy turned in a circle, searching the crowd. "Where is she? What's going on? She was fine when I left her."

Mark took Troy's arm and led him toward the back hallway. "She's in the restroom with Kelly. I told her we'd be waiting when they came out."

The men went to stand at the junction where the hallway opened into the ballroom. That placed them next to the stage, so most of the sounds from the party were drowned out by the live band that was performing. Troy thought he heard someone shout, but decided it must be a drunken reveler enjoying the fast-tempo Latin song that the band was playing. Then, several things happened almost simultaneously. A tray of glasses shattered on the hardwood floor. A security guard emerged from the hallway and headed for the main entrance. A woman screamed. And Mark pointed at a man who was climbing over tables, sending glass and plates flying as he tried to evade two security officers.

"What the hell is going on?" Mark asked loudly. "Who is that guy? Thief? Party crasher?"

The man was moving closer to them, somehow managing to stay ahead of the security men. Troy squinted in the dark room. The man seemed familiar… And then it clicked. "Son of a…" He grabbed Mark's arm. "That's Carl Rogers."

"Shit," Mark replied.

The two men instantly sprang into action, moving toward the ruckus to head Carl off before he escaped down the back hallway. The noise grew, with partygoers yelling as their tables were upended, until it became impossible for Troy and Mark to hear one another. Mark pointed to his left and Troy nodded, pointing to the right. They moved in, hoping to trap Carl between them and the security officers. As they neared him, though, Carl flipped a table to block Mark and shoved Troy out of his way. Troy tried to grab his arm, but he was knocked off balance and couldn't hold on. Mark let loose a string of profanities as he chased Carl in the direction of the hallway. Troy righted himself and followed. Just as they reached the opening to the hallway, the restroom door opened. Troy's heart dropped to his feet as Kelly emerged, followed by Gabriella a moment later.

"Watch out!" he yelled, but it was way too late. There was nothing he could do but watch in horror as Carl Rogers slammed full-force into Kelly and Gabriella. Time seemed to move in slow motion as all three of them crashed to the floor. Mark, several steps behind, jumped and twisted awkwardly, trying to avoid the tangled pile of limbs. He succeeded, but lost his balance and wiped out a few feet away.

"Gabriella!" Troy yelled when time began to move again. She and Kelly were sprawled on the floor. The only movement was from… Damn it! Carl was scrambling to his feet. Troy surged forward, intent on giving the man a long-overdue beating, but Carl had only taken a few steps before Mark's arms were around his leg, pulling him down. He hit the floor face-first, and an instant later, Troy was on top of him, wrenching his arms behind his back. Carl howled with pain, which only encouraged Troy to push his arms farther forward. He would've immensely enjoyed breaking the man's elbows, but he was pulled off by a security officer who slapped handcuffs onto Carl's wrists.

Troy and Mark crawled over to where the women lay. Gabriella was lying on her right side, her legs curled up under her dress. Troy noticed one of her shoes against the wall several feet away. Kelly was on her stomach with one arm flung across Gabriella. Mark carefully turned her over.

"Kel? Are you okay?" He smoothed back her hair and swore. She'd gotten hit on the left side of her face, and Mark gently pulled her hand away so he could get a better look. A bruise was already forming, and he traced the line of her cheekbone and around her eye socket to check for obvious breaks. "You're going to have one hell of a shiner tomorrow."

Meanwhile, Troy helped Gabriella sit up and then sucked in a breath when he saw blood on her face.

"Sweetie, did you hit your head?"

"I think it's my nose," she answered softly. He pulled the pocket square out of his suit jacket and handed it to her. He circled around behind her so that she could lean on him, and he made sure she was pinching the pressure point on her nose before his hands dropped to check the rest of her body. "Where else does it hurt? Did you fall on your stomach? Are you having pain or contractions?"

"No," Gabriella answered. "I fell on my side." She touched her hip and winced.

"I… I think I elbowed you," Kelly admitted. "Troy, I might have elbowed the side of her belly. I didn't mean to, but… you should check it…"

She tried to sit up, but Mark stopped her, guiding her instead to rest her head on his thigh. "It's okay, hon. It was an accident." He was still subtly running his hands over her body, checking for other injuries. She bit out a curse when he squeezed her left wrist, but otherwise she seemed to be okay.

