Conception

by Sarah McCarty

  Chapter Ten

  Deuce was apparently as serious about the naming as he was about everything else. He’d started nagging her about it four steps out of Marlika’s room with a question about her preferences. A simple statement that she didn’t have one only led to questions designed to narrow the options to areas she would like. He was like a dog with a bone when he got something in his head, and he now had it in his head that the baby would be named. And that she would participate. She sighed, admired the way the muscles splayed out from his spine and the flexing of his tight butt beneath the jeans as he opened the door to their apartment. Naming their daughter clearly topped his to-do list.

  Eden followed Deuce into the dark apartment, flicking the light switch as she passed through the door.

  The baby squealed.

  “Damn it!” She pushed her hair back from her face, the lingering echo of the infant’s cry cutting into her like a knife. “I can’t see in the dark like you,” she explained as Deuce turned, pulling the baby’s face protectively against his chest.

  “It is fine, Eden.”

  It wasn’t fine. She wasn’t doing anything right. She motioned to the grunting bundle in his arms. “Is she okay?”

  “She was but startled. No harm was done.”

  “This time.”

  “New parents are not expected to know everything.” He motioned her to him.

  She stayed where she was. “But this is different. This baby is not like others.”

  “She is of her parents. There is no difference.”

  “But she’s half vamp—Chosen.”

  “This is what you fear?” He eradicated the distance between them in three long strides. His free hand skimmed up her neck, curling along the underside of her chin, tipping her face up to his. “That because her blood is of both worlds, somehow she does not need her mother?”

  “I can’t do anything for her.” It came out as a whine, and she hadn’t meant for that to happen.

  The pad of his thumb pulled her lower lip free of her teeth. “You will love her, my heart.”

  His words were as much of a lure as his touch. She stiffened against the temptation. “You can’t make me.”

  His hint of a smile was the gentle one he usually reserved for the baby. “I would if it were necessary.”

  She blinked. Could he control her emotions to that extent?

  His thumb slipped down the inner curve of her lip, gliding smoothly on the moist lining, sending spiraling trills of pleasure dancing down her spine. “But there is no need, is there?”

  She didn’t answer, just squared her shoulders and matched his smile with a glare, increasing the intensity as his amusement spread to the corners of his mouth. He dropped his hand to her shoulder and turned her toward the bed. “Come.”

  Like he gave her any choice. The hand on her shoulder was insistent. She didn’t know if he was projecting or if she was supposing, but she had no doubt he’d pick her up and carry her if she planted her feet. “You are way too bossy.”

  His “You like it” was completely unconcerned.

  She planted her feet at that. “What makes you think that?”

  He took the last step to the bed, laying the baby down before tossing his hair out of the way and looking back at her over his shoulder. “Your pleasure flows when I give you an order.”

  He could not mean what she thought he meant. She crossed her arms over her chest, mortified to her soul. “It does not.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You are wet now.” There was no way she could call that relaxation of his facial muscles anything but satisfaction. “It pleases me.”

  It was a hard choice whether to pray for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow her, or to brazen it out. She settled for the latter. “I’m getting you a set of nose plugs.”

  “You may spend my money as you please.”

  He said that with a nonchalance that she took to mean no matter how many nose plugs she bought, he wouldn’t be wearing them. The muscles on his back moved under his skin, the golden flesh gleaming darker in the low light, the hollows beckoning her hands, her tongue. Mindlessly, she took a step closer. And then another, until she was close enough to touch.

  Deuce reached back and caught her hand, pulling her into his side, linking their fingers as he rested his arm across her shoulders. “Look at her.”

  It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She looked down. While she’d been admiring him, he’d been undressing the baby. The little girl lay in the pink blanket, arms and legs akimbo, her dark blue eyes wide with wonder as she stared up at them.

  His arm tightened across Eden’s shoulders in a hug that lingered as softly as his proclamation. “Our daughter is perfect.”

  Tears burned her eyes. How was she supposed to keep a strong front when he said things like that, with all the love he felt for his child just hanging out there for the world to see? She blinked the tears back. “I’m glad you like her.”

  The baby kicked her feet, and froze, as if the ensuing jerk of her body came as a surprise.

  Amusement joined the pride in his voice as he tickled the bottom of one tiny foot. “She is learning about the world. She will find many surprises.” The stroke of his fingers on Eden’s upper arm punctuated his chuckle as the baby jerked away and then promptly pushed her foot back, as if searching for the sensation again. “She will need the love of her father and mother to guide her through them.”

  He made it sound so easy, so imperative. “You can’t make me do this, Deuce.”

  “She already loves you.”

  “She doesn’t know who I am.”

  He shook his head, his hair brushing her cheek as it fell forward. She blinked once, twice, fighting the breakdown that battled for release. “She feels your love and your turmoil, but mostly your love.”

  She bit her lips and took a stabilizing breath as his cheek rested on her head. If they were any other couple, this would be a tender moment, rather than just a painful one. “You can talk to her?”

  “Yes.”

  “With your mind?” The baby looked too innocent to be telepathic.

  “Yes.”

