Page 21 of Oops Baby for the Mafia Boss (Oops Baby #1)
MARKOV
Six months later
“It’s okay, you know, you can hold her,” Emily says from the hospital bed.
I’m standing over the crib of our daughter, Natasha. She’s so tiny. Grey eyes, but curly brown hair like Emily’s. I reach down, and oh-so-carefully pick our baby up, wrapped in the white cotton blanket.
She fits in one of my hands, and doesn’t even cover my whole forearm as I rest her there.
I’m overwhelmed by love as I cradle our incredibly perfect daughter. Every limb is a little work of art.
I’ve been here throughout the birth, by my wife’s side and holding her hand. She was awe-inspiring. I managed to talk to her, reassure her, and tell her she was my good girl, because even I know when my preference for not speaking is irrelevant.
Just like when I met Emily, I’m filled with a sense of rightness with our daughter in my arms. Contentment. I will do anything my daughter needs. I will protect her with my life. I will provide all that she wants.
Her fist closes around my fingertip, and I know right then that I’d kill, and die, and move mountains for this new part of Emily and my love.
There’s an instinct to hide myself as my emotions rise further, a tidal wave of affection and protective instincts as I examine our little girl, rocking her in my arms. I peek over to check if Emily has fallen asleep, and of course, she hasn’t.
She’s watching me, us, tired, heavy eyed, but with a soft smile.
“She’s beautiful...” My voice breaks and I have to swallow hard before I can continue. “You did so well. Thank you.”
Her mouth stretches wider.
“Thank you for conceiving, carrying for nine months, and giving birth to our child?” she asks with a twist of humour.
I nod. “And for being my wife.”
She laughs softly. “That’s not a normal thing to thank someone for.”
“Should be.” I look back down at the warm little bundle in my arms. My responsibility. My baby girl.
“You really are extraordinary,” Emily says, almost to herself. “I think you’re going to be a good father.”
I glance up at Emily. “I will do everything I can.”
“You make quite the picture, with your sleeves rolled up to reveal your tattoos, and holding a newborn baby so tenderly. And the beard growth from not leaving my side while I’ve been in the hospital.”
“Where else would I be?” I mumble. How could any man want to be anywhere but with his partner? It was a good thing too, as without me I don’t think Emily would have been able to call for what she needed at the right time. The reading I did paid off on that count.
She sighs with contentment. “I’m glad you were here.”
She holds out her hand and I go to her, perching on the edge of the bed with our baby between us, I lean in to kiss her lips, then each cheek, and her forehead.
“My good girl,” I murmur, knowing she loves it when I say that. They’re words I love saying because she always lights up. “Such a good girl for me.”