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"Hey." I roll over to face him.
His eyes are still bleary with sleep, but he smiles softly.
Suddenly, I feel sick.
I groan, and lie back down.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Just nauseous," I say.
I know what it is.
Morning sickness.
But he doesn't.
"Wait here. I'll make you breakfast."
He kisses my forehead before slipping from the sheets.
I watch the play of muscles across his back as he puts on his sweatpants.
Even now, desire wrecks havoc through me.
I want nothing more than to lose myself in him again.
The smell of sizzling bacon soon wafts in.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me I'm now eating for two.
Anthony returns, carrying a tray laden with eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, and two steaming mugs of coffee.
Best of all? Pancakes.
"You didn't have to do this," I say, sitting up against the headboard.
"Wow. What a spread!"
"I wanted to." He sets the tray over my lap.
"You should eat up. Keep your strength."
The fluffy pancakes melt in my mouth.
Anthony perches beside me, sipping his coffee.
His presence is comforting.
It's reached a stage where I didn't know what my life was before I ended up with him.
When I'm finished, he takes the tray and kisses the top of my head.
"Get some more rest. I'm going to do some digging, see if I can figure out who this hitman is working for." His eyes darken. "And if there's actually a mole, or our enemies just have excellent tracking skills."
I nod.
He gives my hand a quick squeeze before disappearing from the room.
