Page 87 of Omega's Faith

The suite is good enough. It’s not the standard I’d usually order, but it has soft armchairs, a bed, a bathroom and, most importantly, privacy. There’s nothing else we need right now. Jonah stands by the window, arms wrapped around himself.

I run my hands through my hair. “I guess I should ask what you want.”

He turns to me, and there's something different in his expression. Determined. "I know what I want."

He crosses to me in three steps, hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me down for a kiss. This is fire and need and weeks ofmissing each other poured into the connection of our mouths.

"Jonah—"

"Shut up," he says against my lips. "We can talk later."

His hands are already working at my buttons, and mine find the hem of his shirt. We undress each other frantically. When he pushes me onto the bed and straddles me, I nearly lose my mind.

"I missed this," he says, rolling his hips in a way that makes me see stars. "Missed you."

"God, me too. So much."

This isn't like his heat. This is choice. Conscious, deliberate choice. He chooses to kiss me, to touch me, to take me inside his body with a soft cry.

We move together, slow and deep, eyes locked. No games this time, no power plays. Just us, stripped bare.

When we finally collapse together, spent and sweating, the city lights painting patterns on the ceiling, I feel something I haven't felt in years. Maybe ever. Hope.

"We'll have to face them eventually," I say, meaning the photographers, the gossip, the whole mess we've made. "But not tonight."

"Not tonight," he agrees, curling into my side like he belongs there.

Tomorrow we'll go back to the estate. We'll figure out how to date while married, how to prepare for a baby neither of us expected, how to bridge the gulf between our worlds.

But tonight, we just hold each other and pretend the morning might never come.

22. Jonah

The waiting room at Dr. Morrison's office is deafeningly quiet except for Alex's nervous leg bouncing. He's been doing it for ten minutes straight, making the whole row of chairs vibrate.

"Would you stop?" I whisper, placing my hand on his knee.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." He stills for exactly three seconds before starting again.

"Everything's fine. The baby's been kicking me all morning."

I can't help but smile at his anxiety. Six months ago, this man was telling me he never wanted children. Now he's read every pregnancy book in existence and attended every appointment.

I even managed to persuade him to come to the doctor’s actual office for the appointment instead of summoning her to the estate. Yes, we have security outside, so it’s not completely ordinary, but I want things to be normal for our child. And that starts by making life more normal for its fathers.

"Mr. Colborne?" The nurse appears in the doorway. "We're ready for you."

Alex jumps up so fast he nearly trips over his own feet. I follow more slowly. Moving isn't as easy as it used to be with this belly. He offers me his arm, and I take it.

The examination room is cold. I change into the paper gown while Alex examines the ultrasound.

"You know, you've seen this machine already," I point out.

"I'm just... interested in how it works."

"You're nervous."

"I'm terrified," he admits, helping me onto the examination table