Page 48 of Pas de Trois
“Oh, well, it’s possible to do now with blood samples from both parents.”
“Both of the potential fathers are recently deceased.”
The doctor’s eyebrows slant in toward his nose in consideration. “If you have access to the deceased remains, I think it can still be done. I may need to consult with a geneticist. I know of one who can be discreet in this matter.”
“Fine,” Renata replies. “Lorenzo can put you in contact with Murphy O’Shea before you leave. Murphy has graciously made the arrangements to handle both of the deceased in our time of grief.”
My eyes practically roll out of my head.
He nods. “Good. I’ll go speak with Lorenzo. And please ensure Anya gets the rest she needs. Her body is overtaxed and it’s not good for her or the baby.”
Renata dismisses the doctor and turns, glancing from me to Anya to Luca on the floor. “Luca, serve Anya breakfast. Eggs, toast, and fruit. Make sure she eats it all and clean up after her when she’s done. Ezra, come with me.”
She brushes past Anya with a conflicted look of disdain and moves toward the open archway that leads back to the foyer. Luca rises from the floor, moving about the kitchen as if everything happening here is perfectly normal.
I look at Anya. She tilts her head toward Renata’s retreating form, mouthing the word, “Go,” with pleading eyes.
How can she be so strong after everything she’s been through?
How can she be strong enough to still be ordering me around and making sure I don’t make things worse?
I’ve said it before and it’s still true now—she’s a goddamn beautiful powerhouse.
I walk toward her. She’s standing in the path I need to take to follow Renata, and she stays intentionally, knowing I’ll have to pass by her on my way through. Our eyes are locked as I come closer.
I choose to walk between her and the island, even though the space is narrow. I should walk around her on the other side, but I can’t help myself. I squeeze into the narrow space, brushing against her body as I move past. I catch her palm in my hand for the briefest moment, just for a quick squeeze of reassurance.
Fuck, that was a bad idea.
The small touch is a lightning strike, a shockwave of connection that sears through my skin and burns through my soul. She gasps and I know she feels it, too.
I’m forced to let go as I stride past, Renata looking back impatiently from the bottom step of the staircase in the foyer. But I dare to steal one last glance over my shoulder at my glowing girl. She covers her smile with a cold expression, but her eyes hide nothing from me.
I’m the man she melts for.
I’m the man who knows what lies beneath the surface.
I’m the man she loves.
