“It’s not funny,” I chide.
“No, but I like it when you make a fuss over me.”
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I take the glass and put it on the coffee table. “We better get you to bed before those pills kick in.”
I’m turning for the door when he locks his fingers around my wrist and pulls me back to him.
I shoot him a questioning look.
His expression goes from teasing to serious. “Thank you, Anya.”
I consider him for a moment. The truth is Idocare. Despite everything, it matters to me that nothing should ever happen to him. It matters very much.
“So this is how it’s going to be,” I say in a soft, sad tone. “You disappear on me for hours, and I’m beside myself with worry.”
He cups the back of my legs and brushes his thumbs along the seam of my ass. “It doesn’t have to be like this. I know how to handle myself. You don’t have to worry.”
“Then tell me where you’re going.”
He pulls me down onto his lap so that I’m straddling him, gazing into my eyes as he says in a gentle voice, “I can’t. It’s for your own safety.”
Not only because I may leak something to the cops but also because I may break and give up information that could get him killed if his enemies should torture me. Yes, I get that.
“At least wake me up before you leave,” I whisper.
His answer is to frame my face between his palms and to kiss me, but this time, I push him away.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the tests?” I ask.
He stabs his fingers into his hair. “What difference would it have made?”
All the difference. “Did you consider adopting?”
“It was the first suggestion I made. Rachele didn’t want to. She wanted to have her own babies.”
“What about artificial insemination?”
“It wouldn’t have been mine, and Rachele wanted to give her father what she called a legitimate heir and not a child she had with some stranger.”
“That’s harsh.”
“That’s how it works,tesoro. In our families, a heir is the most precious and most powerful gift. Blood is everything. In the end, that’s all that matters.”
“Is that what you want? A heir?”
“What I’ve always wanted was to be a father.” His chuckle is wry. “I suppose it’s to make up for the one I didn’t have when I grew from a boy into a man.”
“I’m sorry, Sav.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for everything you lost.”
“I knew Rachele didn’t love me, but I thought if I gave her everything, she’d learn to love me, or that, at the very least, she’d want to stay.” His laugh is ugly. “I couldn’t give her everything, could I?”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No.” His voice is harsh. “It’s a defect.”
“It doesn’t make you less worthy.”
“It makes me less of everything.” He skims his knuckles over my cheek. “But you won’t understand that, sweetness. You weren’t raised in our world.”