Page 38 of Conail (Members From Money Season 2, #150)

"Oh, Christ," Conail had to swallow the golf-sized lump in his throat as he stared at his son.

"Hey there, little guy. It's Daddy." He rested his chin on top of his wife's head.

"I love you." He stroked her cheek. "No, it's not enough.

" His voice broke and had her looking up at him.

"I adore you." He felt the emotions storming through him and knew he had to rein things in for now.

"I know." Understanding perfectly, she lifted a hand to his cheek. "I know, darling."

*****

"That husband of yours finally allowed you out of the house." Maeve clicked her tongue as she gathered her grandson carefully into her arms.

"Barely." Yasmine stretched contentedly as she stared at her son. He was a week old already, and to her prejudiced eye, he was the most gorgeous baby in the world. He had taken to the breast like a pro and was sleeping until four in the morning.

"He vowed he was going to tie me to the bed if I stayed out too long."

Maeve swaddled her grandson and felt the love overflowing. "He's overprotective."

"And dismissing the idea of another child."

Her mother's eyes flew to hers. They were in the kitchen, and the scent of apples and cinnamon permeated the air.

"Isn't it too soon to bring that up?"

Yasmine shrugged and pushed back her chair to pour another glass of lemonade.

From the window, she could see the gardens blazing with a variety of colors and could hear the humming of machinery as her brother and the men he had hired performed their duties.

The farm was now doing exceptionally well, especially since her husband had invested, pouring resources in to make it viable.

The greenhouse was flourishing, and her brother had converted her old room into a nursery for their baby.

In a couple of months, there would be a new addition to the family.

"I don't want him to be an only child," she murmured, stopping by her mother's chair to plant a kiss on his forehead. "He's already spoiled. Between you and Eleanor and Dad, as well as Colin and Maddy, he's going to be rotten."

"Oh, nonsense." Maeve brought him closer to take a sniff, loving the scent of powder and baby oil.

"He's going to be just fine. Aren't you, darling boy?

My Christopher." She kissed the soft cheek and reluctantly put the sleeping baby in his mobile.

"What's your husband's reason for not wanting another baby? "

"The drive to the hospital when I was in labor has him traumatized." She rolled her eyes. "He still brings it up."

"Honey, I hate to remind you, but you were in pain since early in the morning, and you insisted on going to that function. What were you thinking?" Peeking at the baby to make sure he was still sleeping, Maeve took out pots and pans with the intention of basting chicken.

"You sound like my husband."

"I agree with him. Now, let's discuss the christening."

*****

"I thought I'd find you here." He slipped into the nursery quietly. "Is he sleeping?"

It always gave him a jolt to see his son suckling at her breasts.

"Just about." Tipping her head up, she waited for his kiss before handing the baby to him. "He needs to burp."

"I know the drill." Lifting his son up over his shoulder, he rubbed his back gently until he heard the burping sound.

"One more for Daddy?" He rubbed again and smiled at the loud burp.

"There you go." Cradling the baby in the crook of his arm, he rocked him slowly, watching the fight to keep his eyes open.

"To bed with you." Putting him in the cot, he pulled the blanket up and rubbed his small shoulder.

He just stood there staring at the tiny miracle they had produced.

"He's getting bigger."

"Of course he is." He turned his head as his wife came to wrap her arm around his waist. "He eats like a horse."

"Are you still insisting on giving him just breast milk? Didn't the doctor say that it's safe to introduce formula?"

"Nope." She shook her head. "Not until I cannot produce the milk." She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. "He's looking like you more each day."

"He has the shape of your lips, I think."

She spared him a glance. "Really? That's the best you can do?"

He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "Trying to be helpful. I love you."

"You'd better."

They both continued to stare at the sleeping baby for a few minutes more, and then he nudged her gently but firmly out of the room.

Their bedroom was bathed in moonlight streaming through the treated glass, allowing them to move about without the aid of the lamp. She was already dressed for bed. Climbing in, she watched as he undressed and came to join her.

"You smell of citrus," she murmured as she snuggled against his lean body.

"I had to take a shower at the office." Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her forehead.

