‘My relocation.’
My stomach drops. My heart spikes. My entire world rearranges itself in a single beat.
‘You’re really planning on moving to Ireland… permanently?’
He doesn’t even hesitate. ‘Of course.’ He turns his head, blue eyes burning into mine with terrifying certainty. ‘I refuse to be across an ocean from my baby. Or from you.’
My breath goes shallow. My brain short-circuits. Every rational argument I had crumbles into dust.
He gestures inside the sprawling hallway. ‘Come on. Let me show you around.’
Deeper inside the house, the foyer greets us with wide-plankedoak floors, warm and honeyed, glowing beneath recessed lighting. The ceilings are high—double-height—with exposed beams washed in pale driftwood tones. A sculptural iron chandelier hangs overhead, modern and elegant, casting soft shadows along the walls. It’s masculine, but it’s beautiful. Expensive without being gaudy. Understated power. Very… him.
That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t change everything about it if I were to move in.
Oh God, I really am running away with myself now.
He leads me into the kitchen. It’s huge, homely, and beautifully bright even at dusk. Smoothoak cabinetryruns floor to ceiling, paired with matte hardware. The island is carved from a single slab of veined marble. Beyond it, full glass walls frame the sea.
‘It’s… stunning,’ I admit, resting a hand on the cool marble.
‘It’s a house,’ he says, watchingme, not the house. ‘I’d like to make it a home. With you.’
Heat crawls up my neck. ‘Cole…’
I agreed he could be involved. Not take over. Livingtogether is a lot. I refuse to give up my independence for any man.
He steps closer, sliding a hand onto the countertop beside mine, caging me in without touching me. His voice dips into something low, rough, intimate. ‘We’ll renovate, obviously. The kitchen is good, but the rest of the house needs the best interior designer in Dublin.’ He winks. ‘Good job I know her.’
My breath catches.
He’s moving so fast.
‘And we’ll need to put in a nursery.’ His face dips to mine until our lips are mere inches apart. ‘Not just any nursery—the best nursery that ever was. Nothing less will do for my baby.’
‘Our baby,’ I remind him. I knew I’d have my work cut out with him. Good job I’ve had years of practice standing up for myself with five older brothers.
He reaches for my stomach then, smoothing his palm over my bump. ‘I know you don’t need my help. I know you planned on doing this alone, but Iwillprovide for my woman, and my baby, so stop fighting me, and let me take care of you.’
His thumb grazes my belly button; it’s the gentlest touch he’s given me yet, and somehow the most devastating. ‘You and our son deserve the best home money can buy. And I need to be where you are.’
His words hit deeper than they should. Deeper than I’m ready for.
He’s building a life here.
And he wants that life to include me.
I don’t know if I’m ready for this.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I murmur.
‘Don’t say anything.’ His eyes flare with that cocky prowess that attracted me to him in the first place. His lips brush over mine, and I swear it’s a battle to remember myown name, let alone why I should probably go home before he decides to keep me—and our baby—here forever.
‘Even if I do agree to build a home with you, I’ll never be a housewife. I’ll never give up my career.’
‘I’d never ask you to,’ he promises, earnestness weighing on his every word. Huge, hot hands roam up over my body. Deft thumbs graze my nipples as his tongue slides over mine, caressing yet claiming. Every cell in my body hums with need. Hums for him.
He tears his lips from mine and stares at me with that unwavering male intensity, as his fingers continue to tease my tight, needy nipples. ‘You’re mine, Zara. And you know it. That’s why you didn’t let anyone else touch these, after me.’
