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“Then what is it?”
I brought our joined hands to my mouth and kissed her fingers. “The truth.”
45
Eden
Talon guided me down a hall on the castle’s second floor. “Where are we going?” I asked.
His lips curved in a mysterious smile. “You’ll see.”
It was February 13th, and the baby was due any day now. Talon had arranged a candlelight dinner in a library on the castle’s second floor with salmon in a creamy Tuscan sauce for me and blood-wine and chocolate for him. We’d both dressed up, and he looked way too sexy for my nine-months-pregnant self in a dark suit and white shirt open at the collar that set off his sculpted features, his strong chin dusted with dark stubble.
The food had been delicious but I’d only picked at it. My back ached and I couldn’t seem to get comfortable.
Talon stopped at a door at the end of the hall. “Shut your eyes.”
I put a hand on my sacrum, trying not to be cranky. “What is it?”
A boyish grin. “A surprise.”
“Yeah?” Temporarily forgetting my discomfort, I smiled back—he looked so pleased with himself—and obediently closed my eyes.
Talon kissed my nape. I’d kept my hair short and he loved it, telling me everything about my neck was erotic, even the back of it. “I can’t wait to fuck you again,” he said against my ear.
I snort-laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I have circles under my eyes and I’m so fat I can’t put on my own shoes.”
He ran his tongue around the shell of my ear. “Not fat, pregnant—with our son. And that makes you beautiful and sexy and so, so fuckable.”
I hmphed. Because…cranky. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in two weeks.
Talon had moved me permanently into his apartment. He’d purchased a massage table and, after getting the therapist to show him how he could help, gave me nightly massages. They helped, but between my aching back and the fact the baby seemed to be curled up on top of my bladder, I woke up every couple of hours.
The door opened and Talon drew me inside. “Can I open my eyes now?” I asked.
“No.” He nipped my lower lip and released my hand.
I heard a rustling sound; someone else was in there, too. “What are you up to?” I asked, stifling a smile.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
When I did, Rio and Twilight yelled, “Surprise!” Rio wriggled jazz hands for emphasis.
We were in a large room with a row of windows along one wall. A top-of-the-line sewing machine perched on a table. Built-in shelves held scissors, thread, buttons and other sewing notions. An ironing board leaned against a wall next to a dressmaker’s dummy. There was even a cutting table. The other half of the room held several racks of clothes next to a half-dozen empty racks.
I brought a hand to my mouth. “Oh. My. God.”
“It’s a workshop-slash-showroom,” Rio stated proudly.
My gaze swung to Talon, watching me with his hands in his suit pockets, a smile on his lips. “You did this?” I asked.
He nodded. “You like it?”
“Heck, yeah.” I grinned so wide I was probably giving off happiness sparks. “It’s…wow. Perfect.” I crossed to the sewing machine, caressing it possessively. “This thing costs an arm and a leg. I can’t wait to test-drive it.”
“Let me give you the tour.” Rio pulled me toward the racks of clothes. “Me and Twilight flew over to Halifax and bought up a bunch of used and vintage clothes for you to work with.”
I fingered a black velvet dress. “I can’t wait.”
