Page 25

JENNA

I need to come. My need is a torturous ache. But as Blaise holds me, there’s something else. It almost feels sad.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, baby. I just want to make this last.” He kisses me, soft, sweet, and my heart breaks open. I’ve loved him from the start, but now I’m hopelessly his. It scares me because there’s still so much I don’t know. But the way he’s touching me, loving me. Surely, he feels the same.

“I love you,” I tell him.

His eyes close, and it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to hear it. It occurs to me that he’s said the words once to me back under the oak tree, but not again since then. Before I can think too much about that, he begins to move again.

“Come for me.” He hooks his hand under my thigh, pulling it up higher, opening me more. He sinks deeper. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

His words are a trigger, sending me flying. My body convulses, my pussy clenching and milking him as pleasure explodes and ripples through me.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he cries out, his body tensing as he continues to drive in and out of me, drawing out my pleasure.

I continue to pulse around him until with a final, powerful thrust, he comes, his dick throbbing as he empties inside me.

The warmth fills me, reminds me of the lack of birth control and the resulting baby.

He rolls to the side, and I snuggle against him. I press my face into his chest, breathing in his scent. The steady thump of his heart grounds me as my thoughts spiral. I should tell him about the baby. The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but something holds me back.

At the hotel, his whole demeanor was different, and I still don’t know what it was about.

And now this revelation about his influence on the hospital.

Throwing around his weight, or the weight of the Keans.

Who is he really? Every time I try to learn more about his past, he deflects or changes the subject.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice rumbles through his chest.

"Just… thank you. For my mom. I still can't believe you made that happen."

“Just doing what needed to be done.” His arms tighten around me, but there's tension in his voice.

Something flutters inside me. I know it’s too early to be the baby, but it makes me think of the pregnancy.

I really should tell him. He deserves to know.

But doubt keeps me quiet. For all the passion between us, for all that I love him, there are so many questions…

questions he won't answer. And yet, he should know.

I lift my head, meeting his eyes in the darkness. "Blaise…"

His finger presses against my lips. "Shh. Let's just enjoy this moment."

My courage falters. Maybe tomorrow.

Three days later, I still haven’t told him. My excuse is that we’ve both been busy. Preparations for the party are taking up a lot of both of our time. I’m exhausted and still throwing up, but I can't afford to slow down. Not after Mrs. Kean's warning about my job security.

A wave of nausea hits me, and I press my hand to my stomach.

Morning sickness doesn't care what time of day it is. I take deep breaths and find a cracker in the baggie I carry for moments such as this. It’s the remedy my mother suggested when I finally told her yesterday about the baby.

The doctors had removed her breathing tube two days ago, but it wasn’t until yesterday that her coloring and energy seemed better and I found the courage to tell her.

Her eyes widened at the news and then narrowed as she studied me. “I won’t ask how that happened, but…”

I didn’t want to admit to my mother that we didn’t use any protection. “I’m happy about it.” Nervous and scared as hell, but happy. It means another person in the family.

She squeezed my hand. “Does Blaise know?"

"Not yet. I… I haven't found the right moment."

"Jenna." Her tone carried that gentle reproach I've known since childhood. "This isn't something you can keep to yourself for long."

"I know. I just want to be sure…"

"Sure of what?"

"Of him, I guess. There's so much I don't know about him. Sometimes, he seems distant, like he's holding back." I don’t mention the darker moments from the hotel.

"He got me this heart transplant. That says something about his character."

"Yes, but how did he do it? He won't tell me anything about himself or his past."

"Everyone has their secrets, dear." Mom's voice was gentle but her eyes held concern. "And regardless, he deserves to know. He has rights and responsibilities."

I rest my hand on my still-flat stomach, knowing she's right. I need to tell Blaise soon, but first, I need to understand why he keeps so many secrets.

I adjust another flower arrangement, fighting back another wave of nausea. The grand ballroom sparkles, flowers strategically placed to create the perfect atmosphere for tonight's party.

"Those peonies are drooping." Mrs. Kean's voice cuts through my concentration. "Fix them."

I nod, reaching for the stems even though they look fine to me. My stomach lurches, and I steady myself against the table.

