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Leia burst into tears.
His insides shredded at the sound of her sobs. Knowing she needed the release didn’t make it any easier. He held her until her sobs turned to sniffles. Picking her up, he undressed them both and stepped into the heated tub with her. He cradled her in his arms until the sun rose and she woke from a light doze.
He suffered through watching her eyes cloud over as memory returned. Cupping her jaw, he stared down at her. “Do I have your permission to destroy the motherfucker now?” he rasped.
Her eyes lost a shade of distress and her jaw flexed against his fingers. “You find the deepest, darkest pit and I’ll bring the shovel.”
Paddy called just after midday. The description given by the delivery guy matched Stephen Willoughby. The detective, probably wanting to prove Paddy wrong for the incompetent dig, went at the case like a dog with a bone.
Not that Noah minded.
He had Tim and Harry on the case too, getting them to use their software to scour traffic camera footage within a ten-mile radius of the condo.
After this was all over, he was going to make those boys richer than their wildest dreams.
For the thousandth time, his gaze drifted to the sofa in his study where Leia was sleeping. His chest expanded at the sight of her relaxed faced and softly parted lips.
He loved her.
Fuck, he loved her so much, he didn’t know how his body wasn’t consuming itself with the force of his feelings.
After this was over…
He laughed under his breath. Yeah, after this was over, he was going to do a hell of a lot of things. Starting with taking steps to make Leia Michaels permanently his.
Until then, he had two assholes to wrangle down.
Sucking in a deep breath, he clawed both hands through his hair, then tensed when his phone rang. Looking at the screen, he cursed under his breath.
Ashley.
He’d signed her up with a private OBGYN and the private chef she’d insisted she needed to maintain a healthy diet during the pregnancy. Beyond that, they communicated strictly by email because the sound of her voice filled him with loathing. And he was paranoid enough to imagine his unborn child could be adversely affected by hearing the anger he couldn’t control every time he spoke to his ex-fiancé.
“I thought we agreed on a precise means of communication that did not involve me speaking to you?”
“Please don’t be mean, Noah. I just… just wanted to hear your voice.”
He swallowed his angry retort and took another breath. “Is everything all right?”
“With me or the baby?”
“Take the question at face value and answer it.”
“We’re both fine.”
“In that case, there’s nothing to talk about?—”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“I have an appointment tomorrow. Will you come with me?”
He frowned. The OBGYN had sent him a schedule ofeverything expectant parents needed to do before the birth. He had nothing in his diary for tomorrow. “Is it routine?”
“No, but I felt a fluttering this morning and I want to check that everything is fine.”
His boulder slammed into his chest. “Define fluttering,” he ground out. He hadn’t asked for this baby, but he couldn’t dismiss the protectiveness he felt toward it.