“Yes?” I called out, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“The doctor is here,” Dante said.

My heart leaped into my throat.

“I don’t need a doctor,” I said, opening the door slowly.

Dante stood in the bedroom, his dark coat removed, revealing the clean lines of his white dress shirt.

The top button was undone, but he still looked entirely in control.

“You look pale, and you have been through an ordeal,” he said, his dark eyes scanning my face.

“I am fine, Dante. Just exhausted.”

He stepped further into the room, bypassing me to look out the rain-streaked window.

Outside, the security lights illuminated the manicured lawns of his estate.

Armed guards walked the perimeter, their silhouettes dark against the wet stone paths.

“My personal physician is discreet,” Dante said, turning back to me. “He is already downstairs.”

“No,” I said, a panic rising in my chest.

If a doctor examined me, the pregnancy would be discovered.

Dante was a man who noticed every detail; a simple blood test or physical exam would reveal my secret.