Page 14 of Twins to Tame Him

“How about we call a truce, Dr. Jaafri?” he said, interrupting her. “For the sake of our sons, we will start afresh, as much as possible. We will leave our misguided reasons behind and move forward.”

It was the best she was going to get out of him—that almost admission of guilt. Something about the resolve glinting in his eyes made her ask, “What if Zayn takes longer to get close to you? To trust you? Will you abandon the whole venture then?”

Gray eyes held hers. “Patience is one of my virtues, Laila.”

“What isn’t?” she said, his words pinging over her skin.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, his eyes taunting her yet again. “This is a novel experience for me, too. There are very few times in my life that I have set my mind to something.”

“With Zayn...” Laila said, trying to parse through to the meaning in his words, “respecting his boundaries is very important and for a man who’s had nothing to do with children, you made it seamless. My mother and sister usually...” She hesitated, loath to dump her frustration with them on his head.

He sat up slowly, like a predator uncoiling itself from its resting stance. “Usually what?”

“They...crowd Zayn. They constantly demand he talk to them or force playing on him or pick him up when he doesn’t like to be touched. The whole thing riles him up and then he digs down into his bad mood. It usually takes me two to three days after they leave to reassure him that I won’t encroach on him like they did, to get him back to a routine.”

“Why not talk to them about respecting his boundaries?”

Laila scoffed. “Two-year-old with boundaries? My mother doesn’t even acknowledge mine. You should have seen her reaction when I told her I was having the babies.”

When the silence continued to build and he watched her steadily, Laila flushed. “Why does your silence feel like you’re holding back?” she bit out.

He laughed then and this was different. This was real, with a jagged edge to the sound, as if it had caught him by surprise and he didn’t have enough time to run it past a filter. The Charming Playboy filter. “You’re very clever and perceptive, ne? Glad our boys have one parent to inherit smarts from.”

“I know better than anyone who you are, Sebastian. But since reminding you of how I know that might spoil the mood, I shall not. Why did you laugh?”

“Because you pinned me spot-on. If you marry me, I can deal with your mother. I can deal with anyone who doesn’t respect my son’s boundaries. Zayn is just as special as Nikos,” he said with such sudden aggression in his words that Laila felt like he’d sliced open her biggest fear for her sensitive son. “I’d hate for anyone to make him think otherwise.”

His fierce support of Zayn made emotion surge through her. The yogurt felt sticky in her throat. “I agree. If I thought Mama or Nadia were causing him harm, I’d cut them out of our lives without another thought.”

He nodded. But even their mutual agreement seemed to stir up tension between them.

Laila felt it in the pit of her belly, a taut thread tugging her this way and that. It was so new to her...this restlessness simmering under her skin. Along with the long, emotional day she’d had, it was a bit much to take in. Her breath shuddered as she tried to contain all the different emotions vying for attention.

Two seconds later, she almost jerked out of her chair when gentle fingers danced over her ankle. She looked up to find Sebastian had moved to a closer chair in front of her. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve had a long day,” he said, bringing her foot to rest on his thigh. When she remained stiff in his hold, he looked up. “It’s okay. You can let go for two minutes.”

She hadn’t cried on long, hard nights when it felt like the boys would never settle or when her career seemed to stall because she couldn’t give it her hundred percent and when the bills seemed to pile on. And yet now... A sudden sob burst through her. Swallowing against it felt like fighting an incoming tide and a small part of her wanted to drown.

She could feel his shock in how his fingers stilled. “Are you okay, Dr. Jaafri?”

Laila tried a mockery of a smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me...the whole thing is hitting me now, I think, and...”

“You don’t have to apologize. I understand,” he said in such a tender voice that Laila forced herself to look away. She was afraid that that tenderness, real or fabricated, might just be her undoing.

Sebastian didn’t let her think, though. He nudged her foot farther into his grasp and his nimble fingers pressed into her heel and the painful arch and the sore digits, and he was kneading and pressing with such gentle, firm strokes that she felt like she was floating away on some fluffy cloud, as far as possible from hard, cold reality.

Leaning against the back of her soft chair, she threw her head back and closed her eyes. The man could weave magic with those fingers, and not just on her feet. Tension lingered but more crept in—this languorous sense of well-being she had never tasted. With her heel tucked snugly against his abdomen, which was a slab of rock, something else stirred beneath the overwhelming relief. She groaned when he switched to the other foot, hitting an especially sore spot.

“Will you throw in these foot massages daily if I agree to your condition?” She meant to sound jovial. But her body betrayed her, making her words sound like a husky invitation.

His fingers stilled on her ankle. With a lock of jet-black hair falling onto his forehead, his mouth wreathed in that wicked smile again, he looked exactly how she’d dreamed of him for three years. “Try me and see, Dr. Jaafri.”

Wordless, breathless, she pulled her feet back. When she stood up, tiredness hit her like a full-body slam at her martial arts class. “Thank you for...everything.”

“I did no more than the minimum expected of me today.”

“You really believe that, no?” she said, picking up her spoon and the empty bowls.

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