Page 24 of Merciful Lies

“Is that it?” Anna asks him. “Are we married?”

“Yes. You’re married now. Um, congratulations, Mrs. Fury. If you ever need anything, the doors at St. Aloysius are always open to you, my child,” he says, and looks a little concerned.

Fuck that.

I frown.

“You’re dismissed.”

Luc nods towards the door and Preacher dips his chin, collects his things and leaves.

I turn to Anna.

My wife.

She’s staring at nothing. Her big brown eyes look dull, and a feeling of unease creeps up my spine.

“Let’s go,” I say, noting it’s past midnight and I’m sure she could use some sleep.

“What? Oh.”

She gets up and I stare, watching her gracefully lift herself from the chair despite being off balance with her growing belly.

I never thought of pregnant women in sexual terms. But knowing Anna is swollen with my child does something to me.

It stirs something in my loins, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say in my heart as well.

But I’m not a touchy feely guy. The fuck did I know about feelings?

I touch my hand to the small of her back and I guide her out of my office, trusting the biometric security system I have in place to do its job.

“The car is in the back. Need anything else, Boss?” Luc asks.

“No.”

I steer Anna down another small hallway. It’s easy to miss, and purposely designed that way.

No one uses this exit besides me, Angel, and Luc.

I lift my hand to the scanner and the door unlocks, and I take Anna by her elbow. Carefully, I keep her by my side as we walk to the big SUV.

My driver has the door open, and I glare at him until he steps back.

I don’t know why I’m acting like this, but suddenly I feel fiercely possessive of the curvy woman who was now my wife.

I hold her door open for her. Then I let go when I see her contemplating her next move, her small hands on her swollen tummy. Stepping behind her, I lift Anna by her hips onto the seat.

“Thanks,” she mutters, and I grunt my response, making a note to have a runner installed.

She’s at least a foot shorter than me and in her condition, it’s not easy to climb into the truck.

The ride to my place takes about twenty minutes with all the lights and traffic. Anna is quiet for the duration.

When we pull up outside the building I own under my corporation, Viper Enterprises, her mouth drops open.

“You live here?”

“We live here,” I correct her.

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