"Gabi, are you okay?" She tried to lift her head, but Mark kept her still.

"I think so," Gabriella answered. "You?"

"Is there a doctor in the house?" she quipped.

"A few hundred," Mark grinned. "Any specialty you could possibly need."

Their attention was momentarily drawn back to Carl, who had just been hefted to his feet by the officers.

"Please," he pleaded with them. "I just need to talk to the hospital director. I didn't come here to make trouble. Please! He won't take my phone calls. I have to convince him to let me back into the residency program!" He noticed the two couples watching him. "Bolton! Davis! Please, talk to the director! Tell him I didn't deserve to get kicked out of the program."

"The hell you didn't," Troy growled. "You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Carl hung his head as the officers led him away, and Mark squeezed Kelly's arm. "Are you ready to get up?"

She glanced over at the large crowd that had gathered at the end of the hallway. Fortunately, more security guards were keeping them at bay.

"Yeah, I think so."

Mark stood first and ignored her outstretched hand, moving behind her and hefting her up with his hands under her arms. Once standing, she adjusted her dress and stood impatiently while Mark tipped her head back and took another look at her eye.

"People are going to think I beat you," he teased, cupping her jaw in the palm of his hand.

"Nah, I'll just tell them that I was in a bar brawl," Kelly answered with a smile.

"I'm glad you're okay," he told her tenderly, leaning in to give her a careful kiss.

Troy checked to make sure Gabriella's nosebleed had stopped, and then lifted her to her feet. She didn't realize until she put weight on her foot that she'd twisted her ankle. She leaned into Troy and nodded gratefully when one of the onlookers slid a chair in their direction.

"Let me take a look," he instructed. She lifted her foot into his lap, and he frowned.

"There's a lot of swelling."

"My ankles were already swollen," she reminded him. "And that was before we danced for an hour or so."

"I think we should go to the ER and get you checked out. Make sure the baby's okay."

"Troy, I'm all right. The baby is surrounded by amniotic fluid. That was probably not much more than a speed bump for it."

"Maybe he's right, Gabi," Kelly said. "You could have a placental abruption…"

"Wouldn't I have abdominal pain if that was case?" Gabriella challenged.

"Yeah, but there's always preterm labor," Mark added. "Or you could start leaking amniotic fluid…"

Gabriella stood, with help, and planted her fists on her hips. "I am not discussing my amniotic fluid with you, Mark Davis. You're not an obstetrician, are you?"

"Sweetie, I don't think…" Troy began.

"I am not going to be outvoted just because I'm the only one here without a medical degree. I am not cramping, or leaking, and everything feels fine. Troy, you always tell me to trust my instincts. Well, my instincts say that I want to go home."

They all stood silent for a few moments, and finally Troy nodded his assent.

"Do you need me to carry you?" Troy asked.

"I can walk."

"Call me if, uh… if anything comes up," Mark told them.

"I'm sorry, Gabi," Kelly told her gently. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

Gabriella nodded, and with a quick wave to Mark, she took Troy's arm and headed for the exit.

...~«ώ»~...

Gabriella felt like she'd been run over by a freight train. As the shock and adrenaline wore off, she became more aware of how many parts of her body hurt. She didn't need immediate medical attention, but she would definitely be sore the next day. She put her hand on her belly, silently willing the baby to move. She knew that she hadn't fallen on her abdomen—she'd instinctively rolled to protect it, which was why her hip was throbbing. The evening had been an emotional roller coaster—wonderful when she'd danced with Troy, not so good when those women had extolled the perils of having children, and terrible when she'd been knocked down. Even worse, her friends had taken Troy's side, ganging up on her about going to the ER. She was a grown woman! Why did she have to try so hard to get people to believe that?

She leaned her head against the headrest, trying to block out the streetlights and the memories. The next thing she knew, Troy's hand was on her arm, shaking her gently.

"Gabriella? We're home."

