Page 143 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“Well,” Mary said, glancing around the penthouse. “No helicopters hovering outside so that’s an excellent start.”

“Ivan is working on them being banned in the area,” Hudson said.

She narrowed her eyes. “That was a joke.”

“Ivan wasn’t joking.”

“Of course he wasn’t. That man thinks he can organize anything. He should be Prime Minister.”

She shoved her arms out of her coat.

“You need to eat,” I said.

“I need to sleep.” She looked at me then handed over the coat. “I’m going to fall over.”

“I’ll take you to your room.”

“My room? Will I always have a room of my own, or…”

Hudson’s mouth curved upward. “We have a pack room. Ready for the day we found an omega who chose us.”

“You do?” She smiled suddenly alert. “I’d love some toast with loads of butter on.”

“Come on.”

Later, after Sienna left for the guest suite and Hudson went to take a call from Pax about an emergency injunction, I found Mary in her bedroom. Not the pack room.

The door was half open.

I stopped before knocking because her voice reached me first.

Her palms rested on her stomach. “Please at least one of you be a girl.”

Mary sat cross-legged on the bed in the middle of her nest, wearing one of my old rugby shirts and nothing on her feet. The shirt came nearly to her knees. Her hair fell over one shoulder, dark and wavy.

The London lights glimmered beyond the glass behind her.

“Four men in the apartment will be a nightmare.” She hesitated and smiled. “Then again, I suppose being the only female might be good. Being the only omega will be even better. I’ll be spoiled by all the alphas in the house. And I’ll probably get away with anything.”

She looked down at her belly as if the babies were listening.

“But then there’s the...” She sighed. “No, please be girls. Or at least one of each. I can handle girls.”

My throat tightened.

“And I promise Mama will spoil you.”

I put one hand against the doorframe.

Mary bent closer to her stomach. “Oh, and P.S., thank you for not making me sick anymore. You’re being really good babies.”

I backed away and found Hudson in the corridor. He had come looking for me, phone in hand, brows drawn. I touched his shoulder. He stopped. I placed one finger to my lips, then nodded toward the open door.

We crept back toward the room.

“And no rugby,” Mary added, her Irish accent so strong now. “I’ve seen your father. That sport is why his naked thighs are for my eyes only. I’m not complaining about that, but you know I’ve seen the ears of some of those players.”

I covered my mouth. Hudson closed his eyes as he looked into the room as if the sight of Mary speaking to our children had reached some place in him he kept locked even from me.