  This time, she had to blink long and hard to keep from embarrassing herself. “I didn’t know she could do that.”

  “She is very intelligent.”

  From the amount of paternal pride packed into Deuce’s tone, their daughter could be a blithering idiot and he wouldn’t care. To him, she was a miracle. What more could she ask? “I’m glad.”

  It was too much to hope that he would miss the catch in her voice. There was no fighting the pull of his arm, the kindness in his touch, or his power as he pressed her cheek to his chest, enfolding her in his strength. “I promise you it will be all right, my heart. You were strong enough to survive, to bring yourself and our child to me. You did what you had to, but you need to let go now. I am your mate, your strength, your voice.” His finger under her chin brought her face up. She didn’t know black eyes could be so soft. “You will entrust to me the safety of yourself and our daughter.”

  He made it sound so easy. Beneath her palm his heart beat with the same surety in his gaze. But he didn’t know what he was up against. “I can’t.”

  His hand traveled the length of her spine with excruciating slowness, reaching the base of her skull, stroking the nape of her neck before tangling in her hair. He pulled her head back, fully exposing her vulnerability. “You will.”

  “I know you think you’re strong and can take on anything, but—”

  He shook his head, brushing his lips over her cheek and finally her nose. The kisses were so light as to be chaste. There was no reason for her pulse to kick into overdrive or her breath to get caught in her lungs. “You will not deny me my pleasure.”

  “Getting killed gives you pleasure?”

  “Having you and Jalina does.”

  She was beginning to accept it really was that simple for him. That straightforward. She kissed his breastbone where the bulge of
his pectoral muscles carved out a seductive channel. Overwhelmed and grateful to God or his Maker, to whoever had chosen him to be her daughter’s protector. “Thank you.”

  He held her mouth to his skin, moving it a little to the right, the hard flesh under her lips swelling with his indrawn breath. “I would prefer your thanks without sadness.”

  She propped her chin on his chest to meet his gaze, running her tongue over her lips, her senses delighting in his lingering taste. “I’ll work on it.”

  His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as his hand opened over her right buttock. His fingertips lid into the crease, riding it down before snagging on the slight indentation of her anus. Her knees buckled. He caught her weight on his middle finger. Shock and a dark desire held her immobile as her muscles parted the tiniest bit. Red lights flashed in his dark eyes. He tugged her up against him, so the hard ridge of his cock bit into her stomach. “See that you do.” The baby whimpered. He stepped back, his hand gliding away from her ass. Eden grabbed the bedstand to steady herself.

  Deuce cast her a knowing smile as he reached for the infant. “She chills,” he explained as he picked her up.

  The fog around Eden’s brain cleared. “You called her Jalina.”

  “I apologize.” He tucked the infant against his chest. The baby immediately snuggled in, her fussing quieting.

  “It’s a pretty name.”

  He paused, his hand on the baby’s back freezing mid-rub before slowly resuming. “There are many choices.”

  But he liked this one. From the sudden poker face Deuce had adopted, he’d probably been calling their little girl Jalina in his head for a while. “What’s it mean?”

  “The best translation would be the light of hope.”

  “I like it.”

  “It is a strong name, signifying the hope she brings to the Others and the Chosen, and the hopes they have for her.” Still that too careful tone.

  She put her hand on his arm. “Deuce?” For the first time ever, he was slow to look at her. Could he be embarrassed? She squeezed his arm. “It’s a good name.”

  “You do not object?”

  How could she? It was perfect. “Not at all.”

  “It is decided then.” He held the baby away from his chest, cradled on her back in his big hands. “Step into my arms.”

  “Why?”

  “It is custom.”

  She knew how strongly he felt about custom. She ducked under his arm.

  “Turn your back to me and hold the baby as I am.”

  She tried to do as he ordered, but her hands weren’t as big as his. Jalina wobbled. Her limbs jerked out straight, and her face screwed up as she teetered. Oh shit, she was going to drop her!

  The thought didn’t reach completion before Deuce was there, his hands under hers, lending his support to hers as naturally as breathing. Jalina settled, her breath pushing her little ribs against Eden’s hands, her skin the softest thing she’d ever felt. Deuce pressed up with his palms, raising her hands and the baby until they were face level. His voice flowed into Eden’s ear and over her skin, into her mind, becoming more than sound and less than substance. Becoming part of her. “The Chosen welcome you, Jalina Knight. May the Maker smile upon your existence and rejoice in your life as we do.”

  The edges of the room shimmered with an ethereal glow. Power radiated inward, raising the hair on the nape of her neck. The shimmer turned to a pulse and then exploded. Eden staggered under the flood of energy that surged into the room, falling back against Deuce, who stood solid against the wave. Even Jalina didn’t move, as if she were too in awe of what was happening to fuss. Deuce held them within that incredible field until it slowly ebbed, and then with a flash, it winked out as fast as it had appeared.

  “What was that?” she asked when she could catch her breath.

  “The Chosen have welcomed our daughter.”

  Eden straightened cautiously, half afraid the tremendous energy would come back. “Humans just send a card.”

  She glanced up quickly enough to catch what just might have been a smile on Deuce’s mouth. “Chosen ways are different.”

