Maybe it was the lobster bisque. Maybe that rooster finally poisoned me with one of the eggs. My mind spins with crazy possibilities. It isn’t like me to feel queasy.
Rowland pulls me to my feet, his large hands cupping my cheeks, his brow creasing with concern. “Are you alright?”
“I can’t believe you saw me with my head down the toilet.”
Eyes shining with warmth, he studies my face. “When was your last period?”
The question hits me upside the head. When was it? I’ve been so caught up in this fairy tale that I haven’t been keeping track. Days blur together when you’re finally happy.
“I…” I frown. “I don’t remember.”
He grins. “Are youpregnant?”
I laugh, but the sound is hysterical. Brother Matthew tried to make me have his babies from day one, but nothing stuck. The old bastard kept calling me barren.
Throat closing, my mind echoes with his insults: barren, worthless, cursed. All those years, he had me thinking I was defective.
“Well, are you?” Rowland breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Not to my knowledge.” My teeth worry at my bottom lip. “I’d know, wouldn’t I?”
But my mind’s already racing. We’ve fucked every day since Rowland met with Blanche’s attorney and received the inheritance, sometimes twice or three times a night. I’ve been too happy to even recall something as trivial as bleeding. Shit.
“Stay there.” He leans me against the wall and opens the bathroom cabinet.
I’m so mesmerized by the scars on his back that it takes a moment to notice he’s extracted a pregnancy test. My stomach flips again. Of course, he’s been planning for this. Every time we fuck, he growls about getting me pregnant.
“Pee on this,” he says.
I take it with trembling hands. The plastic feels strange, like I’m holding a grenade. Rowland watches me perform the test, and we both stare at the little window in silence.
Minutes crawl by like hours. The plastic stick sits between my fingers like a loaded gun. My heart drums so hard I can feel it in my throat. I stare at the display, unable to stand still. Rowland hovers at my side, his gaze burning the side of my face.
The second line appears, and my jaw drops.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
Rowland falls to his knees and grabs me by the hands. I glance down, my breath catching, to find his eyes glistening with tears. Reverence shines in his gaze, pure admiration as he looks up at me like I’m the answer to every prayer.
“Marry me, Annalisa,” his voice breaks. “Be mine forever. Make me the happiest man in this world.”
The words hit me like lightning. This is real. This isn’t a delusion, a dream or a desperate fantasy. Rowland is offering me forever. My throat closes. This is it. The moment I strove for during all those years of running from one disaster to the next. A man who wants me forever, not just for the night. The answer comes to me as easily as my next breath.
“Yes.”
Rowland pulls me down to his level and kisses me like I’m oxygen and he’s drowning. “Today,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I can’t wait any longer. Not when you’re carrying my child.”
“What? How?”
“There’s a church nearby. If you can drive us, I’ll make it happen.”
“O-okay.” I laugh through tears.
He jumps to his feet and rushes to the bedroom. I follow, still dizzy from the pregnancy news, finding him rummaging through the wardrobe. Moments later, he extracts a flat box and places it on the bed.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Open it,” he says, his voice breathy.