"Are you ill?" She narrows her eyes. "We can't have sick staff tonight."

"No, ma'am." I don’t give any excuse, knowing it won’t matter. I mean, the woman threatened my job over taking my mother for lifesaving surgery. She’s not going to care that I’m pregnant or tired.

When she moves on, I check my phone. No messages from Blaise. He's been busy with increased security for tonight, and I've barely seen him. Every time I think about telling him about the baby, my courage fails. What if he's not ready? What if it changes everything between us?

"Jenna!" Debbie waves from across the room. "The caterers need those centerpieces in the dining room."

I gather up the arrangements, careful not to disturb any blooms. As I pass the entrance hall, I catch sight of Blaise directing other guards. He looks so handsome in his suit, so in control. Our eyes meet briefly, and he gives me a subtle wink that makes everything just fine.

Tonight. I'll tell him tonight during the party. Maybe we can steal a moment alone in the garden where we first met. The thought makes me nervous but excited too. After everything he did for my mom, surely, this news will make him happy?

The party is in full swing. I weave between clusters of Boston's elite. My stomach churns at the smell of seafood canapés, but I force a polite smile and keep moving.

"Another tray of champagne." Debbie bumps my hip as she passes. "You okay? You look green."

"Fine." I adjust my stance, trying to find relief for my aching back. "Just tired."

Across the room, Blaise stands at attention near a marble column. Even in the sea of expensive suits, he draws my eye. His gaze catches mine, and that familiar spark ignites between us. A slight smile plays at his lips before he returns to scanning the crowd.

But there's something guarded in his gaze, like always. For all our intimate moments, for all that he's done for my mother, there's still so much about him I don't understand.

Would knowing about the baby break down those walls, or would it make them higher?

"Girl, you've got it bad." Debbie laughs.

“Jealous?”

“Absolutely.” She trades my nearly empty tray for her full one. "Here. Take these to the library. He's heading that way now."

My heart speeds up as I follow the path Blaise took. Through the party's noise, I catch fragments of worried whispers about investigations and rumors. Mrs. Kean won’t like that.

I enter the library just as Ronan corners Blaise by the fireplace. They speak in hushed tones, Blaise's jaw tight with barely contained emotion. Whatever Ronan's saying has him on edge.

"Champagne?" I offer, approaching with measured steps.

Ronan waves me away without looking, but Blaise's eyes lock onto mine. The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. There's something dark there, something that makes me hesitate on my resolve to tell him about the baby.

"That will be all," Ronan dismisses me.

I retreat. Maybe tonight isn't the right time, after all. I make rounds through the room, stealing glances at Blaise. He's speaking with another guard, his expression serious, focused.

I watch as he excuses himself from the other guard and heads toward the garden doors. Maybe I should follow him, tell him about the baby now.

“We need more wine,” the head server tells me.

“Right away.” Still, I go to Blaise first. “I have to go to the wine cellar. It’s dark and scary. I think I need a guard.”

It takes a moment for the guard part of him to shift. “Is that so?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” I don’t know what’s come over me all of a sudden, but I want to jump him.

I move on, bringing the tray to the kitchen and then making my way down into the basement to the wine cellar.

The basement is huge with a theater, gym, storage, and of course, the wine cellar.

What many don’t know is that there are all sorts of secret passages throughout the house, with several in the basement, including one that exits to the road outside the wall.

When I asked Mom about it, she said she thought it was put in during prohibition but was out of use once alcohol was legal again.

I laugh at myself, thinking of the memory of showing the passage to Ronan when I was just a girl. It was one of the few times he showed me attention.

I slip through the door, breathing in the musty scent of aged wood and cork. Rows of bottles line the walls.

"Jenna?" Blaise's voice carries through the cellar. "Everything okay?"

I step out from behind a rack of vintage reds. "More than okay." I don’t hesitate. I fuse my lips to his, press my body to him.

He groans, his hands settling on my hips, pulling me closer.

His breath catches as I trail kisses down his neck. "You tricked me down here to fuck?”

"Mmhmm. I want to show you how grateful I am." I reach for his belt, turned on and excited. I’m going to love my man and then tell him how our love created a life.