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“Mr. DiAngelo? It's Dr. Gonzalez. I have your preliminary results.”
“And?”
“Sperm motility, morphology, and vitality are well within normal limits. A further analysis is being done at the lab, but everything looks good so far.”
“What does that mean? Am I sterile or not?”
“Not in the slightest, Mr. DiAngelo.”
I close my eyes and rest my head back on the couch. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Hanging up, I blindly toss my phone to the side, then pinch the bridge of my nose. It feels like the world I know is unraveling into one giant storm, with Rose and Liam at the center of it.
Liam.
The boy has the same unique light hazel eyes the DiAngelo family is known for, and with proof of my fertility, there’s no doubt in my mind now that Liam is my son. Which means that someone lied and that someone will pay dearly. With their life.
“Michael?”
I open my eyes and lift my head, meeting Rose’s sleepy but curious gaze. She peers up at me from my lap, and I feel the sudden need to touch her. Raising a hand, I trace the side of her face that’s not bruised and smile when she nuzzles further into my touch.
“Sleep well?” I ask her.
“I did,” she answers honestly. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but was that the doctor?”
“Yeah. Preliminary results show that I’m not sterile after all.” It doesn’t need repeating, but saying it aloud makes the whole thing even more real.
“I told you.” She smiles up at me through her lashes. “So do you believe me now?”
I trace her cheekbone and down her jawline with my thumb. She shivers beneath my touch, her eyes fluttering closed briefly. “I do. And I owe you an apology for how I acted. For the things I said.”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay, Michael. You believed you were sterile. I can’t fault you for that when you didn’t know any different. And I apologize too for lashing out. I was hurt, but it was uncalled for.”
I repeat the same route down the other side of her face being careful of her sore cheek. “Clean slate?”
“I’d like that.” Rose’s smile grows bigger and more brilliant. The beautiful sight sends a sensation down my spine. Rose stretches and makes the cutest squeak when she does. As she resettles with her head on my lap, I’m acutely aware of her warmth and feel myself grow hard. I try to shift without making my discomfort evident, but of course, Rose notices. Her eyes drop to the obvious bulge straining against my zipper, and the fiery temptress comes out to play. The one that calls to my demons like a siren at sea.
With a mischievous grin, she sits up and swings herself on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. My hands immediately find her hips, and I pull her snug against me, letting her feel the very thing she’s responsible for. Her lips hover over mine as she rocks forward with a deep moan. I push up and capture her lips. Our tongues tangle as we each fight to control the kiss. One quick nibble on her bottom lip, and I win that battle. But not the war. Because the next thing I know, Rose’s hands are on my zipper, and then her dainty hand dives in and wraps around my hard cock.
She swallows my groan with a devilish chuckle that has my demons purring in submission. This woman could ask for anything, and I’d give it to her without hesitation. She wants to burn the world? I’ll strike the match for her. She wants to hunt down and kill those responsible for kidnapping her? I’ll hand her the gun. She wants to claim my dark soul for her own? It’s already hers.
My hands tighten, ready to throw her down on this couch and eat her pussy out until she sees stars when the elevator pings, the sound echoing through the penthouse like a fire alarm.
With a sudden jerk, Rose removes her hand from my pants as if there's a raging inferno there, which, to be fair, feels like there is. She tumbles off my lap, her face as red as a tomato, before she disappears beneath a blanket.
Her embarrassment is adorable. My innocent little angel with a devilish side. It makes me wonder if she’d enjoy a visit to the Playground, the Russian sex club, for a night of discovery and pleasure.
“Knock, knock!”
I barely rezip my pants before my sister flutters around the corner like a bird. Bird of prey, maybe. A second later, Raphael follows, his arms ladened with several large bags, and Enzo is on his heels carrying a tower of boxes.
“Yo, where can I put these boxes of diapers?”
“What?”
Rose pops up, tossing the blanket away, all embarrassment gone now. “Yeah, what?”
Gabriella points at the hallway that leads to the guest rooms. “First door on the right. It’s a cute room with the best potential for a nursery. The windows face the east, so the sunrise will be beautiful in the morning.”
