Page 57 of The Hellion is Tamed
Simon blinked, cheeks flushing. Then, stumbling back, he slumped on the edge of her desk as his breath scattered, rushing from his lips in a gush. “A baby.” His throat clicked as he swallowed, his eyes going fever-bright. “A baby.”
“Asummerbaby. Only fair, since Artie’s our winter treasure.” She watched her husband run through the possibilities, some of them dire, and stepped in until he had no choice but to wrap her in his arms and drag her close. “It will be fine. We’ll be fine. I barely had a complaint last time. Honestly, I enjoyed it.”
“You’re the toughest woman I know, Em. But I still worry.” Pressing his cheek to her bosom, he drew a choking breath, his voice frayed. “Don’t let me ruin this moment. I’m overcome. I love him so much, you so much…” His words crumbled like a sandcastle consumed by a rogue wave. “I want to give you everything. Protect you from every danger.”
Emma tilted his head until she could look into his misty eyes. “You’ve given me more than everything, darling. My life, my meaning. Our efforts with Josie, the League, exploring my gift, improving life for those in St Giles and Tower Hamlets, my son, myfamily. What more could you give me? What more could I want?”
“Beats me,” he whispered, his hot breath skimming her collarbone, “I only know I want to give you more. Give our children more.”
“Well, there is one teeny item,” she replied, realizing this was the perfect time to introduce the topic. Of course, he would say yes to anything in this mood. “Lucien needs a job. Supervision. Guidance.”
Simon’s spine stiffened beneath the hand she’d flattened on his lower back. “You wrestle like a street thug, madam. Right for the jugular.”
“You could succeed where others have failed. That’s a resounding theme in your life. Savior of St Giles, some are calling you.” She pressed her lips together to hide a smile that would go over like a lead brick if he witnessed it. “Why not make it a family theme?”
“An Alexander by nameandcombat style, my beloved.” Simon scrubbed his fist across his chin with a gently issued curse. “So, Finn kicked my rebellious nephew out on his arse. After the boy was dismissed from Rugby. Trust me, I had my fair share of heated discussions with administrators on that campus, too. But they invited me back each fall, much to my surprise.” Exhaling, his shoulders slumped. “And to think, Lucien’s theactualson of a viscount, not a bastardized imposter, and still they expelled him.”
Emma reached for a small shipping crate sitting by her desk, intending to drag it over and sit on it so they could talk. Simon was up like a flash, knocking her hands aside, lifting the crate, empty she could’ve told him, and positioning it before the desk. His hand going out in a flourish as if he’d offered her a seat on a chariot. When she settled, he went to his haunches before her, that slightly terrified look he’d carry until the baby arrived twisting his features.
She trailed her finger down his cheek and watched in delight as his lids fluttered. “He’s confused, Simon. Like you were. Everyone in the League is, while managing a mystical talentandadolescence. He’s eighteen, fighting to find himself, find independence from an overbearing but incredibly loving father. Touching objects and seeing the future, or the past—each and every object you encounter—must be horrendous. Add to that, his father feeling such guilt forgivinghim the gift.” She paused, letting her advice sink in. Men often desired to feelthey’dcome to the decision their wives had placed before them. “He needs space. He needsyou.”
Simon grimaced, his lips twisting. “It must be horrendous. My haunts are nothing like that supernatural burden. I’ve even come to appreciate them, friends that never,everleave. Henry says he’s staying with me until I kick, then we’ll walk off into the sunset together.”
“Lucien loves you, trusts you. You’re closer to his age. Finn is too soft-hearted to deal with a wayward young man. Julian and Piper should have known better. If only he could meet someone in the League and fall in love, a woman who understands what being gifted islike.”
Simon rocked back on his heels, his hands going out in surrender. “I give up. Alert Dimitri and have him send the carriage. I’ll put Lucien to work at the Blue Moon, maybe even at the Board of Works office. Limit the objects he has to touch, walk him through the uncertainty of our world. An uncertainty he has to accept. And remind him, repeatedly, that there is no true definition for normal.” He snagged a half crown from his waistcoat pocket and gave it a reckless spin between his fingers. “What’s another child anyway? This will make three.”
Emma snorted a laugh through her nose, then clapped her hand over her face to try and call it back, sounding like the undignified Emmaline Breslin of old. “He’s 18, not two. You have months before another babe appears to worry over, anxious papa.”
Simon’s gaze rolled up to hers, so vulnerable she felt hers tear up in response. “I’m thrilled, by the way. Incredibly grateful and happy. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want as many babies as you’d like to give me.” Leaning, he caressed her stomach with a hand that trembled. “I promise to do my best, always. You have my word as a thief.”
Rising to her feet, Emma held out her hand in invitation. “I know a wonderful way we can celebrate. Follow me to the bedchamber, and I might be persuaded to show you. As you likely suspect, I’m wearing few layers beneath this gown. We could get to negotiations quickly.”
Bracing his hand on his knee, Simon shoved to his feet in a burst of masculine enthusiasm. “I’ll follow you anywhere, my girl. To the past, to the bedchamber, and especially,” he said, laughing as he swept her into his arms and strode toward their bedchamber, “to our future.”
The End