I smiled softly in the subdued light, watch our son shut his eyes, his long lashes creating dark fans across his cheeks. “He's so… peaceful.”
“He's wonderful.” The sentiment in Lucas's voice was apparent, filled with delight as he gazed at his son through my eyes.
“Did you know? That Nememiah had… messed with my pregnancy to make sure he'd be okay when he was born?”
“Yes.”
“But you couldn't tell me?”
“No. As you well know, there is much we cannot speak about.”
I watched our son for a moment or two, hardly able to believe he was here. “We've never discussed names. Did you have anything in mind?” I asked.
“I'd always thought if I had a son, I would name him after my father,” Lucas suggested.
“Patrick,” I said. “I love it. But I want him to have your name, too.”
“Patrick Lucas Duncan. It's a fine, strong name for our son.”
I shook my head and corrected him. “Patrick Lucas Tine.”
I could hear the smile in Lucas's voice when he spoke. “Thank you, my Charlotte. Now go and introduce Patrick to his extended family, before Marianne's excitement overwhelms her and she tackles Jerome to the ground in her quest to get past him, to you.”
With a happy grin, I took his advice, walking slowly into the main area of the tent which was doubling as a hospital ward. It was crammed with people – Conal, all the Tines, Nonny, Epi, Nissa, the Lingard boys, Matt, and Misaki.
We were immediately surrounded by the Tine women, all cooing and smiling at Patrick while the others stood back a little and looked on with unconcealed delight.
“He is absolutely gorgeous,” Rowena announced.
“Would you like to hold him?” The worries of my life fell away as I slipped into proud Mommy mode, wanting to share the perfection of our son with everyone I loved.
With an elated grin, Rowena settled Patrick into her arms, her face filled with affection as she gazed down at his sleeping face.
Matt stood beside us, watching the tiny baby in Rowena's arms and he kissed my cheek, wrapping one arm around my shoulders. “My first grandson.”
“Patrick,” I said quietly. “His name is Patrick.”
“Lucas's father was named Patrick,” Ben said and he offered me a brilliant smile, obviously pleased with our choice.
“Little Paddy,” Striker announced with an impish grin, peering over Rowena's shoulder at the tiny bundle in her arms. “Oh, the things I'm going to teach you, Paddy, when you get a bit older.”
“Striker, don't you dare—” I began, but Holden brushed me off.
“Lott, you don't get a say in the matter. As one of his five vampire uncles, our sworn duty is to teach him all the mischief he needs to get into, isn't that right?”
Ripley sniffed. “Speak for yourself, Holden. For my part, I shall be teaching this young man a love of the classics, and good manners.”
“I'm sure he'll get into plenty of mischief on his own,” Misaki laughed, brushing her fingers over Patrick's curls. “Won't you, you little heartbreaker?”
In response, Patrick opened his eyes briefly, gazed around at the faces of those surrounding him, and then settled back to sleep.
“You are going to be the most spoiled little boy I know,” Gwynn predicted, as Rowena carefully handed Patrick to her. “Your Aunt Gwynn is going to adore buying you gifts.”
“And so is Tante Acenith,” Acenith added, cooing at Patrick and brushing a finger over his tiny hand. He curled his fingers around hers and she beamed.
Patrick was passed from one person to the next, everyone fussing over him and I watched on, absolutely delighted at their pleasure. I didn't notice Conal slip into the empty spot beside me until he wrapped his arm possessively around my waist and kissed the top of my head.
I met his gaze and he pressed his lips to mine. “Let's go home,” he suggested huskily.
With an elated smile, I turned to Matt, who had a besotted look in his eyes as he cradled Patrick. Misaki stood beside him, her finger in Patrick's tiny grasp. “Okay, Grandpa. Hand over my son.”
Matt dropped a kiss on Patrick's forehead before he gave him back, and I savored holding my son in my arms. Saying our goodbyes, Conal guided me out of the hospital tent, walking slowly beside me as we made our way through the rows of tents.
Pushing open the tent flap, Conal stood back and let me go inside first. Like all the tents in the camp, his tent was austere and lacked any great comfort. A single bedroll lay on the floor with a crumpled sleeping bag on top, and a pile of Conal's clothes was piled in one corner.
