“He’s hungry?” she asked.
“Like he’s never been fed a day in his life.”
Adara smirked and glanced at the clock, noting the boy was barely four hours into his life. With some wincing and a hand from Gideon, she pulled herself to sit up.
“Sore?” He glanced toward the door, thinking to call a nurse.
“It’s okay. He’s worth it.” She got her arm out of the sleeve of her gown, exposing her swollen breast.
“Do you, um, want to cover up with something?” He looked around for a towel.
“Why?” She drew the edge of her gown across her chest again. “Is there someone else in here?”
“No, just me.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay then, isn’t it?” She started to reveal herself again, but hesitated, her confused gaze striking his with shadows of such deep uncertainty, his heart hurt.
“Of course it’s okay.” He wanted to lean down and kiss her, he was so moved that she still felt so natural around him. It could only mean good things, couldn’t it?
Adara could hardly look into Gideon’s eyes, but she couldn’t look away. He delved so searchingly into her gaze, as if looking for confirmation they stood a chance, but she’d treated him so badly, rejecting him for being as self-protective as she’d always been. She didn’t know how to bridge this chasm between them.
Their son found his voice with an insistent yell and made them both start.
And then, even though she’d had a brief lesson before falling asleep, Adara had to learn to breast-feed, which wasn’t as natural a process as some mothers made it look. She wasn’t sure how to hold him. Her breast was too swollen for such a tiny mouth.
Their son surpassed his patience and grew too fussy to try. Gideon looked at her with urgency to get the job done as the baby began to wail in earnest.
“What am I doing wrong?” she cried.
“Don’t look at me, I’ve never done it either. Here, I’ll sit beside you and hold him so you can line him up— There, see? He’s never done it, either, but he’s getting it.”
She didn’t know what was more stingingly sweet: the first pull of her baby’s mouth on her nipple or the stirring way Gideon cradled her against his chest so he could help her hold their baby. Adara blinked back tears, frantically wondering how she could be so close to Gideon and feel he was so far out of reach at the same time.
She tensed to hide that she was beginning to tremble, finding words impossible as emotion overwhelmed her. At least she had her back tucked to his chest and he couldn’t see her face.
He seemed to react to her tension, pulling away with a grimace that he smoothed from his expression before she’d properly glimpsed it. Standing by the bed with his hands in the pockets of his rumpled work pants, he stared at the baby.
She did too, not knowing where else to look, then became fascinated by the miracle of a closed fist against her breast, tiny lashes, the peek of a miniature earlobe from beneath the edge of the blue cap.
A drop of pure emotion fell from her eye, landing on his cheek.
“Oh,” she gasped, drying the betraying tear. “I’m just so overwhelmed,” she said, trying to dismiss that she was crying over a lot more than the arrival of their son.
“I know.” Gideon’s blurred image took a step forward and he gestured helplessly. “I didn’t expect it to be like this.”
Like this. Those words seemed to encompass a lot more than a safe delivery after so many heartaches.
Adara blinked, trying to clear her vision to see what was in his face, eyes, heart, but all she could think was that she’d screwed up and thrown away something unbelievably precious. Her eyes flooded with despondent tears.
“Please come home,” she choked out. “With us. We won’t be a family without you and I miss you so much—” She couldn’t continue.
“Oh, babe.” He rushed forward, his warm hand cupping her face as he settled his hip beside her thigh and drew her into him, pressing hot lips against her temple, her wet cheek, her trembling lips. “I’ve been trying to think how I’d ever convince you to let me. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, burying her face in the hollow of his shoulder as she tried to regain control. “It’s okay.” She sniffed. “It was never easy for me to tell you about my childhood horrors. I shouldn’t have expected you to revisit yours without some serious prodding.”
