Page 171 of Merciless Desires

Exhausted, Ana slumps back. I cut the umbilical cord just as Dr. Federov, and a delivery team finally arrive. Federov takes over and finishes up while I bring the baby to Ana. I smile when she automatically reaches for him.

I lay him on Ana’s chest. Kissing her again, I say, “He needs a name.”

She nods and cuddles her son, smiling and crying. It’s such a beautiful sight. I can’t get close enough to them, but I pull back to take a picture for Lucy to show Sophie.

“What… What was your grandfather’s name?” she asks me, her voice hoarse and strained. “Your dad’s dad.”

I hadn’t thought about Grandpa O’Rourke in so long. He passed away years ago. “His name was James Patrick.”

Ana sputters with laughter at the irony. “I wonder if my father’s Bratva will kiss the ring of a pakhan named James Patrick O’Rourke.”

I don’t mention that I will never let that happen. I will never give my son to either my family or the Bratva.

Epilogue

Ana

With James Patrick came the sun in Seattle. That’s one way for the people of this city to accept us.

I finish his mid-morning feeding to the smell of freshly baked turkey. It’s Thanksgiving Day, and I have so much to be thankful for.

Mostly, the man standing in the doorway looking at me. Wearing a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, his bulging biceps and curved pecs take my breath away.

I have to wait several weeks before we can be intimate, and I look forward to it being just us in the act.

“Smells good,” I say.

“Sure does.”

I laugh. “You can’t mean me. I haven’t showered in days.”

“You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care how you smell. You look amazing holding my son.”

I put Darragh’s name on the birth certificate as the father, sealing our bond with this baby, half Irish, half Russian.

All trouble.

Darragh got several calls from his brothers with congratulations along with the warnings. We have to face the music in Astoria.

I have to face the trouble I’ve caused by leaving. By staging my kidnapping.

Darragh struts inside, and I hand him the baby. After a kiss, he holds J.P., as we’ve been calling him, against his shoulder and starts the burping process.

“Did Sophie eat breakfast?” I ask.

“If a bowl of sausage stuffing counts as breakfast.” He sits next to me and pulls me against his chest as well.

We still have to tell Sophie we’re a couple. Signed divorce papers from Ginny came in the mail the day I gave birth. We’re free to get married. To be a family.

We also got word that Balor hacked my trust fund. He and Eoghan are working on hiding it for me, but I insisted on them sending me something. I refuse to be helpless anymore.

“Such irony,” I coo. “I got knocked up by one O’Rourke, but I’ll be marrying another one.”

“Good thing there are seven of us. Men anyway.” He kisses my forehead. “Wait. Is that your way of agreeing to marry me?”

“I guess I am.” I look up into his green eyes. “I love you, Darragh.”

“I love you, Anastasia.” He kisses me. “So fucking much.”

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