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I stare at her stomach.
The pakhan-heir…
“I’ll figure it out.”
“We’ll figure it out.” She squeezes my hand.
“While you’re working on that, I’m going to tell Eoghan to draw up a set of divorce papers.”
Slipping off the bed, I put on my briefs, reality crushing me that Ana can’t sleep here.
“I should have done it when Ginny didn’t come home. I was lazy. I didn’t want to rock the boat with Sophie. Looking back, I screwed up. She’s older now and understands. Had I done it…”
“You were holding out for hope. That’s not a bad thing.”
“I don’t think I ever loved Ginny, to be honest. We were messing around. She got pregnant. I did the honorable thing.”
“And now you’re trying to do the same thing with me. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do it to Sophie.” Fear creeps back into her eyes.
“This time, it isn’t about doing the honorable thing. It’s about doing the best thing I can do, for Sophie and for me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Darragh
Days later, I get to work assembling the new crib, which is easier to put together the second time around.
The room was painted soft gray years back, and Ana refuses to let me paint it blue.
Even though she’s settled in nicely over the last few weeks, I’m torn between wondering if she doesn’t want to be a bother, or if she still plans to sneak out of here in the middle of the night after the baby is born.
If she left, would she try to take the baby?
“It’s not even seven a.m.” Ana wanders into the nursery.
She’s wearing a sexy off-the-shoulder white eyelet night gown I bought her one day on my way home from work.
It was so she could ride my cock with that tight, wet cunt of hers with a face lost in pleasure, head thrown back, the ruffled collar off one shoulder, exposing a breast with a stiff nipple, looking so unguarded, and not worrying I’m staring at a round stomach.
I can’t keep my damn hands off her.
We devour each other like maniacs. I’ve never felt so alive.
“I’d like to get much of this done before Sophie wakes up.” I’m shirtless and in running shorts, working up a sweat. “I have to explain that you’re staying, that we—”
“No!” Ana waves and sinks into the rocking chair I moved in here a few days ago. “You said you needed to get your divorce.”
“Eoghan express-mailed the divorce papers to her attorney in Zimbabwe. She signed them, and they are on their way back.”
“She signed them, no questions asked?” Ana looks pale.
This is getting too real.
This is when people panic.
“She’s seeing someone, too.” I stand up to tighten the bolts on the top rail. “Ana, I won’t force you to marry me.” I toss the wrench back into the toolbox and kneel at her feet. “I’m not Cormac.”
Ana strokes her chin, her eyes tearing up.
