Ariella’s heart thumped.
Without thinking too hard, she moved closer to him, baby still nestled against her chest.
Maxwell’s eyes lifted to her face.
Ariella smiled lightly, playful, attempting to make the moment less heavy than it felt. “Would ye like to hold her?”
Maxwell went very still.
Callum looked up at once. Moira’s eyes widened with interest. Mairi’s mouth curved into a knowing smile.
Maxwell’s voice came out controlled. “Nay.”
Ariella lifted a brow. “Nay?”
He stared at the baby as if she might bite. “She is… small.”
“She is,” Ariella agreed gently. “So am I, compared to ye, and ye’ve managed me just fine.”
Moira choked on a laugh.
Maxwell’s eyes snapped to Ariella’s, warning. Ariella held his gaze, unflinching, pulse racing.
Mairi leaned back in her chair, smug. “Hold the baby, me Laird. Ye’ve faced way worse… ye’ve faced bread. Ye can face a newborn.”
Callum added quickly, “She willnae hurt ye.”
Ewan whispered, “She’s sleepy.”
Isla murmured, “She’s tiny.”
Moira grinned. “All the more impressive if she defeats him.”
Maxwell’s jaw tightened. “Enough.”
Ariella stepped closer still, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “Just for a moment. Let her ken ye.”
His eyes darkened, and Ariella felt that familiar heat curl low in her belly. Not from lust alone this time. From intimacy. From the way his restraint made everything sharper.
His arms lifted slowly.
Ariella guided the baby into them, careful, supporting the tiny head as Maxwell’s hands closed around the bundle.
Maxwell froze.
He held her as if she were a weapon that might go off if mishandled.
The baby made a soft sound and shifted, curling into the warmth of his chest.
Maxwell’s gaze dropped to her face.
His entire expression changed.
Not dramatically. Not in a way anyone else might notice.
But Ariella did.
His mouth softened slightly. His shoulders eased, just a fraction. His breathing slowed.