  “I’m beginning to see that. So what was…that?”

  “A greeting.”

  He lowered their hands, bringing the baby against Eden’s chest. The baby’s face worked. She was either trying to smile or pass gas. Eden gave her a smile, surprised when the child stared as if fascinated. “That was more than a greeting.”

  “All Chosen recognize Jalina’s energy now. She can never be alone or lost.”

  It was the nicest thing he could have said to her. Eden tugged her hands free. As soon as she was sure Deuce had Jalina, she turned and wrapped her arms around his lean waist and hugged him with all the relief she felt. Nine months’ worth of worry rolled off her, leaving her lightheaded. She could trust her child to this man. Her baby was safe. Jalina was really safe. “Thank you.”

  Deuce didn’t move for a heartbeat, then his lips brushed her head. “You are welcome.” He raised his arms so she could duck under. “When our daughter is settled, I would not object to a demonstration of your gratitude.”

  Eden bit back a grin and shook her head. “You just had to go macho on me again, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “It is the Chosen way.”

  “That must be a damn handy excuse to have on hand to trot out.”

  His head tilted ever so slightly to the side and he smiled. She supposed she should take that as an answer.

  * * * * *

  Eden watched from the bed as Deuce lay the satisfied, sleeping baby in the crib Dak had brought. She was thinking about nominating him to sainthood. He’d handled changing a diaper with his usual calm efficiency, demonstrating none of her disgust. He’d even praised Jalina for the size of the deposit, rebutting her shock with the calm truth that it indicated a healthy digestive system.

  She shifted higher, smiling when Deuce glanced over. She didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to hide her weariness from him, but she wanted to try. He was so pleased with his daughter that she hated to do anything that would ruin this moment.

  As soon as he looked away, she closed her eyes briefly and leaned back against the headboard, fatigue beating at her resolve. She pushed it back with the ease of long practice, again meeting Deuce’s gaze with another easy smile. Deuce frowned as he straightened, his black eyes raking her from head to toe and then back up again. When his gaze stopped at her chest and a purely predatory smile turned up the corners of his sensual mouth, she looked down. The neckline of his too big shirt had slipped again and damn near half her breast was exposed. She yanked it up, ignoring the hot flare of interest her body expressed at catching his eye. “Pervert!”

  His laugh was a seductive blend of low tones that skated along her nerves in a tangible caress. “A man noticing a beautiful woman is normal.”

  “But you’re not a man, are you?”

  He stalked toward her—at least she thought he stalked. She had the impression of being stalked but in reality he seemed to glide with an effortless grace that was hypnotic to watch. In the time it took to blink he was in front of her, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb tilting up her face, locking his gaze to hers. “Chosen or man, however you choose to think of me, I am all you will know from here on out.”

  That was just too much. She caught his wrist and pushed. “Who I date is my business.”

  She should have saved her strength. Her hand slid down his arm, but he didn’t budge. He was incredibly strong. Physically and mentally. But she was no weakling. She’d blocked him before. She could do it again.

  “As long as you date only me, our future will be harmonious.”

  “Maybe I have a thing for someone else.” The effort of keeping him out of her head was making it ache.

  His touch softened and his gaze rested on her mouth. “You do not.”

  “There’s no way you can know.”

  His thumb came to rest on her lips. “I know.”


  She didn’t know if he was reading her mind or not, but she knew there was one thing he could never know for sure. “You can’t know about the future.”

  She felt his start in his touch. At last a weakness. ‘“You can force me now all you want, but eventually, I’ll be strong and when I am, I’ll make my own choices, which may or may not involve another man.”

  His expression went from fierce to calm. His thumb pulled her lower lip down. Fire pooled in her belly. His smile broadened as her breath caught. “Determining your preference will be my responsibility.”

  “You can’t control everything.”

  “I can control you.”

  “Like hell!” Pain shot through her temple. The good old-fashioned kind that came when she tried to do too much on too little food and too little rest.

  He frowned. “You tire.”

  “I’m fine.”

  His fingers skimmed up her cheeks. “Your head hurts.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “I will have food brought.” His fingertips brushed her temples, once, twice and then settled into gentle soothing circles. She didn’t bother to protest or pull away. Healing a headache was no doubt high on his mate to-do list and she didn’t need another argument right now.

  “What would you like?”

  “You have food here?” Saliva flooded her mouth. Her heart picked up its pace and her breath shortened in breathless anticipation. “Real food?”

  “This surprises you?”

  “I just don’t think of vampires as eating.”

  “Chosen do not, as a rule, but the Pride and Pack do.” He smiled. “An inordinate amount of food.”

  His fingers pressed a little deeper, drawing her pain and discomfort away.

  All the cravings and dreams she’d had over the eight months she’d been on the feeding tube rushed her defenses and spilled into that zone.

  “Do you think I could have a salad?” She tried to keep the hope down to a minimum. Paranormal critters were probably big into meat. “And maybe some fruit?”

  Oh God, it had been so long since she’d had fruit. She curled her fingers into a ball to hide the shaking the thought of eating again brought.