“Sorry, Sugar. Things are pretty basic.”
I smiled. “I don't care.”
Conal glanced around the small tent, a crease appearing over the bridge of his nose. “Where's Paddy gonna sleep?”
Before I could summon an answer, Epi called from outside and Conal held open the tent flap to let him in. Epi strode into the tent, lugging a little cradle in one hand, and a bedroll and sleeping bag in the other. “You will need somewhere for Patrick to sleep,” he announced gruffly, depositing the cradle on the floor. “I've arranged a guard outside the tent, to ensure your safety.”
Conal smiled warmly. “Thanks, old man.”
“The child must be protected,” Epi said grumpily, eyeing Patrick in my arms. “We gave our word to Nememiah. Of course, it's yet another thing to worry about.”
I managed to quash the grin that threatened when I saw the adoration in Epi's eyes as he watched Patrick. “Thanks, Epi.”
He turned to leave but stopped at the tent entrance. “The child will need some form of sustenance; I assume?”
“Uh, yeah.” I glanced at Conal, startled by this revelation and Conal shrugged. Obviously, Patrick would need feeding, diapers – all the things we hadn't prepared for with his abrupt arrival.
Epi heaved a profound sigh. “I will arrange things for you.”
I planted a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you. I love you, you know.”
A blush suffused Epi's wizened features and he muttered something incoherent under his breath as he left the tent. Conal zipped up the flap as I laid Patrick carefully in the cradle, ensuring he was securely wrapped.
Straightening up, I discovered Conal gazing at me and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, the movement flexing the muscles underneath the tight white t-shirt. I swallowed nervously. My nerves were on edge after the events of the what had proven to be a very long day, and finding myself alone with Conal was overwhelming. I wasn't sure what to do, what to say. We'd made love, fought, made up and now – I wasn't sure exactly what to do.
Conal stepped towards me, his eyes focused on mine and I ran my tongue over my dry lips. Catching my hand in his, he wrapped his arms around my back, holding me close for a long time.
“Let's go to bed,” he suggested huskily. He took the bedroll Epi had delivered and unrolled it on the floor next to his, before throwing the sleeping bag over the top.
I nodded, weariness settling over me like a heavy blanket. “Conal, I…”
“Let me make this simple for you, Sugar. I love you and I want you more than I've wanted any other woman. I want to make love to you, but after everything that's happened,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I'll understand if you just want to lay in my arms and sleep.”
“It's not just that, I—” Blushing furiously, I stared hard at the ground. “Even though I'm not sure I can get pregnant again…” The words tapered off and I rubbed my hands together nervously.
Conal grinned, thrusting a hand into the pocket of his jeans and producing a pile of small foil wrappers. “You don't have to worry, Sugar. When you made that public announcement about us having sex, Jerome made sure we were protected.”
I bit my lip nervously, working to compose my nerves and control my acute embarrassment. Glancing up into Conal's dark eyes, I rested my hands against his chest, brushing over the hard muscle beneath my fingertips. I t
raced a path up over his t-shirt and cupped my hands around his neck, drawing his face down to mine. Brushing my mouth over his, I tentatively ran my tongue across his bottom lip, inhaling his musky aroma as he tightened his arms around me, pulling me against his body.
Aligned perfectly against one another, the evidence of his desire pressed against my belly and he took control, his mouth demanding as he kissed me deeply. He swept his hands over my back and buttocks, lifting me up against him.
Rapidly losing grip on my self-control, I clung to him as he carried me, his mouth never leaving mine. He lowered me onto the bedroll before breaking free of my lips.
He dropped his gaze over my body and started to leisurely ease my t-shirt up and over my head.
“You're absolutely beautiful, you know that, don't you?” he questioned huskily, following the curve of my breasts with hungry eyes. He lowered a single finger onto my shoulder, tracing over my collarbone, then drew a line down from my throat to where my breasts strained towards his touch. With infinite slowness, he slipped his fingers beneath the delicate lace bra and ran a thumb over one nipple, making my back arch.
