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I look up and see Uncle Kristian gazing at me with the same naked longing that was on his face when I was holding Nadia.
He takes my jaw in his hand and angles his face down to mine like he’s going to kiss me.
“Don’t,” I whisper, aware that people are walking in and out of the kitchen.
“But I need you, angel,” he murmurs. “I want to fuck you so bad it hurts. I want your belly full of me right now.”
My mouth falls open and I cover the baby’s ear. “Stop being horny in the middle of a party. And in front of the baby.”
“I’m horny for your whole fuckingsoul,” he breathes. “I want to make my life with you. Your baby and mine, can you imagine? Three babies. Five babies. I want a huge family with you. My dick is hard and my heart is soft. You’re killing me, princess.”
My lips twitch, and I shake my head. I can’t even pretend that I’m surprised he’s talking like this. “Get a grip. You turn into a hot mess whenever I’m holding a small child.”
“Always have, always will,” he agrees with a rueful smile, looking at Celeste, and I remember the day I held Danil, standing right here with him on the day Chessa died.
“You thought about it when I was sixteen,” I accuse him.
“Yes, I fucking did,” he says unapologetically, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’ve been going crazy for you to have my baby for years. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t adopted. I don’t know.”
That’s new. I’ve never heard him say anything like that before. “What do you mean if you weren’t adopted?”
He reaches behind me and props his hand on the counter so his arm is almost around me, and when Celeste and I are close to his chest, he speaks softly into my ear. “You look at your dad and your brothers and sisters and you see yourself, don’t you? You recognize your own features.”
I think I see where he’s going with this, and I point out, “You do look a lot like us.”
“Superficially, sure. Same hair. Same color eyes. But my build is different from your dad’s. My face is different than yours. I’ve never not felt like a Belyaev, even when I was banished, but it’s always been in the back of my mind when I look around a room full of Belyaevs that I don’t see my nose. My chin. No one says,Oh that’s what Kristian was like when he was a babyorYou get that from your Uncle Kristian.” He gazes at me with naked longing in his eyes. “I’m starving for it, princess. When I look at my children, I want to see me in them, and I want to see you as well. Your beautiful face. Your lovely smile. Your spirit. Your strength.”
His words make my heart feel like it’s going to burst open in my chest. I touch his jaw, wishing that I could press a kiss to his lips. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”
“Well, now you do. I couldn’t say it when you were sixteen, but I can say it now.” He dips his head lower toward mine, murmuring, “That look on your face makes me think you really do want my baby. Tell me you do. Say it.”
Heat rushes up my body.
“I…”I want your baby, Uncle Kristian. “I…”
Hunger flares in his eyes.
There’s a nagging feeling low in my belly.
A small child pelts across the room toward us and wraps himself around Uncle Kristian’s leg, laughing gleefully.
Helena comes toward us with a smile and takes Celeste from me. “Thank you for holding her for me, Zenya. Come on, Anthony. Let’s go get some cake.”
We’re left alone, and Uncle Kristian hasn’t moved his gaze from my face. The nagging feeling low in my belly doesn’t dissipate, and I realize it’s not nerves.
It’s something else entirely, and my heart drops.
I look up at him with a cry of dismay and my hand on my stomach. “Uncle Kristian, I…”
He stares from my hand to my face, worry blooming in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I should be relieved, shouldn’t I? Or I should feel nothing in particular, like I do every other month this happens. Guilt and sadness are slicing through me as I gaze into his blue eyes. “I think I’m getting my period.”
His face falls. A moment later, he wipes the expression away, but I can still see the disappointment in his eyes. Even though being pregnant would be a disaster, I feel the strangest urge to throw my arms around his neck and tell him I’m sorry. I need to tell Uncle Kristian that I went to Doctor Nader. Do I go back to him for a shot? Do I just leave everything up to fate? Making a decision about this is tearing me in two.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to check.”
