“You need to sit.”
My ass connects with the soft chair. “I am sitting. Happy?”
“You need to rest.”
“I am fine.”
He drags a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I want you, God, I want you. I’m hard as fucking stone, but you fainted, baby, and....”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t overthink it. It’s hormones. I hear it makes us pregnant women?—”
“Needy?” he finishes silkily. “Hungry?”
Okay, maybe he could just talk, and I’d get my clitoral stimulator, and we could make this work. Right? Because his voice is sexy.
Stupid, traitorous body and dumb, moronic hormones.
He traces my lips with a finger, and I resist, strongly, the urge to bite him, taste him. “Give it a few days, and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give it to you hard and soft, and every which way.”
The asshole. He knows what he’s doing. He’s trying to seduce his way into my bed…again. I’m about to tell him to go fuck himself when the bell above the door jingles.
“Hello, where is my beautiful, pregnant flower goddess?”
We both stare, transfixed by the vision that steps in.
The woman standing in the doorway looks like she stepped out of another era—perfectly waved red hair, fire-engine red glossy lips, and smoky eyes. She radiates warmth and confidence, all polished opulence and easy kindness, like Rita Hayworth inGilda.
Nick’s face transforms: his joy is unmistakable.
“Daisy.” He walks up to his…sister, hugs her, lifts her off the ground, and swings her around. Their closeness and affection make my heart ache. I wish I had that with Maggie.
“It’s been so long.” He sets her down and looks behind her. “Is Kai with you?”
Kai, I’ve learned, is Daisy’s son, and Nick absolutely adores the kid. He’s shown me pictures of him, and tells me how he can’t wait for Kai and our baby to become best friends.
This is what a real family feels like.
Feels nice.
Her gaze lands on me and softens immediately. “You must be Enya.”
I nod, standing up. She hugs me. “I’m Daisy. I hear you scared the hell out of my brother.”
I don’t know what to do. She’s a big-time celebrity and so glamorous. How the hell am I always out of place no matter where I am? With my father and my sister, and now with Nick andhissister?
“I…hello.”
Very witty, Enya. That’s how you win people over and make friends, with witty repartee like that.
Good God!
She laughs, bright and affectionate. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. I had an endless shoot in Tibet, and came straight here when Dom blew up the family chat about your trip to the ED.”
Her gaze flicks over me—not critically, just observant—and I suddenly feel every inch of myself. My pale-yellow summer dress has never looked more like it’s been rescued from a charity bin than it does standing next to Daisy.
She’s in a raw silk wrap dress that skims her body as if it were designed specifically for her. The fabric catches the light as she moves, patterned in soft jewel tones that somehow feels both casual and impossibly chic. Gold bangles are stacked loosely at her wrist, and oversized sunglasses are pushed into perfectly waved red hair.
She’s the kind of woman who looks expensive even when she’s dressed for comfort.