Conal grinned, unhooking the bra and I blushed when he removed the scraps of lace, his eyes focused on my breasts with unconcealed longing. “Absolutely breathtaking, Sugar,” he remarked with a growl.
In a swift movement, he ripped off his own t-shirt and lay beside me, his skin warm against mine. He brushed over one nipple with his thumb, lowering his mouth to suckle the other.
Despite my anxiety, I moaned in approval and arched up towards his mouth, wanting more, needing everything he could offer.
I reached for him, intent on doing some exploration of my own, but Conal caught my hand, interlinking his fingers through mine. “Easy, sweetheart. Our first time was too fast. This time, we're taking it slowly and I want to explore every single gorgeous inch of you.”
With a delighted smile, I laid back and allowed the emotions he evoked to overwhelm every other thought in my mind. All I needed – everything I wanted – was right here in this tent with me.
Chapter 22: What Now?
Rolling over on the bedroll, I draped one arm over where Conal should be – and hastily opened my eyes when I discovered him missing. Turning over, I scanned the cramped living quarters.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Conal cradled Patrick in one arm and was feeding him a bottle, his harsh features softened as he gazed down at the tiny bundle. The image was a lesson in opposites – Conal's big hand cradling the tiny bottle, his dark coloring a stark contrast to Patrick's fair skin. Patrick's fist gripped Conal's little finger, his whole hand incapable of circling the distance. I rose on my elbow, pulling the sleeping bag up over my naked breasts. Conal glanced up and smiled warmly. “Morning, Sugar. In fact, it's good afternoon.”
My gaze fell on Patrick again, reassured by seeing him here and confirming it hadn't all been a dream. “I didn't hear him cry,” I admitted.
“You were out of it, sweetheart. The little guy and I have been getting acquainted, over a couple of bottles of the hard stuff.”
I frowned, unhappy. “I've missed feeding him twice?”
Conal's smile was mischievous. “After all the drama in the past couple of days, plus making love three times last night,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “seems reasonable you were exhausted.” He took the bottle from Patrick's mouth, balancing it carefully on the floor and lifting Patrick onto his shoulder, patting his bottom lightly. He was rewarded by a loud belch, Patrick's little head rocking backward with the effort. “Nice one, buddy,” Conal murmured as he cradled Patrick in the crook of his arm and slipped the nipple back into his eager mouth.
I smiled, delighted by the montage. “You're pretty good at this.”
Conal returned my smile, his dark eyes warm. “I've had some practice. Someone in the pack is always having a baby and I'm godfather to fifteen at last count.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Popular guy.”
Conal chuckled. “How are you feeling? You're still talking and not shouting, so things are looking up.”
I rolled my eyes and scanned the floor for my clothing. “Okay, currently.” A glance at my watch confirmed I was overdue for another injection. “Better not take any chances, I should go and see Jerome.”
I dropped the edge of the sleeping bag and pulled on my bra and t-shirt, then slipped out of the sleeping bag to pull on underwear and jeans. Conal's smoldering gaze left no doubt that he was thinking about our lovemaking and I blushed furiously.
“You're gorgeous when you do that, Sugar,” he admitted hoarsely.
“Are you okay with Patrick?” I inquired softly.
“Sure, Paddy and I are doing fine.” Catching my anxious glance toward Patrick, Conal reassured me. “I'll finish feeding him and we'll meet you at the mess. Go take a shower, see Jerome.”
I leaned down to drop a kiss on Conal's mouth, lingering for far longer than necessary. Kissing my fingers, I touched them against Patrick's forehead, then slipped out of the tent.
Nissa was outside and she grinned when I made an appearance. “I'm on security duty, Angel. I'm guarding you and Nick is to guard Patrick today.” She inclined her head towards Nick, who was leaning against a nearby tree, his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled and winked when he heard his name mentioned. “Afternoon, Lottie.”
“I was beginning to suspect you were never going to get up,” Nissa remarked, falling into step beside me. Wearing black denims and a pale blue cotton shirt, her silky black hair was pulled back in a loose braid. “I assume all is well with you and Conal?”
I didn't miss the cheeky grin that Nick tried, but failed to hide as we passed him. “Shut up, Nick.”