She allowed him to help her out of the car and into the house, and then made her way to the bedroom while he headed for the kitchen. Once there, she reached for the zipper on the back of her dress, and winced when her twisting motion made her aware of another sore spot. She tried again, with the other hand this time, but that hurt too. Before she could reach back for a third time, Troy's warm hands settled on her shoulders.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked carefully. "I'm sorry we upset you, but if you're feeling anything wrong—pain, cramps, spotting—then we need to get you checked out. I don't want to take any chances with your health, or the baby's."

"If I thought there was something wrong with the baby, we wouldn't be standing here," she answered tersely. Her foul mood was pointless, she realized, and she didn't want to ruin what had been, for the most part, a very nice evening. She met his eyes in the mirror over the dresser. "Thank you for tonight. Except for the last half hour or so, the ball was lovely."

"You were lovely," he murmured, his lips against her neck. "Gorgeous." He kissed her skin. "Exquisite." Another kiss. "Magnificently beautiful." His hands moved to her zipper, but instead of rasping it down as she expected him to, he slid it down slowly, inch by inch, pausing to kiss each ridge of vertebrae as he went. When the zipper reached its end just below her waist, he straightened purposely scraping his teeth along her spine on the way up. He didn't peel her dress off, but instead, slipped his arm around her waist, moved aside her hair, and lowered his head to kiss the soft skin on the side of her neck. He nipped it with his teeth, and then soothed it with a soft, sweet kiss.

"Troy," she sighed.

She felt his smile against her skin, and then he was kissing her again. She tilted her head, giving him more skin to taste.

"You like that, hmm?"

"You know I do," she answered. "You know all my secrets."

"Like this one?" He sucked lightly on the skin behind her ear and chuckled when a shiver rolled through her.

"Yes," she breathed.

"How about this?" He gripped her hips and turned her, and then lowered his head to kiss the hollow below her throat where her collarbones met.

She sighed contentedly.

Just as quickly as he'd turned her, he spun her again so she faced the mirror. His arms circled her waist again, and she held her breath as she watched his hands move up slowly, until they cupped her breasts. He kneaded and stroked them gently, and Gabriella leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder. His fingers slipped under the fabric, and a few moments later, her dress was sliding down her body, revealing her black lace bra. She stiffened and reached for the fabric when he began to pull it over her belly, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. He gave the dress a little yank, and then it was puddle at her feet. She looked away, but he touched her chin and turned it back to face the mirror. Then his hands slid down her body again to caress her abdomen.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "Absolutely beautiful."

She watched his hands moving over her belly, his wedding ring occasionally catching the light.

"You are wearing panties," he observed, as if he'd just solved a great mystery. "Why?"

Her eyebrows dipped. "Why what?"

"Why did you wear panties tonight?"

"So you could take them off of me."

"Smart girl." But he didn't take them off. He dipped his hand underneath and touched her intimately. "I love how wet you get for me. You want me inside you."

"Yes," she whispered.

"Not yet," he answered. "But soon."

He slid one hand behind her, and a moment later her bra tumbled off. Before she could react to that, her panties did a similar disappearing act. And then he began a sweet form of torture. In the mirror, she saw his hand return to her breast. He flicked and teased her nipple until it was red and rigid, and then moved to the other breast and did the same thing. She watched his other hand disappear between her legs and felt his fingers sliding through her folds. He stroked her relentlessly, and she was near the edge when he suddenly pulled back.

"Troy!"

"Patience, lover," he murmured as he eased her over to sit on the edge of the bed. He dropped to his knees in front of her. "Can you still see me, or at least my top half?" She glanced at the mirror and nodded. "Good. I want you to watch me go down on you."

Her insides contracted, and more wetness seeped out. "Yes." She stopped him, though, before he moved into position. "Without your shirt." He chuckled and made quick work of the buttons. He slid the dress shirt off, and she gave an appreciative sigh.

"Better?" he smiled. She nodded, and he moved into position. "Open for me, baby." She did as he asked, and he moved closer, his broad shoulders spreading her legs farther apart. He kissed the insides of her thighs, one at a time, and crept closer, closer, closer… She let out a cry as his lips suddenly closed over her and sucked hard. She grabbed his head to hold him there, afraid he would move away and leave her unfulfilled. But he didn't. His pace slowed, and he licked the length of her from bottom to top.

