Page 107 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal

"Better than I ever imagined." Lucian's expression softened as baby sounds drifted from the monitor. "Though I have a feeling someone heard Grandma's voice."

As if summoned, Alastair's cries filled the house, wide awake and ready for attention.

"I'll get him," I said, but Mom was already heading for the stairs.

"Nonsense! Grandma duties call." She disappeared upstairs, her delighted cooing soon replacing Alastair's cries.

Frank settled into our living room, admiring our Christmas tree and accepting the wine Lucian offered.

Within minutes, Mom reappeared with a perfectly content Alastair in her arms, both of them beaming.

"Look how big he's gotten!" she exclaimed, settling into the rocking chair we'd positioned near the fireplace. "And those eyes—he's going to be a heartbreaker, just like his daddy."

I caught Lucian's amused expression and felt my heart swell with contentment.

This—our house filled with family, our son gurgling happily in his grandmother's arms, the man I loved more than breathing standing beside me—this was everything I'd never known I wanted.

Lucian's hand found mine, his thumb brushing over my wedding rings as we watched our perfectly imperfect family settle in for Christmas Eve.

The naughty list would have to wait, but honestly, I couldn't imagine anywhere I'd rather be.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Cross," he whispered against my ear.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Cross," I whispered back, squeezing his hand as snow continued to fall outside our windows.

We had everything we'd ever dreamed of and more than we'd ever dared to hope for.