Page 179 of Lethal Torture

Taken aback, I’m oddly lost for words. Roman’s never been given to introspection, at least not with me.

“I never thought in a million years we’d even live this long,” he says, giving me a rather rueful look. “Let alone find this kind of happiness. To us,” he says, clinking his glass to mine with a twisted smile. “We made it, Zin. Most wouldn’t. Not through the kind of shit we faced. And we made it through as friends, which in my book is nothing short of a fucking miracle.”

I nod, feeling an unexpected lump in my throat. “I’m lucky to have you.”

He touches my cheek briefly. “We’re lucky to have each other, you crazy little psychopath.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. “Like you can talk, you big scarypakhan.”

“Damn straight. And since you’re about to open shop on my turf, you better not forget it.” Slinging an arm around my shoulder, he pulls me into a rough embrace and walks me back toward the crowd. “Macarthur,” he calls out to Luke, “you could have at least told your bride where she actually is, you dipshit.”

It’spast midnight when the last chopper takes off and the final set of headlights winds up the mountain roads behind us.

“Finally,” Luke says, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me back against him. “Alone.”

“I can’t believe this is ours.” I stare out at the moonlight falling across the water. “It’s amazing, Luke.”

“Wait until you see the bedroom.” I feel him smile against my cheek. “You might have noticed I left that room out of the public tour.” His fingers trail up my ribs, and I shiver.

“I can’t wait,” I whisper.

“But first,” Luke says, backing away from me and pulling off his shirt, “I think we should christen the pool, don’t you?” Laughing, he grabs me as I try to bolt, unzipping my dress with lethal dexterity and tugging my hair out of its carefully arranged French roll. “It’s heated,” he says, nuzzling my neck as he carries me over to the water. “And we can wash the flowers off later.” There’s a sea of frangipanis floating on the surface of the pool, interspersed by candles.

I squeal as he tumbles us into the water, then sigh as it envelops me. Luke pulls me against him and we float, looking up at the carpet of stars overhead.

“Liana and Tommo are staying with Darya and Roman,” he says, his chest propping up my body. “Apparently they’re planning a poker game with Dimitry and Abby. Can you imagine the madhouse, with all those kids?”

“Honestly, no,” I say, laughing. Then, when he doesn’t speak, I broach the topic I’ve been avoiding since Australia. “Speaking of kids,” I say tentatively.

He kisses my head, and I feel his mouth curve into a smile. “You want to do this now?”

“Not particularly.” I turn and kiss him. “I thought you might. Or that we should, maybe. Talk about it, at least.”

“Hm.” Luke’s hand roams over my abdomen. “I’d rather focus on practicing.”

I melt against him. “And I love you for that. But what about in the future? Liana talked about you having a family.” I lift my shoulders against him. “I don’t know that I’d be any good at that, Luke. At looking after other people.”

His laugh rumbles against my back. “But you’re just fine looking after an entire tribe of staff, who come to you with every small thing?”

I elbow him. “That’s different.”

“If you say so.” His voice is still amused. We float for a minute, silence stretching companionably between us. I love that Luke does this, allows time for me to find my own thoughts, instead of filling the silence with words of his own.

“That night with Ofelia in London,” I say quietly. “You told me that you didn’t think being a father wasn’t something you thought you were ever likely to know much about. What did you mean?”

“Wow.” Luke’s body shifts beneath mine. “You remembered that, huh?”

It’s my turn to stay quiet.

“I guess I never imagined a life that would allow me to be a father,” he says eventually.“Or being with someone I actually wanted to have children with.” His lips touch my head. “Until now.”

“Do you really think it’s. . .” I bite my lip, trying to find the words. “I mean, do you truly believe we could. . .”

“Have a kid?” Now his amusement is palpable. “I’m pretty certain it’s well within our capabilities, Zin, yes.”

“I’m not asking if wecan,exactly.”

“I know what you’re asking.” Luke’s lips land just behind my ear, making me shiver. “And the answer is yes. To all the questions. Yes, I’d love to have children with you, Zinaida. Yes, I do think you would make an amazing mother. Yes, I’m absolutely certain we could make it work.” He trails his lipsacross my ear. “But,” he murmurs in the low, gravelly voice I love, “I’m not in any rush. We’ll do this in our time, and we’ll work it out together. When we’re both ready for it. Okay?”