He massaged the back of her head, his chin rubbing her hair. “I didn’t want to, but mostly because I knew it could be the breaking point of our marriage. I didn’t want that. And not because it would expose me. I didn’t want to lose you. Does it help at all to know that I’ve always felt married to you? Maybe it wasn’t legal, but it was real to me. You’re my wife, Adara.”
She nodded. “I am.”
He laughed a little, the sound one of husky joy. “You are.” He drew back, cupping her face as he looked for confirmation in her eyes. “You are.”
She bit her lips, holding back the longing as she nodded. “I am. It’s enough.”
The radiant pride in his expression dimmed. “Enough?”
“Knowing that our union matters to you. That you want me as your wife. That we can be a family.”
He sat back, hands falling away from her. “What are you saying? What does all of that do for you?”
“What do you mean? It’s good, Gideon. I want to carry on as we were, treating this like a real marriage. We don’t have to change anything or bring up your past or involve any lawyers. My brothers know why we separated, but no one else does. You are Gideon Vozaras. I’m Mrs. Vozaras. It’s all good.”
He stood abruptly, his mood shifting to acute dismay. “And why are you staying married to that man? That name?”
“Because—” I love him. Her heart dipped. She wasn’t ready to put herself out there again and get nothing in return. “There’s no point in shaking things up. I read those papers you sent and they say that I have a case to take you to the cleaners, but I don’t want that. I’m fine with us being married in a common-law sort of way. No use rocking the boat.” There, she was using language he understood.
Or should, but his jaw was like iron as he moved to the window and showed her a scant angle of his profile and a tense line across his shoulders.
“You asked me if we were falling in love,” he reminded.
“It was never part of our deal. I can live without it,” she hurried to say.
“I can’t.”
His words plunged a knife into her. She gasped and looked wildly around as she absorbed what it could mean if he wanted a marriage based on love, but was stuck with her—
“For God’s sake, Adara. Are you still not seeing what you mean to me?” He was looking over his shoulder at her, incredulous, but incredibly gentle too.
“What?” Her breast was cold and she realized the baby had fallen asleep and let her nipple slip from his mouth. She wished for extra hands as she tried to cradle the baby and cover herself at the same time.
Gideon walked over and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. A fire burned in the back of that intense gaze, one that sparked an answering burn in her.
She still wasn’t sure, though...
“You’re not bound to me legally, but that doesn’t matter if I own your heart,” he told her. “I want you, body and soul. If there’s something standing in the way of your loving me, tell me what it is. Now. So I can fix it or remove it and have you once and for all.”
“I—” She almost lost her nerve, but sensed it really was time to let go of the last of her insecurities and be open about what she wanted. Grasp it. Demand it. “I want you to love me back.”
She wasn’t just wearing her heart on her sleeve, she’d pinned it to the clothesline and wheeled it out into the yard.
A look of unbelievable tenderness softened his harsh expression. “How could I not?”
She slowly shook her head. “Don’t make it sound like it’s there just like that. I was awful to you. I know that you’ve lost people close to you and don’t want to be hurt again. It’s okay that you’re not able to love me yet. I can wait.” Maybe. She set her chin, determined it wouldn’t tremble despite the fact her heart was in her throat.
If only he wasn’t so confusing, smiling indulgently at her like that.
“You do love me.” He cradled the side of her face in his palm, scanning her face as if he was memorizing it, and she suddenly realized she must look like something the cat had coughed up. Her hair hadn’t been washed, she’d barely rinsed her mouth with a sip of water.
Self-consciously she lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed his back, using him as a bit of a shield while she worked at maintaining hold of her emotions.
“I love you quite a bit, actually,” she confessed toward her blanket-covered knees. “It’s not anything like what I feel for the other men in my life. This one included.” She hitched the baby a bit higher and couldn’t resist kissing his little cheek, even as her soul reached out to his father. “I don’t know how to handle what I feel for you. When my father was mean to me, it hurt even though I didn’t care about him, but it’s nothing compared to how much it hurts when you love someone and trust him and think they don’t care about you at all.”