"Should I be concerned?"

His gray-green eyes twinkled with humor, something she was still trying to get used to.

"You should. I had to go out to several farms to do a demonstration of the new tilling machine, including your parents' place. Suffice it to say that it was not child's play. I think your brother and I are finally seeing eye to eye."

"Meaning that you two are not ready to come to blows?"

He grinned at her. "Something like that.

We're mature adults with wives and children.

At least, he's about to be a father. We have examples to set.

" He turned his head to face her, eyes wandering over her face.

Motherhood had done little to change the shape but had somewhat added a distinct glow to her complexion.

She was letting her hair grow, and the healthy dark curls rioted over her forehead and covered her ears.

To him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and she humbled him.

Flicking a finger down her nose, he felt the familiar emotions rushing through his body.

"I thought I had it all before with Michelle," he began quietly.

"We sort of drifted into a relationship, and we had things in common -- the theater, galleries, and she loved the classics, including a good book and Beethoven.

" His eyes were on hers, but there was an expression in them that told her he had drifted to the past.

"We could talk about anything. I was intrigued by her beauty and her mind.

" He trailed his fingers up and down her arm gently.

"She was the real thing, or so I thought.

I was accustomed to women being attracted to who I am and what I represented.

" He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "She seemed different, and I fell for it.

Was giddy with it." He looked away for a few seconds before coming back to her.

"If you don't want to hear, just tell me. "

"No." She shook her head, one hand tangled in the dark hairs on his chest. "I don't want to hear it, but I need to. No secrets, no hidden pains. I already told you of my past and what I went through."

"You have, yes. And I had to stop myself from finding that bastard and rearranging his bloody face."

She smiled as she remembered his outrage for her.

"Then you know how I feel every time I see that bitch who put you through all you went through." She touched the strong chin and trailed her finger through the dent there. "But I want to thank her for messing up so badly. I have you."

His fingers clamped on her chin as he lifted her face for his kiss.

Deep, drugging, and thoroughly potent. Within minutes they completely forgot what they were talking about.

Staggered as usual, he lifted his mouth from hers.

Drawing back, he took several deep breaths.

"When?" he rasped, hating himself for asking.

"Another week." She buried her face on his chest and tried to gather her composure. Her breasts already straining and filled with milk for her son were on the verge of exploding, the nipples aching. "I can't stand it," she whispered.

"Christ!" Immediately contrite, he wrapped his arms around her. "Maybe we should sleep in separate bedrooms until--"

"Don't you dare!" She blew out a laugh as she held him tight. "We'll get through it."

He was forced to take another couple of minutes to slow his heart rate down and steady himself. When he did, he let go of her, belatedly realizing that his fingers were digging into her flesh. Blowing out a breath, he kissed her forehead.

"It was never like this with her -- with anyone," he confessed.

"I was contented with what was, never dreaming there was more.

" Tilting her chin up, he shook his head.

"I never--" He swallowed the sudden lump forming in his throat.

"Darling, I love you so damn much. You have given me the world and beyond, and there's nothing I would not do for you. "

Her hands cupped his face, and she felt the tears forming at the backs of her eyes. "I want another child. As soon as we're able, I want us to make another baby."

"Anything but that." He started to withdraw, the tenseness covering his face.

But she held on, a determined look on her own face. "I was originally a surrogate. You paid me for the service, and I--"

"You gave me back the damn money," he reminded her tersely.

"Every cent of it, even when I objected.

So, there's no arrangement and hasn't been one since I touched you.

" His hands clamped around her wrists. "You went through living hell carrying our son, and I am not going through it again.

The answer is no. Our son is going to be an only child. "

"Conail--"

"Enough."

She was about to argue the point when they heard noises coming from the monitor.

"No, let me." He pressed her back when she started to get up.

"He might be hungry."

"If that's the case, I'll bring him to you. Stay there." She made a face at the arrogant tone and watched as he left the room.

Settling back against the pillows, she closed her eyes briefly. She was going to get back to the argument, and this time they were going to finish it. This time she was going to make him understand that the first pregnancy had not really been theirs, but the second one would be.