Stay With Me by Maya Banks Page B

meet with Mr. Kingston again and are surveying the construction site. I’m not entirely sure when they’re going to fly in.”
    “I see,” Catherine said faintly.
    “I’m having a car meet you. If you’ll wait inside baggage claim, I’ll have the driver come in to collect you,” Paige hurried to say.
    Catherine closed her eyes and leaned heavily against the wall. “No, I’ll take a cab. I’d prefer not to wait.”
    “If you’re sure…”
    Paige didn’t sound convinced.
    “Tell me something, Paige. When did this change of plans take place?”
    There was a long silence, and Catherine shook her head.
    “When I called them back last night to tell them I’d made your flight arrangements, they told me that Kingston wanted to meet with them again.”
    Catherine pressed her lips together and her grip tightened around the phone. “Okay well, you can tell Mr. Cullen and Mr. Wellesley, should they call to get a report, that I made it in just fine, and that for the record, my flight was perfectly miserable, and I would have much preferred to remain in Jamaica since it’s clear they aren’t coming home anytime soon.”
    She slapped the phone shut and took in several gasps as the pain in her side became nearly unbearable. She bent over to try and steady herself, sucking in air through her nose.
    A chill worked up her spine, and she shivered. A bug. She must have caught a bug in Jamaica. She was tired and achy, and a chill had set in. She needed more Tylenol for the fever, and then she needed to call her obstetrician.
    After waiting impatiently for her baggage, she hauled it toward the taxi rank outside and waited her turn for a cab. After twenty minutes, she climbed into the backseat and wearily supplied her address.
    On the way home, she phoned her obstetrician and got his answering service. She left a message for him to call her as soon as possible then leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes.
    The next thing she knew, the cabbie had reached back to touch her shoulder.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled.
    The doorman to their apartment building opened her door.
    “Mrs. Wellesley, welcome home. I’ll get your baggage.”
    She reached gratefully for his hand as he helped her out. She stumbled as she stepped onto the curb, and Stuart put a hand to her elbow.
    “Are you all right, Mrs. Wellesley?”
    “I’m fine,” she said. “Long trip.”
    “Why don’t you go on up. I’ll bring your bags up in a moment.”
    She smiled. “Thank you.”
    She walked as quickly as she could to the elevator and was grateful when it opened and someone got off just as she approached. She stepped inside, inserted her keycard then punched the button for the top floor.
    As the elevator soared upward, she wavered and reached out to brace herself. A searing bolt of pain speared through her side, and she doubled over in agony.
    She gasped as wave upon wave splintered through her body. She cried out in pain and then again in fear. Her baby. She couldn’t lose her baby.
    Her knees buckled, and she grabbed at the railing. Her vision dimmed, and she couldn’t breathe for the horrific, burning pain.
    She was vaguely aware of hitting the floor, and then mercifully, blackness enfolded her.

Chapter Fourteen
    Logan let the phone ring until the answering machine picked up then he hung up for the fortieth time. Then he dialed Catherine’s cell phone. Again. He swore when it went straight to voicemail.
    He and Rhys stood outside the door of passenger pickup waiting for their driver, and both men wore extremely grim expressions.
    Rhys, too, was on the phone, talking to Paige. When he slapped the phone shut, jaw clenched, Logan knew he hadn’t been any more successful gaining information about Catherine.
    “What did she say?” Logan asked.
    “The same as the last time,” Rhys said tersely. “She talked to Catherine right after she got off the plane. She took a cab home, and she was pissed.”
    Logan blew out his breath. Hard to do