Page 42 of Shark’s Rise

After hauling the IV stand across the room and using the restroom, I found my phone on the nightstand. Less than a minute after I texted him, Sebastian bounded back into the master suite and hauled me into his arms.

“My Little Red.” After kissing my forehead, he pulled back a little to dazzle me with his full smile. “How was your nap? How are you feeling?”

“It was good. I’m fine. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Were you working?”

“Yes. There’s always something.” He smiled halfheartedly. “And I was also on the line with Pia, giving her an update.”

“Oh.” I felt my own lips curving upward. “I miss her. How is she?”

“Asking about you,” he supplied. “Both she and Vela wanted me to forward their love.”

His smile widened—as it always did when he spoke of his sister and niece. For several seconds, I sat and simply absorbed its stunning magic, from the sexy gleam of his perfect teeth to the pure happiness in his dark-cobalt gaze—and I recognized the blessing with which I’d been bestowed. When most of the world talked about the power of Sebastian Shark, they referred to his corporate drive and his commanding swagger. For the rest of time, I’d think of him exactly like this. Radiating the love in his heart. Exposing the huge capacity of his soul.

Which was why I already dreaded having to crack him open in both places.

“How…how sweet of them,” I stammered before hoisting on my proverbial big-girl panties and spurting in one long rush, “Sebastian, I want you to take me home.”

His grin faded. His face tightened. “Baby—”

“I’m serious.”

He glowered. “So am I.”

“I understand that.” I straightened my spine against the pillows. Jerked my chin higher. Most importantly, I met his gaze without a blink. “But it’s time for you to understand my perspective too. We belong together, especially now. But even if that wasn’t the case, we’d be having this exact conversation. I refuse to stay here by myself while you go—”

“You’re not by yourself,” he spat.

“With all due respect, Mr. Shark, that’s bullshit.”

“Christ, Abbigail.” He paced a contorted figure-eight across the floor. “Please don’t argue with me!”

“No.” I raised my volume but—miraculously—kept my tone level. “This time, you don’t argue with me!”

He stopped and rushed out a weighted sigh. “I still have no idea if it’s safe. And now, other problems have come up that will require my time. It’s really not—”

“Then call in a battalion of security if you have to. I’m going with you, Bas, whether it’s on that helicopter or on my own two feet.”

He spun around. His chest was pumping. The only other time I’d seen him breathe so hard was during his wildest orgasms—an image I really didn’t need right now, with my system flushed in fresh sleep, half a bag of IV hydration, and a bunch of pregnancy hormones.

“I need to start care with my own doctor, Sebastian—the one who will be following me through the whole pregnancy, especially if the nausea is going to continue.” I capped that point by holding up the arm that housed the IV.

He didn’t let up with the hard breathing. Or the tormented look that now went with it. “Abbi, please,” he gritted. “I’m not trying—”

“I know you’re not, baby. But I’ve been more than patient with all of this.” I waved my untethered hand around, letting it symbolize my frustration with every part of the sequestration. “But my feelings don’t matter anymore. This child is the most important detail in the picture now.”

“And you don’t think I get that?”

“Do you?” I rebutted. “I mean, I can’t help but feel like this has been easy for you in some ways. That you’ve kept me conveniently hidden away out here, and now? Well…” I swallowed so hard, it felt like there were golf balls lodged in my throat. “Yeah, well…now this.”

I drifted off, barely saying the last words loud enough to be heard. If I had to raise this baby on my own, I would. And could. If I had to. But this child would never believe he—or she—was a mistake. Ever.

“Woman.” Bas and his growl punctured back into my consciousness. “What on fucking earth are you talking about? ‘Hiding you away’?”

He stared like I’d just sprouted a second head—until clearly, the full brunt of his anger set in. “Tell me one goddamn time I have ever treated you like my hidden secret. One. Damn. Time.”

I gulped again.

He glowered harder.