Page 148 of Sinful Blaze

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. I don’t think she knows just how much she soothes the beast inside me. I definitely don’t think she realizes just how dangerous that beast is.

It’s the same beast those whispers constantly warn me not to become.

“My father was the same way. When Mama was pregnant with me.”

Daphne shudders. “What happened?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. Power corrupted him, maybe. Or maybe he was always a terrible human being. All I do know is that I never got to see the kind or loving version of him. I only knew the disciplinarian, the dictator. The terror in my nightmares who beat my mother and me if we so much as breathed wrong.”

She sucks in a gasp. “Pasha. I am… I’m so sorry.”

“He’s dead. You don’t have to worry about him.” You just have to worry about me turning into him. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m alive because my mother fought for me. She stood up for me. She never let anyone shove me aside, even when it was her own husband trying to do it. He’d beat her bloody for defying him. And yet she never stopped fighting for her children.”

Daphne’s chin falls to her chest. “And here I am, a total chickenshit over lunch breaks and doctor appointments.”

I touch her jaw with my fingertip until she raises her face again to look at me, albeit reluctantly. “Head up, Daphne. Never down. Promise me that. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Only if you promise not to shut me out. No more silent treatment. And,” she adds, “no more barging into my office. And no more outing my secrets. And no more using my own logic against me. And?—”

I laugh and drag her back into my arms as she dissolves into teary giggles. “I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” I growl in her ear as she laughs and eases and unclenches from head to toe.

And as she unclenches, so do I. And so does the air, it seems. One bit at a time until it’s finally easy to breathe again and I realize that I’ve been holding onto every inhale for the last six hours.

“Are you hungry?” I ask when Daphne’s laughter fades. “I can cook for you.”

She tilts her head to one side. “Later, I think. Right now, I just want to sit with you. Reconnect. Just… be.”

“You’re asking a lot,” I warn with a chuckle.

She pulls a stern expression and jabs a finger in my face. “Sit here, mister, and don’t move. I’ll even be nice and not make you talk about your feelings anymore.” She wriggles her body down the couch and settles her head onto my lap.

There’s no way it’s this easy. This simple. Daphne smiles up at me, then closes her eyes and just lies there. Doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t ask me to do anything else.

Just… be.

What a fucking concept.

It’s not long before she drifts to sleep. Still right here, on my lap, nestled in close. I rest a hand on the firm swell of Daphne’s womb. Our daughter flutters and kicks against my palm.

“I’m here, baby girl.” I should feel ridiculous talking to a stomach, but I don’t. “Daddy’s right here. I had no idea you or your mama were gonna show up like you did, but I’m so glad you did.”

Daphne stirs in her sleep. I hold my breath, waiting for her to wake up, but she doesn’t.

She trusts me enough to stay.

56

DAPHNE

“You better get going! You don’t want to be late,” I half-giggle, half-moan.

Pasha growls against my neck, “I don’t want to be leaving at all. I’d rather bend you over the table right here and have you for breakfast.”

I swat at his wandering hands. One of us has to be responsible, and it looks like that’s me today. “You already ate. Twice.” I bite back a moan when he nibbles the sweet spot near my shoulder. “And there’s no bending me over anything. I’m the size of a beached whale.”

“Won’t stop me from trying.”

“You’re terrible!” I exclaim with a laugh. “Now, go. Shoo! I need to get everything ready for your mother’s birthday.”

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