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“Like what?” she questions, her voice bewildered.
“That maybe you didn’t want to come home with me. That maybe you met someone else. That maybe the baby isn’t mine.” My pessimistic thoughts tumble rapidly off my tongue.
She smiles softly at me, her eyes darkening to the verdant green of a forest and filled with some emotion I can’t quite identify. It’s something I’ve never seen before.
“All of that?” she asks and I nod mutely, pondering what it is that I see in her gaze. Her smile expands, crinkling the corners of her eyes slightly. The sight of happiness on her face cracks the ice I was clinging to, and my heart soars. That is the look I always want to see on her face. Minus the bruises.
“Well, why don’t I address all of those concerns then Mr. Cerelli.” Her words are teasing. “I’m happy to be home. I definitely didn’t meet anyone while I was gone.” Her fingers twist inside mine, clutching my hand tighter as she steps even closer, her body brushing against mine. “This baby most certainly is yours…”
The most tremendous words ever uttered! Hearing them is a shock wave that ripples through every cell in my body. I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands coming up to cradle her hips as I press urgent kisses against the hard flesh hidden behind her dirty shirt. Her tiny fingers find their way into my hair, and she leans forward to whisper into my ear.
“There has never been anyone for me but you.” The barrier that I have kept around my heart since I was a boy falls to ash at her feet. I am wholly and completely at her mercy now. I kneel there, embracing her hips and mumbling against her belly, promising my son or daughter that I will be a better father than mine ever was. I read somewhere that it’s good to talk to babies before they are born, and I have so much time to make up for! I can hardly believe I’m going to get the chance to be a dad. To be Ana’s husband. She doesn’t hate me!
Pressing a kiss just below her navel, I rise to my feet with my entire world held in my arms. I have felt more today than I can ever recall feeling. It feels so… right.
The apartment is blessedly empty as I carry her down the hall toward our bedroom, there are room service trays on the dining room table that is absent of computer equipment. Nuzzling my face into her hair I ask, “Are you hungry, sunshine?”
She turns her face up to mine, brushing a kiss against my chin.
“Yes,” she says, kissing me again, the corner of my mouth this time. “But not for food.” My surprise must register on my face because she gives me a flirty wink and quirks her pale eyebrow at me. I remember this Ana. This is the sassy woman who teased and tempted me past the limits of my control on our wedding night. I’m ready for her now. I’m not going to risk losing here ever again. Turning into the bedroom, I grin at her.
“Food can wait.” I promise myself that I’m not going to fuck this up again.
Chapter Fourteen
Ana
This must be a dream. If I pinch myself, I’m going to wake up back in that truck or in that room with Faye. There is no way that I’m actually standing in X’s office while he kneels at my feet kissing my belly, and murmuring sweet words to our baby. If this is a dream, I may as well go all in. Threading my fingers into his silky, almost black hair, I lean down and tell him my secret, “There has never been anyone for me but you.”
Without a sound, he hugs me around my hips as he stands up, and I tumble into his arms as he carries me down the hall toward our bedroom. My pulse is racing, my palms are suddenly clammy. I wasn’t even this nervous on my wedding night, probably because the champagne had me feeling bold and flirty. I’m the exact opposite of those now, feeling timid and modest, but when he asks if I’m hungry, I can’t help the vixen that comes out to play. I kiss his stubbly chin.
“Yes.” I kiss the corner of his softly sculpted lips. “But not for food.” His eyes flash with shock, and what I think is lust, at my bold statement. So I wink and smile broadly at him, the same I did on our wedding night. I’m not going to waste one minute that we have together.
“Food can wait.” He growls, pushing open the door to our bedroom and striding inside. I guess the trays of food in the dining room will be there later.
He places me gently on my feet beside the bed. My cheeks flame, revealing that I’m not quite as confident as I am acting. I fidget a little, plucking at my dirty clothes. I don’t know what is expected of me, and I’m feeling self-conscious. The last time I was with this man with the intention of... making love? Having sex? I was tipsy. I’m the furthest thing from that today.
“Do you want to clean up, sunshine?” he asks, rubbing his thumb on my cheek, reminding me that I’m splattered with blood. I have been refusing to think about that, but now the memory comes flashing back, and I swallow hard, trying not to throw up.
Stepping away from his hand, I rush to the bathroom, just barely managing to make it before the dry heaving starts. You’d think I’d be used to it, with as much morning sickness as I have had, but no. There is no getting used to it. Not for me. I despise getting sick. Frustrated tears stream down my face as I retch.
There is nothing in my stomach to come up, and it hurts. Everything hurts. My bumps and bruises, my stomach, but most especially my heart. My dad… we weren’t terribly close, but he was all I had, and he was going to hand me over to a very bad man. I have no illusions about what would have been my fate once I was turned over to Dominic.
The heaving goes on and on, and when it ultimately stops I’m only marginally aware of Xavier surrounding me, holding my hair off my face and softly rubbing circles on my back as he murmurs words of comfort and apology.
“I’m so tired X.” I sigh, resting against him weakly.
“I know you are, sunshine.” He helps me to my feet and I lean tiredly against the counter while he turns on the shower, steam billowing out of the tile and glass enclosure.
“Come wash up, and I will tuck you in bed and bring you something to eat.”
That sounds just about perfect, even though I feel bad that I led him on just now.
“Would you mind turning around?” I ask, bashful about him seeing me naked for the first time in six months. The last time he saw me uncovered, my body was kicking, and I knew it. Now I can’t help feeling ugly. Dirty, fat and ugly.
He starts to shake his head no and reach for my clothes to assist me.
“Please?” The single word is a soft whimper of breath. He sighs his displeasure, but does as I ask, and I hurry to remove my clothes and step into the hot spray. The water swirling down the drain turns pink from the blood rinsing off of my skin. I gag again and lean heavily against the wall taking slow breaths through my nose until my stomach settles.
