Page 111 of The Arrangement

“I’m …” she said, struggling to sit up, “just not hungry. Between being tired, the pain, and the rawness in my throat, I feel like total crap.”

Anton licked his lips, his gaze falling down to her midsection.

“You need to eat, Vine. Something, anything. I don’t care if it’s just pudding for Christ’s sake. I know you don’t feel well, but you’re car—” Anton swallowed the words. “Eat, please.”

Fuck, he just caught himself.

It was kind of crazy how his heart outright skipped and a flurry of something unusual stirred in his gut at the thought all over again. Her abdomen was as flat as ever, and it probably would be for a while, but there was something about knowing his child was right there … thriving … that had him, his heart, and his dark soul all spread out in a variety of ways.

Terrified. Happy. Lustful. Content. Overwhelmed.

None of them really fit well together, but damn, he still felt it all.

Viviana caught his staring and coughed. Anton didn’t even act ashamed.

“You going to tell me, baby, or do I need to keep pretending? I’m a straightforward man. I never was any good at being vague. In reality, I suck at it.”

“You really do,” she said, laughing. “Did Ivan tell you?”

Anton’s brow furrowed. “No. Why, did he know?”

He’d kill the bastard.

“Are you happy?”

The sudden worried expression she sported had his air catching.

“My God, yeah … so happy.”

“Okay.” Her tiny, scratched-up hands grasped for him all over again, touching down with feather-light love and a heavy want. “Come here, please.”

“Always.” Anton reached back, his fingertips tracing the contours of her bruised cheeks, shadowing over the spots he knew must have been sore. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“You do know I’m going to be even worse now with the over protectiveness, right?”

Viviana smiled against his mouth. “Yeah. I’m okay with that.”

“Good to know.”

She did what he had asked then, too. Let him kiss her, said good morning, and whispered quiet love against his cheek. With his encouragement, she finally did manage to stomach half of the easy-to-swallow foods the hospital staff had brought her for breakfast.

Anton crawled up into the tiny bed and moved blankets and pillows around until she was comfortable and cradled in his arms. Heat danced along his palm when he laid it flat to the smooth contour of her pelvis. They didn’t move until the nurses knocked on the door to clean her injuries and change her bandages a half hour later.

And even then … he buried his face in her neck, held tight, and didn’t let go.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The mirror was taunting Viviana.

Behind her reflection, she could see the beautiful ivory lace spread out on the bed. Sure, she’d gotten in front of one since the accident, stood there more than long enough to take a list of all her injuries and scars, but this was something so much different.

“Come on, child,” Sasha said, smiling tenderly. “How can you possibly know that it won’t look good if you haven’t even put it on yet?”

How could it look good at all?

That was the real question.