Page 72 of Where the Wind Whispers

The other half was thoroughly mixed up in them and their crazy love.

They’d picked names in bed, naked, and Violet distinctly remembered the taste of salt and sex on her tongue while they argued back and forth about what to name the baby girl.

We’re not traditional, Kaz had murmured in her ear from behind while she was on her knees.

No, she supposed they weren’t.

So … Anastasya Liliya it was.

Jenny stood, leaving the sleeping baby in the wicker basket as she peered down at the screen on her camera. “Well, she’s a beautiful little girl. Thank you for letting me take her newborn photos. I think I got it all, so I’ll give you a call in a couple of weeks to let you know when you can pick the prints up.”

“Great.” Violet bypassed the photographer to sweep her baby girl into her arms, preferring to hold her while she napped. “And thank you for coming here to do this—I know you probably prefer to work in your studio.”

Jenny laughed, waving a hand as if to dismiss the notion. “I do, but I make exceptions. I’ve known the Markovic family for a long time—I photographed the twins when they were brand new babies. I understand that the Markovic men are a little … intense when the babies are new.”

Violet didn’t offer a response to that.

She figured she didn't have to.

The woman wasn’t wrong.

Jenny quickly packed her things and said a quiet goodbye to the still sleeping Anastasya in her mother’s arms. Violet managed to give the woman a smile, but without realizing it, she’d also hit a nerve that had been dormant for a while.

Actually, it’d been dormant for months.

Since she’d come home and stayed there—happy, safe, and quiet.

Because everything had been quiet for so long.

Kaz had every reason to be intense, as Jenny had put it. He had every need to keep his wife and child hidden from the world and protected as much as he could.

Those threats her father had made all those months ago—he’d never followed through.

Alberto Gallucci was nothing if not a man of his word.

Violet held her baby girl a little tighter, lifting her just enough to rub her cheek against Anastasya’s soft skin.

She didn’t even hear Kaz come into the sunroom until his hand was smoothing over her lower back and his mouth was pressing softly to the side of her temple.

“Happy?” he asked.

It was something he had asked at least twice a day but sometimes more ever since the day their daughter was born.

She didn’t mind.

It reminded her that he—no matter how distracted he sometimes seemed—constantly had a part of her on his mind.

“Very,” Violet said, turning to smile at him. “And it went well—she barely moved the whole time.”

Kaz peered down at the sleeping baby, a soft smile curving his lips. “I’m starting to wonder if she’s being good now because she’s saving all the hell for when she’s older.”

“Kaz! Don’t say that.”

Violet’s slightly louder tone woke Anastasya, and the baby blinked in that sleepy way of hers that said it would only take a quiet minute and she would be fast asleep once more.

Kaz didn’t let that happen, scooping the baby from Violet’s arms and lifting her to eye level so he could stare at her with a bigger grin starting to form. “Privet, printsessa.”

Hello, princess.