Page 19 of Baby Daddy Protector

“Wow. I’m amazed at all the things I’m not allowed to do while I’m pregnant,” I said later that night. I was dutifully lying with my hips raised on a plump pillow beneath the covers after another round of baby-making sex with Z. Surprisingly, he hadn’t bailed right afterward this time. Instead, he was kicking back in his boxer briefs in a chair near the bed.

He glanced up at me from the security reports he was going over. “Seriously? It’s a bit soon to be reading that, don’t you think?”

I flipped the book over to stare at the cover ofWhat to Expect When You’re Expecting. “Just like to know what I’m in for, I suppose.”

Z grunted then went back to his reading.

“Anything interesting in there?” I asked him a short time later, surprisingly grateful for his company. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Nah.” He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Just your run-of-the-mill death threats and stalkers.”

I reached one leg over and poked him hard with my toe. “Not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be. You need to take all of this stuff even more seriously now that you’re going to have a baby. Though, no, I don’t think there’s anything overly concerning here, even if a couple of these whack jobs seem to have quite a bit of intel on you.”

“That’s unsettling.” I shimmied a tad further under the covers, Z’s scent surrounding me. I’d pulled on his T-shirt tonight after sex because one of the websites I’d been researching had suggested that having his pheromones close by would make my body more receptive and thus increase my chances of conception. And yes, I realized it was most likely a bunch of malarkey, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Besides, Z had said I looked cute in it, so there was that. The thought that he found me attractive sent shivers of happiness through me despite my determination to keep this all strictly business.

“Right,” Z said, setting his reports aside then stretching, showing off all his muscled limbs and tanned torso to perfection. “So, tell me what’s on this no-no list.”

“No-no list?” I narrowed my gaze on him, my smile wry. “Well, let’s see. No deli meat. No soft cheese. No motorcycle riding. No sushi. Limited caffeine.”

“Ugh. That’s no fun at all.”

“Agreed. Though surprisingly, there are no restrictions on getting a tattoo.”

“Really?” Z stretched out on the bed beside me and peeked at the page. His heat made the entire right side of my body tingle in the best way. “Huh. Who knew? Guess it makes sense though, as long as it’s a reputable shop where they clean and sterilize everything properly. Usually Hep B and HIV are the biggest concerns when needles are involved. Learned that from the guys when we were overseas. Some of those places weren’t careful at all.”

“Yikes.” I shuddered. “Is that why you don’t have any ink?”

“Nah, not really.” He covered his eyes with one arm. “My philosophy is if you’re going to get something permanent on your body, you’d best make sure you’ll want it around forever. So far, I’ve not found anything or anyone to put my ‘forever’ faith in.”

“Good point.” I closed my book and set it aside, then rubbed a hand over my flat stomach. “Maybe I’ll get a tattoo once I get pregnant, to commemorate the struggle.”

“That’s a bad idea, princess.”

Confused, I frowned over at him. “Why? Lots of people do it, and you just said yourself it’s safe, if done right. Why shouldn’t I get one? A baby is an important time in a girl’s life. Might be nice to have a physical memento of that.”

“No. Too many things could go wrong, that’s why.” Z rolled on his side to face me, his blond hair tousled and sparkling golden in the light from the bedside lamp. It was close to midnight now and the world was silent around us, making it all seem very cozy and intimate. “Think about it, princess.”

When he called me that, it made my insides quiver. Which was silly. It was my official title. Thousands of people called me Princess Esme every day. But none of them said it with that hint of sexy growl and fierce alpha-protectiveness that Z did. Heady stuff, that.

Z continued, unaware of the riot of need his deep voice caused inside me. “If you get one, it has to be something you’ll want to wear forever, like I said. Something you have forever faith in. What if something goes wrong with all this?” He waved a hand over my body. “Or what if you don’t end up getting pregnant at all? Worse, what if you do get pregnant, have the baby, and end up losing your throne anyway? That’s still a very real possibility, much as I hate to say it, princess. Is that a memory you’d want to wear around with you forever?”

I looked away, arms crossed. “There are never any guarantees in life. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith or do things that don’t make sense at the time because they just make you feel good in the moment. Don’t you ever just want to break free, have some fun?”

Z snorted. “Fun’s overrated.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

My mind wandered back to the conversation I’d had with my father earlier that day about Z’s past. Things between us seemed more relaxed now, more open, and I took a shot. “Tell me about your time in the SEALs. Surely you had enough faith in them to get some kind of tattoo, right?”

“A lot of the guys did. I didn’t.” He sat up and turned away, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and putting his back to me. He hunched over and raked his hands through his hair. “Suffice it to say, I don’t really have that kind of faith in anyone these days.”

I wanted to reach out and touch him, to erase that hint of melancholy in his voice, but from his body language, he was shutting me out again. The air around me turned colder, and I snuggled down farther beneath the duvet. “Could you though? Someday? Maybe if we have a baby together and—”

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