Page 54 of Hidden Heir With His Housekeeper

‘I guess neither of us is perfect then,’ she said softly, her lips quirking. ‘How annoying.’

His brows lifted, the stunned disbelief in his eyes almost as painful as the ache in her chest where her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised it didn’t burst.

He covered her hand with his, drew it away from his face then threaded his fingers through hers and held on. ‘You don’t want to leave me?’

Her lips lifted and she shook her head as it occurred to her that this was the easiest answer she’d ever had to give anyone.

‘I told you I love you. Now do you believe me?’ she asked.

His green eyes turned a rich emerald, the wicked sparkle making her heart hurt. ‘If you say so, Princess.’

Lifting her fingers to his mouth, he pressed an earnest, reverent kiss to her knuckles. The familiar awareness sank into her abdomen.

‘If it’s any consolation,’ he added, ‘I think I love you too.’ He glanced down at her stomach. ‘And the bump.’

Her eyebrow lifted. ‘You think, or you know?’

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. She clasped his shoulders, looking down into his harsh, handsome face as the rich emerald softened with love.

‘I know,’ he said.

She grinned down at him. Their baby’s movements fluttered in her belly, as if it was adding its approval. ‘You’d better not forget that when the bump is waking you up at two in the morning, wanting to be fed.’

He laughed, a deep, throaty, relieved laugh which made the joy spread and glow in her chest. ‘You do know you’re the one with the equipment to sort that out, right?’ he offered, the arrogance she had come to adore returning.

He lowered her slowly, then reached inside her robe to caress said equipment possessively—and reiterate his point.

She clasped his wrist, the giddy need firing down to her toes. But she looked him straight in the eye when she said, ‘I guess that leaves you on nappy duty then.’

They were both still chuckling as they fell onto the bed to concentrate on tearing each other’s clothes off.

EPILOGUE

One year later

‘UPYOUGO, Princess Trouble!’ Mason grinned. The Riviera sunshine sparkled on the water of thecastello’s new infinity pool as he boosted his tiny daughter into the air.

Her belly laughs as he caught her again had him beaming back at her. Then his own laughter burst free when she kicked her arms and legs furiously—which was her not so subtle way of demanding Daddy do it again,immediately.

At eight months old, Ella Carys Angharad Foxx was an absolute tyrant who had her father wrapped firmly around her plump little finger. Her mother had warned him he was creating a monster. But he adored hearing his daughter’s laughter and he hated hearing her cry—so he was usually very amenable to her requests.

But when she rubbed her eyes, while trying to launch herself out of his arms again, he realised this was one of those times he was going to have to disappoint her.

‘That’s all, Cinders,’ he said, touching a finger to her adorable button nose, which was starting to look slightly pink. ‘We don’t want you getting a sunburn or Daddy will be in the doghouse tonight.’

And he had plans for this evening which did not involve soothing an unhappy baby, because it would be the anniversary of the day he’d told her mother the truth about his past, and she’d decided to love him anyway.

The smile sank into his heart as he tucked his daughter under his arm to wade out of the water. She carried on wriggling and chortling, because she thought this was a brand-new game. There would be tired tears in his near future when she figured out this new game was called naptime.

He walked over to the pool loungers, where Jack Wolfe was reading a book of fairy tales to his oldest son, Luca.

The four-year-old pointed at one of the illustrations. ‘Mummy says that’s you, Daddy,’ the little boy announced.

‘Your mother said I was the big, bad wolf? What the...?’ Jack frowned, managing to cut off the swearword, while sending Mason a wry look.

‘Own it, bro,’ Mason replied, laughing as he grabbed a towel and began stripping off Ella’s sunsuit.

He and Jack had become fast friends, ever since the guy had offered to walk Beatrice down the aisle at their wedding that spring—because her father had resolutely refused to do it unless Mason paid him five grand for the privilege. He had considered paying the money because he knew Beatrice still struggled with her father’s refusal to speak to her, but Jack had advised him not to.

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