Page 103 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

Sophie emerges, wearing the white Bella Rosa robe Basil directed her toward, the belt cinched securely around her waist as though she suspects Caleb and me of plotting its immediate removal.

An entirely reasonable suspicion.

She stops a few feet away and looks between us. “A spa day?”

Her tone suggests Basil might have announced an impending tax audit.

I move toward her before I consciously decide to. My fingers find a loose strand of hair near her temple and tuck it gently behind her ear. The simple contact sends the same low surge of possession through me that burying myself inside her did last night.

That should concern me.

It doesn’t.

“You deserve to be pampered after everything you’ve endured.” And everything we have planned.

She blinks. “I’ve never had a spa day.”

Of course she hasn’t.

Sophie will wire money across the world for her mother without hesitation and work herself into exhaustion for a client. But she will never spend a penny on taking care of herself.

“It’s your honeymoon,” I say simply.

“You can’t keep spending obscene amounts of money on me.”

“Let’s go,” Caleb tells her, interrupting the argument I’ll never let her win.

Moments after the door closes, Basil informs me Lorenzo is ready for me.

I take a private elevator to the private lounge that few people know about.

It’s a true haven from the Vegas experience: dark wood, supple leather, quiet. There are no visible cameras, which undoubtedly means they are there but very discreet.

By the time Caleb joins us, Lorenzo is already pouring Bonds whiskey.

“Lucian. Caleb.” He hands us each a glass. “How’s married life?”

“Everything I imagined.”

Caleb lifts his glass. “How’s Zara?”

Lorenzo’s expression immediately softens. “She keeps me on my toes. The baby is growing fast.” His mouth tips at one corner. “Another one on the way too. We’re keeping it quiet for now.”

Caleb’s grin is immediate. “Congratulations.”

“Family changes a man.” Lorenzo taps his forefingers together. “Makes him sharper.”

Inevitably my mind goes to Sophie.

To the rings on her finger. And, without warning, I see her pregnant.

Sophie with her belly round beneath my hand. Sophie carrying our child. Caleb’s and mine, whichever of us gave it to her first hardly mattering because the child would belong to all three of us.

The image hits with enough force that I take another drink.

The hunger has simply found another direction.

“You understand.” Lorenzo’s gaze has sharpened as though he knows exactly where my thoughts went. He has always been irritatingly perceptive.