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He held me for a moment and then pulled back again, wiping the tears off my cheeks with his fingers. “I’ve been talking to Liam’s doctors and nurses, and he’s going to be fine. He’ll be staying for a couple more days and then will be discharged home.”

“That’s a relief,” I said, hoping that he bought my story about being sad for Liam instead of Drake.

Drake leaned down and kissed me, the kiss tender. “You are an angel.”

“Hardly,” I said, immediately feeling guilty that I’d lied to him about why I was crying. I’d confess when I gave him the picture.

“You are,” he said and pulled me into a quick hug. “Now let’s go and get something to eat. I’m starved. You need a Marguerita to improve your mood. How does that sound?”

I forced a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

In the middle of the night, Drake turned on the bedside light and snuggled closer to me.

“Kate?” he whispered, kissing my shoulder. “Are you awake?”

I yawned and rolled over to face him. “I am now. What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?”

He pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on the top of my head. “Something like that. I woke up and can’t stop my mind from working.”

Usually, that meant he wanted to make love, but I felt no erection pressing into my belly. I ran my hand up his back. Maybe he was still upset about Liam and wanted to vent. We’d had a very enjoyable meal at our favorite restaurant and opened a bottle of wine when we got home, talking in quiet voices about Drake’s childhood before Louise left. He had some happy memories but they were few for it was obvious that she couldn’t adjust to the loss of her first son.

Drake had been in a very thoughtful mood that night and I thought he’d want to make love but he hadn’t.

Now, he couldn’t sleep. “Too much alcohol?” I said, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well from the wine.

“No,” he said and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “To many thoughts.”

“What’s on your mind?”

He sighed heavily. “Kate, I don’t want to wait to have a family. I want a child now.”

My eyes widened at that and I didn’t know what to say. We had talked about having children when we first discussed marriage, but that was a few years off when I was finished my thesis and we had done some more travelling. I pulled back and looked in his eyes.

“What made you change your mind?”

He shook his head, a sad expression in his eyes. “I realized when I saw Liam at the hospital and today when you were crying about him that life is too short to put off things that you want. I want to have children, Kate. I want a real family – like you had with Ethan and your mom and Heath.”

I didn’t say anything, wanting to give him the chance to speak and explain how he felt.

“I know you wanted to finish your thesis first,” he said carefully, softly, “and I wanted to go back to Africa first, but there are no guarantees that we will even be able to have children.”

“Go on.”

“Something could happen to either of us and that would be it – waiting would

mean we’d never have had children or be parents. You can always finish your thesis, and I can always go to Africa but we can’t always have children. I realized that I’ve missed every milestone with Liam. I’ll miss every milestone to come. I don’t want that to happen to us.”

I pulled him more closely into my arms and kissed him, happy that he felt able to reveal his fears to me. He was so afraid of turning into his father, but I knew then that would never happen. He wanted to be like my father, the co-head of the household, involved and engaged in his children’s lives. As much as I rebelled against my father, I knew he was always there like a fortress around our family, ready to protect us. I realized that after his stroke, and after how patient and understanding he was with Drake and with me.

If anything, Drake ran the risk of being too much the opposite of his father, and not having any fun in his life for fear of being like the carefree neglectful Liam.

“You’re not saying anything,” Drake said, pulling back to look in my eyes. “I want you to be completely honest with me. Tell me what you think about it. I need to know.”

“I want to make you happy,” I said, running my hands up his chest, his skin warm. “I want to have your children, if we can.”

“And your thesis?”

“I can still work on it while I’m pregnant, silly,” I said and smiled, squeezing him. “I’m working on the first chapter already. As long as I’m not sick as a dog, I should be able to finish it before the nine months are up.”

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