“After the trouble you've caused, Lottie Duncan? I think I deserve to smirk a couple of times.”
I shook my head and kept walking, ignoring him and the low chuckle which echoed down the pathway behind us. “Things are well,” I responded to Nissa's query before a bright smile radiated across my cheeks. “Wonderful, in fact.”
Nissa smiled, her orange eyes twinkling. “He is an exceedingly attractive man.”
“Yes, he is.” We stopped by the tent I'd shared with Nissa and I grabbed fresh clothes. Nissa waited while I took a quick shower and then we strolled down to the hospital tent.
“You're late,” Jerome grumbled when we arrived.
“I slept in.”
“Feeling better?” he queried while he prepared the shot.
“Much better.”
Jerome grinned. “I think we'd better discuss birth control.”
Flushing crimson, I lowered my gaze. “I guess so.” I glanced up into Jerome's calm gaze. “You're still not sure I could fall pregnant?”
“No, but Epi will have apoplexy if you announce you're pregnant again,” Jerome admitted. “And I'm sure you will both prefer birth control pills to the solution I offered Conal.” He paused, placing a small round Band-Aid over the skin where he'd inserted the needle. “I could run some tests, see if we can give you a definite answer regarding your fertility.”
I shook my head. “Right now, we've got bigger problems. Getting us all back to Zaen, for one.”
Jerome gazed down at me, his eyes serious. “Don't rush it. You've had a great deal to cope with in recent days. Don't overdo things.”
I jumped down from the gurney and smiled brightly. “I promise I won't overdo things.”
Jerome turned away to wash his hands. “Now why don't I believe you?” he muttered. “See you in four hours, and I'll have the birth control pills ready for you.” He waved me away, like a pesky fly. “Now go, get out of here. You should eat, get your strength back.”
Nissa and I walked toward the mess, making slow progress because we were stopped every few feet by members of the group, wanting to talk, or to welcome me back, and I was introduced to some of the new people. The familiar ache materialized in my head, as the new spirits infiltrated my mind.
“Charlotte!” Nonny hurried
over, throwing her arms around me in an affectionate hug. “I'll get you something to eat. What would you like?”
I pursed my lips, thinking for a few seconds. “I don't suppose you have any chicken enchiladas?”
Nonny chuckled. “It just so happens that I do. Would you like coffee, or are you in dire need of a stronger caffeine fix?”
“A stronger caffeine fix,” I admitted wryly. It had been a long time since my last coffee and I craved a caffeine hit.
“Chicken enchiladas and one can of Coca Cola, coming right up. What about you, Nissa?”
Nissa screwed up her nose and managed to make the movement seem elegant. “I think I will try some of these chicken…”
“Enchiladas,” I supplied helpfully.
“Enchiladas,” Nissa repeated, pronouncing the word carefully. “And coffee, please.”
“You know caffeine is addictive, don't you?” I questioned teasingly, and Nissa looked at me in alarm. My smile grew wider when I caught sight of Conal sitting at a table with Marianne, Misaki, Gwynn, and Striker. Nick had settled a table away with Rafe, Acenith and Ripley, and Gabrielle. Patrick was nestled in Marianne's arms and she and Striker leaned over him, smiling and cooing.
Conal noticed our arrival and watched me with smoldering eyes, his thoughts completely readable from across the tent. I slipped into the chair beside him and he leaned over, capturing my mouth in a lengthy kiss.
“All right, you two,” Striker grumbled good-naturedly. “Anybody would think you hadn't seen each other in months.”
I rolled my eyes at him and turned my attention to my son. He was sleeping peacefully in Marianne's arms, his tiny face relaxed. “Hand him over, Marianne.”
She pouted, screwing up her pretty face. She'd added a piercing through her lip while I'd been in the Realm, I noticed. “You have to eat,” she countered.
“Marianne, hand him over, I can do both.” I ached to hold Patrick, wanted to seize any opportunity to hold him close.
Marianne stood up and placed him carefully into my arms and I savored the warmth of his tiny body against mine. Conal draped his arm over my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
Knowledge Protects (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 5) Page 16