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‘Look, it’s Papa!’
Rafael winced and mouthed sorry to Isobel as her dance class was effectively disrupted for a moment as their three-year-old daughter broke free of the orderly line and threw herself into Rafael’s arms, where he stood at the door.
Rafael caught Beatriz up and kissed her soundly, making her giggle, and then he shut the glass door so that Isobel could get on with the class.
Beatriz put her hands on Rafael’s face so that he looked at her, her little face lit up with joy, brown eyes sparkling. ‘Papa, I felt the baby kick just now—really hard. He’s going to be coming soon.’
Rafael quirked an amused brow. ‘Oh? So you think it’s going to be a he?’
‘Silly Papa. Of course he’s going to be a he. We already have a girl—me.’
Rafael smiled and figured he couldn’t argue with that logic. He hugged his daughter close, all the while keeping a protective and loving eye on his beautiful, glowing and heavily pregnant wife. She sent him a dry look through the door, and he sent one right back that said, Look all you want. I’m not going anywhere. She sometimes protested that he was too overprotective, but Rafael wasn’t about to have it any other way.
And one month later Beatriz’s prediction came true—her baby brother Luis was born…
