Page 60 of Entangled

Gian smiled sinfully. “I didn’t mind, Cara. Not with you. You made me love you, and I wanted to be with you, so I was going to try and do that. I just didn’t know how. I was trying to tell you before you found out in Chicago. I knew I should tell you, but it isn’t the kind of conversation that is usually brought up when you first meet someone. As time passed, it became more of me not knowing whether you were going to be with me, or go your own way, so I held off again. I asked what you wanted with me, in the future, and you only said me. You said me, love. I just didn’t know how to tell you the situation without ruining us. I didn’t want to ruin us. And then you were gone.”

“I should have listened to this when you offered to tell me before,” Cara said sadly, her hand still cupping his cheek, and her thumb stroking sweet lines on his jaw. “I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“Circumstance and details have put me back in the position where I have to play house with a woman I despise, who I don’t trust. I wish I could be rid of Elena, but I can’t send her back to her father. Not that it would do me any good, because she would still be my—”

“Wife,” Cara interrupted gently.

“Exactly. I’m sorry that I can’t give you the things you deserve. I’m sorry that I love you, Cara, but I can’t shout it to anyone who will listen, or make a huge show of getting a ring on your finger and walking you down the aisle. I’m sorry that I was selfish and put you in a position where your worth is tied to my choices. I can’t make a home with you, not one that will ever feel proper or permanent, because I fucked up once, and here we are.”

“Gian.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I wish I could say something different, but it’s the only thing I have right now. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Cara whispered.

“Gian?”

Gian reached for Cara through his groggy haze of sleep, hearing her call of his name, and wanting to bring her closer. He found her side of the bed empty, and promptly opened his eyes wide. Cara stood in the bedroom doorway, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. A quick check of the clock said it was way too early in the morning for her to be up. Cara didn’t get out of bed before eight, not if she didn’t have to.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asked her.

Cara pointed at her rounded stomach, pouting in the darkness. “He makes me pee a lot.”

Gian’s tired laughter rung out in the bedroom, and he fell back into the bed. “Go to sleep, Cara.”

“In a minute.”

“What is it, mon ange?”

“Did you set up the crib?”

Gian cleared the sleep out of his voice, saying, “Yeah, it needed set up, didn’t it? You fell asleep early, I had nothing to do.”

“Could have woke me up. There’s all sorts of things we could be doing that are fun in bed, you know.”

“You need to sleep more than you need me waking you up to get a good fuck.”

Although, he was down for that, too. Just not when he could see she was tired as hell.

Cara slipped into the bed, and tucked herself close to Gian’s side. Rolling over, he brought her head to his naked chest, and let his hand rest on her lower stomach. A possessive, protective swell washed through his bloodstream at the feeling of his son shifting under his father’s palm, one of the first movements Gian had felt of his child.

“Cara?”

“Hmm?”

“I would rather set up a nursery in the penthouse, if you would be willing to stay there, I mean,” he said.

Cara let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know about that one.”

“I don’t have to be there, if you don’t want me to—”

“Aren’t things complicated and difficult enough with all of this? Do we need to add in that sort of thing, too?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, love. You know that.”

“I do.”

“But my son is, and will always be, non-negotiable between us. For him, and for you if you would let me, I will move the world. I won’t compromise about my child. Not when it comes to caring for him, or providing him with whatever he needs, not to mention his mother.”