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"You're not the boss of me." Wilted and leaning against the sink now, her words lack oomph.
"You keep thinking that."
"I know that. Even if I was still your girlfriend, you wouldn't be my boss."
"You're not my girlfriend," I agree.
She winces, hurt flashing in her dark eyes, but she ducks her head, hiding her reaction.
"You areílios mou. You bring light into the darkness of my soul. You are the flame that burns there." I sound fucking poetic.
Her head snaps up, her eyes wide and disbelieving in her pale face. Then she shakes her head. "We are not talking about this right now."
Fine by me. No matter what Zeus thinks, I am not suddenly wrapped up in soft emotions. Acknowledging them once is enough.
"You didn't tell me you are mafia," she accuses.
I shrug. "Neither did you."
"I'm not mafia. Not anymore."
"You used the threat of Cosa Nostra involvement to get what you wanted from my brother. You're still mafia."
"You have an answer for everything." She doesn't sound impressed by that. "But what is your answer to my broken heart? That it shouldn't be broken."
I snap my mouth closed on my instinctual response, because that is exactly what I think. Her heart shouldn't be broken. If she trusted me, it wouldn't be, but according to her, it is.
That damn pain twinges in my chest again.
"I want to go home." She looks at me like she's waiting for something.
For me to move? That's not happening. She's fragile. She needs my support. "Don't you think we should go to the doctor first?"
"I don't need a doctor for stress nausea," she dismisses.
"Are you sure that's all it is? You've been tired the last few days and getting up later." I looked up symptoms of early pregnancy so I could watch for them.
She rolls her eyes. "I own a nightclub. Running it can be exhausting."
"Are your breasts tender? I noticed your areolas are darker. Your reaction last night and today could indicate hormonal based emotions."
She looks at me with confusion and then dawning understanding.
"You think I'm pregnant? And that's why I'm so angry with you?" Her voice rises steadily until she's almost shouting. "I'm angry with you because you betrayed me, not because I'm hormonal."
"Okay, but you have other symptoms of pregnancy. You haven't had a period since we met." That was eight weeks ago.
It only took a few seconds to realize I wanted her and one night to know I am never letting her go. And if I'm right, less than two months to get her pregnant.
The primal part of me is very satisfied by that fact.
"I…you…you got me pregnant on purpose!" She's definitely shouting now.
"Yes." I have made no attempt to hide my desire to do so.
"But I thought…" She shakes her head then the confusion disappears completely as her temper ignites. "You knew. You knew everything I didn't know and you got me pregnant anyway. You bastard!"
Every curvy inch of her vibrates with outrage.
