Hannah found an extra blanket in the hall closet and wrapped that around herself as she lay on top of Riley's bed. It would have been presumptuous of her to crawl beneath the covers when she fully intended to sleep in the living room after Riley had finished with his program.
Although she was exhausted, Hannah had a difficult time falling asleep. What an unusual day she'd had. She'd married a man who was little more than a stranger to her, and discovered in the short time they'd spent alone that he was easy enough to like. She sincerely doubted that she'd ever grow to love him the way she had Jerry, but then Jerry had been a special man. It wasn't likely that she'd ever find anyone like him.
Riley was rough around the edges; she couldn't deny that. He drank beer as though it were soda and enjoyed disgusting displays of violence. Yet he'd gone out of his way to see to it that she had a wonderful wedding dinner. He appeared to be trying.
She smiled at the memory of how he'd hauled her into his arms and carried her over the threshold, then immediately frowned when she recalled the way he'd looked at her in her nightgown and announced that Junior would be an only child.
With a determined effort, Hannah closed her eyes. She knew she wouldn't sleep, but lying in bed was a hundred times more appealing than being subjected to the boxing match.
Hannah stirred, feeling warm and comfortable. Her arm was wrapped around a pillow, although now that she thought about it, this particular pillow was anything but soft. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found a pair of intense eyes staring back at her. She blinked, certain she was seeing things.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"The question, my dear wife, is what are you doing clinging to me as if you never intend on letting me go?"
Hannah immediately removed her arm and bolted upright. To her surprise, she was beneath the covers. "How'd you do that?" she asked, noticing at the same moment that he wasn't.
"Do what?" Riley asked with a yawn. He sat up and stretched his hands high above his head and growled as though he were an injured bear stalking the woods. The sound was so fierce it was all Hannah could do not to cover her ears.
"You said you'd wake me," she reminded him, not the least pleased with this turn of events.
"I tried."
"Obviously you didn't try hard enough." Primly, she tossed aside the covers and leaped out of bed. "You had no right… We agreed – "
"Hold on a minute, sweetheart, if you're – "
"Don't call me sweetheart. Ever." She hated the way he said it. Jerry had always spoken it with such tenderness and love, and she wouldn't have this man who was her husband desecrate the few precious memories she had of her fiancé.
"All right," Riley said, holding up his palms. "There's no reason to get bent out of shape. For your information, I did try to wake you, but it was obvious you were in a deep sleep. It was either haul you into the living room or leave you be. I chose the latter."
Hannah glared at him. She'd risen quickly and neither the baby nor her stomach appreciated the abrupt change of position.
"Hannah, you're looking pale. Are you all right?"
"I'm perfectly fine," she lied. The all-too-familiar sensation was taking root in the pit of her stomach. Her brow broke out in a cold sweat and her knees grew weak.
"There's no reason to be so upset," Riley continued, undaunted. "I did the gentlemanly thing and slept on top of the covers. Our skin never touched, I promise you." He paused. "Hannah…"
She didn't hear whatever he intended to say. With her hand over her mouth, she rushed down the hallway, making it to the toilet just in time to empty her stomach.
Riley helped her to her feet when she'd finished, and gently wiped her face with a damp cloth. "I didn't mean to upset you. Damn, if I'd known you were going to get sick, I'd have slept on the sofa myself. I'll tell you what – you can take the bed and I'll camp out there until we move."
He was so gentle, so concerned. Hannah raised her fingertips to his cheek and offered him a feeble smile.
"My being sick didn't have anything to do with being upset. It's the baby."
He was silent for a moment. "How often does this happen?"
"It's better now than the first few months."
"How often?" he repeated firmly.
"Every morning in the beginning, but only once or twice a week now."
"I see." He released his hold on her and handed her the washcloth. "In that case, forget what I just said. If you want to sleep on the sofa, be my guest."