I hold out my hand, and he takes it. I guide him up the small staircase. “Where is the rest of the house?” he asks, and I stop walking and look over my shoulder as he glances around the small space. “This is the guesthouse, right?”
I snort and shake my head. “I gave Owen fifty million to help you settle in, Hevan. This is…” His mouth opens and closes. “Unacceptable.” I smile at his sincerity.
We move again, and when we get to the top of the stairs, he bumps into my back. “Where’s the landing?”
“This is it, Azrael.”
“Aaron,” he chastises with a laugh, then presses a kiss on the back of my head. “Show me the way to our box room, then.”
I stop us at the last door of the three doors, then I take a deep breath.
“It’s okay. Truly, I don’t care how small it is. I’ll buy us a bigger one.” I hear the smile in his voice.
Slowly, I push open the door and creep inside, tightening my hold on his hand as I guide him into the bedroom, then I stop at the crib.
“Hav—”
I turn to face him. His eyes widen, and his face falls.
“She’s your daughter, Azrael.”
He coughs. “How?” He searches my eyes before slicing them straight back down to our little girl. “I ordered Jessica to give you a shot after we—”
“After the last time we had sex, I knew. She told me.”
“I didn’t want you to go through all of that again,” he admits on a swallow.
“I was still pregnant. Even though I lost a lot of blood, Jessica insisted on me doing a test before she gave me the shot, and it came back positive. She said I needed a scan to confirm. I waited until I moved here. I didn’t want to risk anyone finding out.”
“Fuck, Hevan,” he rasps, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. Then his eyes latch onto our daughter and rest there, and he steps forward, his hands grip her crib tightly. “I-I don’t know how to be a father, Hevan.” There’s panic in his tone, and I’m eager to reassure him.
I wrap my arms around his middle and lay my head against his back. “I’ll teach you.”
He strokes her thick, dark hair. “She has my hair.” The tenderness and emotion in his voice cause tears to slide down my face.
“She does.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lucie.” It means light in Italian, and of course he knows this.
He swallows, and I cling to him tighter. “Thank you,” he croaks.
“She gave me you, Azrael. Your nonna and your mother, they gave me you.”
He brings my hand to his lips and places a tender kiss on my fingers. “I promise you both I’ll love you with everything I have. Protect you both, always.”
“I know you will.”
Slowly, he leans over the crib and strokes a finger down her cheek. “You own me already, little one.” He turns with me in his arms, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so at peace.
“Show me to your room. I need to remind you who youbelong to because I’m pretty sure you forgot.” He tugs on my sweater again playfully.
I roll my eyes. “Says the man in a T-shirt and jeans.”
He follows behind me, then grabs at my ass, making me squeal in delight.
“I’m going to spend all night reminding you,” he promises.
