But now?Now he had a second chance.And he wouldn’t squander it.
“I’m open to suggestions,” he said, lying through his teeth.There was no way in hell he’d allow Azlyn or their son to live without elite protection.Nothing less than the palace guard—trained to defend the royal family—would suffice.
“I...I don’t have any suggestions at the moment,” she admitted, raking her fingers through her long, curly hair.
Zayn nearly groaned.
Did she haveanyidea how stunning she looked?Aside from the dark circles under her eyes, she looked exactly like she had the morning after they’d first made love—soft, mussed, a little dangerous.The kind of woman a man could lose his mind over.
His body reacted instantly to the image, but he shoved the heat down.Not now.Logic, not lust.That was the lesson he’d learned—the hard way.Lust had won the last time.Lust had cost him a year without his woman.
And now he had a son, too.
No, this time, he’d lead with logic.Because this time, he wasn’t losing either of them.
Chapter 22
Azlyn curled her fingers into a tight ball, willing herself not to run to him.She wanted to throw herself into his arms.To beg him to protect her.To protecttheirson.She wanted to sob against his shoulder, unload every moment of the past year—how she’d cried herself to sleep almost every night, how terrified she’d been when she discovered she was pregnant, how excited and overwhelmed she’d felt all at once.
She’d wanted to call him.To celebrate the precious life they’d created together.But she hadn’t.And now, everything—every sleepless night, every joyful, tearful milestone—pressed in on her all at once.
Too much had happened in the past twelve months to think clearly.
Or maybe...maybe she was just exhausted.
“You should sleep for a bit,” Zayn suggested gently.“You look pretty wiped out.”
She was.Desperately.
But what if he took Griffin while she slept?What if she woke up and her baby was gone?
“We’ll be here when you wake up,” he added, as if reading her mind.
Azlyn nearly sagged in relief.She wanted that nap so badly.Just thirty minutes.A tiny reset.But guilt and fear dug in like splinters.She’d kept Griffin from him.She’d been wrong.That didn’t mean she could stomach the idea of waking up and finding her son missing.
“I’m fine,” she lied.“Anyway, I’m too wound up to sleep right now.”
Lie.Giant, aching lie.She could curl up right there and sleep for twelve hours.Maybe more.When had she last slept more than three hours straight?
Too long ago to remember.
“How about some food?”he offered.
She looked around at the museum-level whiteness of the suite and laughed out loud.
“Food?Inthisplace?”
He chuckled, and her heart gave a ridiculous little flutter.God, she remembered that laugh.Deep, smooth, rich—his laugh should be bottled and sold as an aphrodisiac.
“How about biscuits and gravy?”he offered, eyes twinkling.
Azlyn froze.Then narrowed her eyes.
“Oh, you playdirty,” she accused, trying not to smile.But the smile won anyway.
He threw his head back and laughed, clearly delighted.“Biscuits and gravy it is,” he declared, lifting Griffin into his arms with one practiced motion.“I’ll inform the butler.”
“What time is it?”she asked, rising from the sofa and trailing after him toward a sleek set of doors.“I didn’t grab my purse or phone when we left.”