"I love the way you taste," he murmured. "Just for me." He slipped three fingers inside her. "This is how I'll make love to you tonight. Long and slow." He demonstrated with his fingers, sliding in and out of her at a maddeningly slow pace. His mouth settled on her again, and her fingers tunneled through his hair. Her hips thrust forward, wanting more, needing more. She watched the mirror, watched the ripple of his muscles and the sandy brown hair that moved between her legs. Her climax was coming, and she wanted it more than her next breath. He looked up at her, sensing that she was close, and with one final suck, she came apart. He stayed with her, sucking and fingering her to make it last. When the last ripple inside her faded, he kissed her folds once more and then sat back on his heels. She slid off the bed to her knees and reached for his belt buckle, intent on returning the favor, but he caught her hands and shook his head.

"I can't," he admitted. "Not tonight. I've been hard all night, dancing with you, seeing the way your body moves in that dress. If you touch me, it'll be over. And I'm not ready for it to be over. I want to be inside you."

"I want you there," she answered. "More than anything."

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You couldn't. Everything is fine. All I need is you."

He stood and dropped his pants, and the thing she wanted most bobbed in front of her, the blunt tip glistening with his arousal. She licked her lips eagerly, but he stepped back and offered his hand to help her up. As soon as she was on her feet, his mouth covered hers. He held her there for a few moments, kissing and touching her while his erection pressed against her belly. And then he began to back up, taking her with him. She vaguely wondered where they were going, and then found she didn't care as long as he got there fast. Fortunately, he only went as far as the chair in the corner of the bedroom. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"I want you," he whispered into her mouth.

"I'm yours."

She took hold of his penis and pumped him a few times, enjoying the slide of the soft skin that covered his hard shaft. He was magnificent. She rose up slightly and pressed his tip to her opening, swirling the moisture of their arousal together as if she was making a love potion. When she pulled her hand away, Troy lifted his hips to slide a couple inches in. And then he stopped.

"Troy?" she questioned.

"Slow," he grunted, his struggle to maintain control evident. "I want you to feel… every inch…"

"Mmm, yes," she moaned. Feeling the slow slide of his penis drove her wild, stimulating her both inside and out. Her muscles strained toward him, trying to draw him into her, but he resisted, pulling back before giving her more.

"This is… so good," he said hoarsely. "Feeling you stretch… You're so tight, baby. I can't stand how tight you are."

"It's because you're so big," she whispered in his ear. "That's why I have to open so wide for you."

His fingertips bit into her skin as he fought against the urge to pound into her. She scraped her teeth across the stubble on his jaw and smiled triumphantly when he pushed farther into her.

"I need more. Please," she begged. He crept in a little farther. Her body was screaming for release, and she leaned forward to catch his bottom lip between her teeth. His hips jerked reflexively and there he was, filling her to the hilt. "Yes!" she hissed. She swirled her hips, groaning as his thick shaft twisted inside her.

"Baby," he moaned, unable to keep from thrusting. She felt amazing.

She became restless on his lap, scooting, sliding, moving him around inside her, trying to find that perfect spot. His tip brushed against it, and she exploded. Her legs shook and she cried out again and again, her face buried in his chest. The waves of her orgasm shredded his control, and he took hold of her hips, lifted her up, and slammed her down on him. Again and again. He couldn't take it. He stood from the chair, spun her, and lowered her to her hands and knees on the floor. She lifted her backside in invitation, and he moved in behind her and took her. He allowed himself a few deep, powerful thrusts before he reached around to finger her clitoris. She whimpered at the overwhelming sensations, but her hips moved in time with his. He spread her legs wider, pulled out all the way, and then rammed in as hard as he dared. White light exploded in his vision, and endless spurts emptied from him into her. He held himself inside her, panting, not wanting to break their amazing connection. As he came down from his high, he kissed her bare back and felt her muscles relaxing just as his were. Finally, reluctantly, he pulled out of her and lifted her onto his lap. She clung to him, shaking, spent, but satisfied. He felt her smile against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. He didn't have to wait long before her steady breaths told him she was asleep, and he carefully lifted her and put her to bed. He climbed in beside her, held her close, and smiled until sleep claimed him too.