Page 38 of Stealing Cinder

Bastian moves away from the windows and crosses the room. He lowers himself to one knee in front of the sofa, bringing his eyes level with hers. His calloused hand extends, palm up. He waits.

Cinder looks at his hand, then his face. Whatever she finds in his expression softens the rigid line of her shoulders.

She places her fingers in his.

"Trust us." His gold wedding band catches the light as his fingers close around hers.

"Trust?" The word rolls off her tongue, cautious and foreign. "I don't know you, but you put your life on the line to protect mine and that of my child. You have all my trust."

The silence stretches for three beats. Her chin drops a fraction.

Bastian holds her gaze a moment longer, then releases her fingers and straightens. He moves to the armchair near the window, one ankle crossing over his knee.

"You may not know us directly, but your father was a friend of ours." Oliver turns on the couch and faces her. "We were at his funeral. Me, Valerian and Bastian."

“I wasn’t. He was a business acquaintance, but I did send flowers to the family,” I offer when Cinder looks at me for confirmation.

“Ah. Thank you.” She pauses, her breath ragged around the edges. "I didn't see you." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Then again, I had a huge veil over my face. I couldn't stop crying. It was an ugly day for me."

"The three of us were there all the same."

As he speaks, Oliver moves closer and takes her hand. His grip is firm and careful around her smaller fingers, his expression holding nothing but raw sincerity. I've known this man since we were boys bloody-knuckled in back alleys, and he does not give his respect lightly.

"Your father did a lot for this city. We owe him." His charcoal eyes hold hers. "That includes protecting his only child."

Cinder's lashes drop. A breath shudders through her small frame. She nods once. “I can never repay you enough for your kindness. That goes for all of you.” She looks at each of us in turn, holding our gazes for a heartbeat.

Valerian steps forward, his stride carrying the quiet weight of surviving damage most people cannot fathom. Scars cover his hands, his neck, the exposed skin above his collar. Old burns, healed knife wounds. He’s been through hell and yet he found love.

He bends and presses a kiss to Cinder's cheek.

She looks up at him. And in that single glance she tells me everything I need to know about her.

She doesn't see the scars.

Her eyes meet Valerian's and a small, genuine smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. The tension in her face melts and she tilts her head, studying him with grace and gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Under all that cigar smoke, you smell like baby powder and perfume."

Valerian grins. The expression transforms his scarred face, softening the hard lines and deep ridges until he looks exactly like what he is. A teddy bear in love.

"My wife and I just had a baby."

"Awww! Congratulations." The warmth in Cinder's voice is genuine. Then her brow furrows and the worry climbs back into her expression. "All the more reason you don't need to take on my problems. I can't have your death on my conscience."

Valerian steps behind the sofa and places a hand on her shoulder. Reassurance. A decent gesture.

My blood surges to fucking boiling.

My legs carry me across the room before my brain catches up. I drop onto the cushion beside her, my thigh pressing against hers, and my hand settles over the swell of her belly. Crowding her. Every man in this room reads the signal for exactly what it is.

I am acting like an animal. Posturing is beneath me and always has been, but this woman wrecked my thinking abilities long before tonight.

Valerian lifts his hand from her shoulder without comment. His mouth twitches at the corner, the barest flicker of amusement.

I leave my hand where it is. The baby shifts beneath my palm.

Valerian straightens and returns to his seat. The amusement vanishes.