Page 30 of Captured By the Bratva

Or, rather, each timewepassed her.

Emily patted, then grabbed at my hair. Her fingers were small but mighty as she gripped tight, testing how hard she could play.

Gritting my teeth, I reined in my annoyance and tried to turn my head to the side and discourage her. It hurt like a bitch, but if it made the baby happy, if it kept her quiet, whatever.

She blinked up at me, sucking on her pacifier as I held her. Gazing into her innocent eyes never failed to hit me hard.

What did kids—infants—think about?

What did she think of me?

Why did she want to be carried nonstop?

What was so bad about sitting down?

Did she see in color?

I Googled about a baby’s vision last night, curious, and I got hooked on the fact that at birth, as eyes developed, they made out black and white, high-contrast pictures best.

Was that why she kept staring at my tattoos?

Questions and curiosities ballooned every time I stopped to think about what her perspective on her short life was so far. Being near a baby was a new experience, but it wasn’t a bad one. Different, but not awful. Every time I tried to help Becca handle her with this fussiness, I learned how to hold her better, how to balance her in my arms and multitask. How to adjust to the slow way she seemed to want to take over my life.

Margie finally answered, and Emily reached for the phone again, giving up on my hair.

I shifted her to higher in my arms, keeping my phone between my shoulder and head.

“Hey, Margie.”

“I am on vacation, sir…” she answered in a teasingly scolding tone.

“I know. But I need your help.”

This housekeeper was the only motherly figure we’d had at the mansion for years. All of us brothers appreciated her help and guidance, and she was the first one I’d thought to call for help.

“With what, Ivan?” she asked.

“A baby. My… The…” I sighed. She could be trusted, but I simply didn’t know what to call Becca anymore. While she remained locked here as a hostage, I had to face the possibility that she had been an ineffective one so far.

“A baby. She’s teething, according to her mother, and…”

“Is her mother there?”

“Yes.” I glanced again at Becca’s sleeping form on the couch. “But she’s tired and overwhelmed. She’s been suffering from allergies, but maybe it’s a cold. I just need some help with the baby.”

“Hmm.”

I could picture her now. Trying to see me dealing with a baby had to be a comical image for her. And yes, she was on vacationthis week, but she hadn’t actually gone anywhere. Mila insisted on her not working for at least five whole days because she feared the workaholic was burning out.

“Okay.” Her reply came quickly.

“I’ll arrange for transportation.” I smiled as Emily grinned at me. I’d kill a man who dared to witness this baby softening me up, but dammit, her charm was infectious.

“I have no doubt you already have someone coming to get me now,” she quipped.

“Maybe.”

We disconnected the call, but I bided my time walking with Emily. She wasn’t heavy. I didn’t have anything else to do until this evening, taking a call with Yusef to check in on any possible sightings of Murphy in the city.

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