Page 70 of Shark Bait

“Sixteen,” Alessio repeats, probably doing the math on where she was sixteen weeks ago and, more importantly, with whom. Valerina keeps her love life private and off-limits to Alessio, probably because her brother is mental when it comes to safety and security. I have a good idea who Valerina is messing around with, and Alessio won’t like it when he finds out. Not even a little bit.

“Did Tatiana talk about your pregnancy after examining Troy?” I ask.

Val swallows. “Yes.”

“Which one of you is having twins?” Alessio asks.

Val lifts a hand. “A girl and a boy.”

Alessio taps his knee. “Congratulations, sister.”

“Thank you,” she says.

“Does their father know?” he asks.

She shakes her head.

“Do you plan to tell him?”

“Eventually.”

“If he doesn’t step up for the kids and I find out who he is, I’ll tear the skin off his back and make you a diaper bag out of it.”

I lift my hand. “I’ll help.”

Troy’s watching us, rubbing her belly.

I watch her. “What happened in there that got you crying?”

She shrugs. “The baby is doing so well that I got emotional, is all.”

“Anything else?” I prompt.

“We’re having a girl.”

I take her hand and bite the side of her wrist for making me wait this long to hear the good news. I kiss the bitten spot, then hold up her hand. “You’re keeping the ring?”

“It’s on my finger, so it’s mine.”

“Don’t forget who put it there.” It didn’t escape my notice she used “we” instead of “I” when talking about the baby. She won’t marry me today, but someday.

TWENTY-FOUR

BOY BAND

TROY

After getting engaged, with the possibility of a forced marriage, having a mini breakdown in the corner of my OB’s office, getting a therapeutic intervention, and finding out I have a healthy baby girl on the way, I felt like I had a good enough reason to cry myself silly.

Which I did.

Then, the moment I arrived at Valerina’s, I went to bed and napped for two hours.

I woke up groggy, with messy hair, still wearing the wedding dress, which wasn’t at all wrinkled. Sitting up, I pat my belly and spot the ring on my finger. It’s so big, it demands attention.

I can’t imagine a man spending this much money on someone he doesn’t like. Or love. But how can he possibly love me? I’m almost eight months pregnant…with Shark’s baby. He’s claimed my baby already, with the conviction I hear in his voice and in the way he treats me. Besides, if this baby is anyone’s, it’s his. He saved our lives.

I look up and spot Shark coming through the courtyard with a tray. I get the front door, and Shark walks in with a bowl of what looks like chicken soup, which he sets down on a roundkitchen table set for two. A white purse hangs from his shoulder, and he drops it on the couch.

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