The Paris Secrets trilogy: includes: Window, Screen, and Skin

by Michele Renae

"Something is wrong?" My feet stumbled backward. The wall caught my shoulders and spine.

  "Everything will be fine, Monsieur l'Etoile. The baby has swallowed fluids into her lungs." The doctor placed the tiny being inside a brightly lit plastic-enclosed bed, and a nurse began to massage her tiny body. "Just need to give her a brisk massage. You should sit down, Monsieur."

  I wasn't processing well. Massaging my baby? That sounded acceptable. But why hadn't they put her in my arms? And Hollie. Why wasn't my wife awake and alert? What had happened to her?

  I stepped toward the bed, but a nurse caught me in a surprisingly firm grasp. "You need to stand aside right now. She's going to be fine. Let us take care of her. She's had blood loss."

  "Blood loss," slipped from my mouth. My heart dropped. My knees wobbled.

  I gripped for something solid. It was the nurse's arm. "I must hold her," I said. "She needs me."

  "Then sit here in this chair. You can hold her hand while we work."

  "Yes." Blindly, I was directly toward the chair. I don't remember sitting.

  But I'll never forget clutching my wife's hand as if to pull her up from the depths.

  ***

  The scent of peppermint brought me to life. Well, not as if I was dead. I'd been resting because...whew! I'd just given birth. To a baby. Who was...well, I hadn't met him or her yet. I didn't know if it was a boy or girl. How much time had passed? Why had I passed out?

  Is this thing on? What does a girl have to do to get a little applause after pushing a baby out from between her legs?

  Shifting on the hospital bed, I felt the comforting warmth of a hand in mine, and so I squeezed. Jean-Louis, whose head had been lying on the bed beside my shoulder, looked up at me and smiled. How much did I adore those sky-gray eyes?

  "You are awake. How do you feel?"

  I shrugged, then did an inner assessment on my body. I felt lighter, and achy, and...relieved. "I feel like I pushed a watermelon through my vagina. What happened? Why was I sleeping?"

  "You passed out. There was some blood loss, but not so much it worried the doctor. She said to let you rest, and I was inclined to do so. You worked hard, maman. We have a daughter."

  "Really? A girl?"

  He nodded, and leaned in to kiss me. I couldn't worry about morning breath because his kiss was the perfect reward for my hard work. My husband's mouth against mine. And he felt warm and so right. He anchored me to this realm.

  We'd made a baby. (I suspect, on the ottoman.) A little baby girl.

  "Where is she?"

  "The nurse took her out to weigh and do all the measurements. She was...purple when she was born."

  "What?" What kind of crazy had invaded my husband while I had been out? "How long have I been snoozing?"

  "About an hour. The doctor said our daughter swallowed fluid into her lungs, so I watched the nurses massage her for a while. About five minutes and the color slowly blossomed on her skin. She is fine, Hollie. Ah, here she is."

  The door opened and in walked a nurse carrying a baby swaddled in a pastel yellow blanket. Jean-Louis stood and kissed the infant's head, then looked to me with the proudest new father smile. "I got to hold her earlier, but not for long. I ran down to the gift shop for some gum while I was waiting. And I bought her something."

  I shifted on the bed to sit up against the pillows and didn't mind whatever it was that roiled inside my gut. Hell, my body had been through the wringer. There was bound to be shrapnel, of which, I'd ask the nurses questions later.

  Right now, I wanted to hold that precious bundle. Jean-Louis took our daughter from the nurse. He bounced lightly, as if by rote. He cooed at our baby. A teardrop splat onto my nose, followed by so many others.

  "What is wrong, Hollie?"

  "Nothing," I said, though the tears streamed quickly. "I'm so happy. You're a daddy. And you look so good at it."

  "Eh." The Frenchman's concession to agreement without agreeing too much. God, I loved him. "Here is our daughter, mon abeille."

  He sat on the bedside and handed me the baby. And I laughed at sight of the bright yellow and black striped hat on her head. It had two black antennas bobbling up from the top. "A little bee!" He must have bought the hat in the gift shop.

  Did I mention how much I loved the man?

  Beneath the hat a perfect round face with closed eyes and a teeny nose and pursed lips slept. She was perfect. Had I made this? Jean-Louis had helped, too. Wow. We'd made a baby.

  My husband kissed the baby's nose and she wrinkled in response, her entire body wiggling and then settling. She knew he was her daddy. Oh, but I couldn't wait to watch him spoil her and love her and stand protectively beside her as she learned to ride a bike, soar high on the swing, and even go on her first date.

  "What's her name?" I whispered, feeling exhaustion waver through my body.

  "I'm not sure. She is a bee, that is for sure."

  "Bea," I said. "Short for Beatrice. Didn't you say that was your mother's name?"

  "My grand-mere's name. It's pretty. You are mon abeille, and she is mon petit Bea. I like it. Do you?"

  I nodded and hugged our daughter against my breast. "I love you. Both of you."

  "We are a family. Thank you, Hollie. For loving me."

  "Take us home," I said on a sigh, and then drifted into sleep.

  The End (for real)

  Yep, that's it. That's the end, or probably a new beginning for Jean-Louis and Holly. And Bea! I hope you enjoyed reading about them. And I thank you for reading the Paris Secrets trilogy.

  Please visit my website: MicheleRenae.com

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  Did you know that Michele Renae is a pseudonym used by Michele Hauf to write erotic romance? If you're interested in darkly sexy paranormal romance, check out Michele Hauf's world of Beautiful Creatures at:

  MicheleHauf.com

  @MicheleHauf

  facebook.com/Michele-Hauf-Author

  pinterest.com/toastfaery