Chaos reigned around them. Tony scrambled from behind the bar. Sophia and Tina attempted to salvage the cake, tipped on its side on the cart. Guests scuttled backward away from the broken shards of glass.
Jane’s scope of sight shrank until only the pinpoint of his eyes filled her vision. “Hi, Gabe.” Her head spun and the green of his eyes blurred behind a veil of deepening darkness. She attempted a smile and fell short. “My name is Jane, by the way.”
Startled gasps and strong arms registered, but she wasn’t sure why as the blackness closed in.
Chapter Six
“She’s coming around.”
A cool cloth pressed to Jane’s forehead, and she opened her eyes.
“Welcome back, young lady.” Subtle shades of a Texas drawl echoed in Melanie Archer’s greeting.
Jane’s foggy head cleared enough for horror to bloom. “Oh, God.” She groaned. “Oh God, Sophia?”
“I’m here.” The chef leaned over Melanie’s shoulder. “Are you all right? You scared the life out of us.”
“Oh, Soph, I’m so sorry.” Jane’s gaze jerked to Melanie. “I’ll replace everything. None of this is Sophia’s fault.” She bit her lip and winced. “Please, don’t blame Creative Cuisine for ruining your party. I don’t know how I’ll make it up to you, but I will. I swear. I’ll run errands. Do laundry. I’ll clean your bathrooms.”
She attempted to sit up, but a large, male hand appeared from somewhere behind her, landing on her chest and pressing her back down. Recognizing those long fingers, she arched her head back to look up.
“Stay put.” Gabe glared at her. “The paramedics are on their way.”
“I don’t need paramedics.” She dropped her head, and her panicked gaze sliced back and forth between Sophia and Melanie. “Call them back and tell them never mind.”
“Let them check you out first.” Melanie’s green gaze briefly flicked up at Gabe. She smiled. “I’ll admit, my grandson can be a little intimidating at times, but, to my knowledge, he’s never made anyone faint before.”
“Grandson?” Her closing throat cut off her breath.
Gabe spoke from behind her. “Jane, is it? Meet my grandmother, Melanie Archer.”
And the hits just keep on coming.
A sudden commotion behind Melanie cut off the bubble of hysterical laughter working its way up from Jane’s compressing lungs. Melanie rose from the couch, at Jane’s hip, and disappeared from view as four efficient members of NYFD closed in. They fired questions, ignoring Jane when Melanie chimed in to overrule her insistence she was fine.
“Any nausea?”
“Yes, but—”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I had soup for lunch.”
“Have you ever fainted before? What have you had to drink today?”
On and on they pushed. Jane answered the rapid-fire demands while being poked and prodded.
“My name is Susan.” The only female paramedic sat in Melanie’s place. “I need some contact information.” She requested Jane’s full name, birthdate, and past medical conditions while making notes on a pad of paper.
Jane waved Susan closer as she attached a pinching clip to Jane’s finger and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. She leaned down, bringing her ear closer to Jane’s mouth.
“Is he listening?”
“Is who listening?”
“The tall guy in the cowboy hat.” Jane tilted her head back in an attempt to discover Gabe’s position beyond the wide shoulders of the other paramedics.
Susan looked around, then shook her head. “He’s talking to some people on the other side of the room.”
“Good.” Jane spoke quietly. “Look, this really isn’t necessary. I fainted because”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“I’m pregnant.”
“How far along?”
“Eight weeks.”
“I see. Well, that may have something to do with the fainting, and you can refuse treatment if you want, but your blood pressure is pretty high.”
Her nose scrunched up with her grimace. “Believe me, if you were in my place, your blood pressure would be high, too.”
“How is she doing?” Melanie stepped close once more with Sophia at her side.
The paramedic wrapped the coils of her stethoscope around her neck. “I recommend she be seen by a doctor, but I believe she wants to refuse transport. Is that right, Jane?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I just want to go home, please.”
“That’s your prerogative, but I recommend you see your obstetrician as soon as possible.”
“Obstetrician! You’re pregnant?”
Jane cringed at the volume of Sophie’s shocked question. If her blood pressure was high before, it spiked through the roof when Gabe’s face joined the others crowding the couch.
“I’d like to hear the answer to that question myself.” His dark brows dipped together over piercing green eyes. “I think I deserve an answer. Don’t you, Jane Whitmore?”
****
Gabe sliced the keycard through the lock. A twist of his wrist and he pushed open the door to his condo, stepped over the threshold, and spun around. He resisted slamming the door once Jane was inside, but it was close.