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“Yeah, you are,” he whispered, reaching up to cup her face. “Graham came to see me a few weeks ago,” he said then.
She nearly stopped breathing. God, he’d promised . . .
“He told me if I waited too long to come for you, then he’d make sure when I got over my dumb and came back later, he’d make sure I left just as fast.” His lips quirked. “He’d do it too. I figured I better get my ass back here and claim you while your family was willing to let me.”
Her brow arched. “You need their permission?”
“Not anymore.” He tugged at her hair, pulling her to his kiss, whispering the words over her lips. “I belong to you, witch. Heart and soul. There’s no way in hell I can live without you.”
Her smile lit up his heart. Filled with love, with a promise that met the one in his heart.
“Welcome home, Doogan.” And her lips lowered to his, their kiss one of shared promise, of shared love.
When it was over, he tucked her against his side again. “Damn, I’m tired, honey. You wear a man out.”
“Better get your rest,” she murmured as he let his eyes drift closed. “I figure you have about seven months to recuperate.”
His eyes jerked open, panic flashing through him for about two seconds.
No, he told himself desperately, she didn’t mean . . .
“Zoey . . .”
“Did Graham tell you I was pregnant, Doogan?” she asked, her tone perfectly reasonable. “Because if he did, you walk your ass right back out of here. At least until it snows.”
He blinked up at the ceiling. He tried like hell to swallow.
Slowly, he sat up, telling himself his hands really weren’t shaking. He wasn’t ready to pass out because he couldn’t breathe past the tightness in his chest.
“What did you say?” he wheezed.
That siren’s smile, those witchy eyes. Emerald circling celadon. So damned beautiful she could steal his breath even when he wasn’t in shock.
She caught his hand and dragged it to her still-flat stomach. “I warned you,” she reminded him. “I just didn’t realize the pill I was on was low dose. My doctor figures I’m about six weeks pregnant.”
He stared at his hand where it covered her stomach, realizing what she hadn’t told him.
“You weren’t going to tell me.” He turned his gaze to her, glaring back at her. “Were you?”
“No, I wasn’t,” she admitted, stubbornness flashing in her eyes. “If you didn’t want me without a baby, then you could do without me. I wouldn’t have kept our baby from you, though.” Regret filled her expression. “I would never punish our baby, Doogan. I would only love it, and you, and always regret what hadn’t been.”
His Zoey. His witch.
“I love you, but I’m spanking your butt for that one,” he promised her.
A little roll of her eyes was followed by a smothered yawn. “Later, I might let you.”
Later.
But he could kiss her. He could let his lips whisper over hers and he could thank God he got over his dumb in time to claim her. And their child.
Their child.
Damn. When he’d felt as though he’d come home the night he’d danced with her, he’d been right.
Zoey was home.
His heart.
