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Not a hint of doubt coloured his question. He knew, as Imogen did, that the name was perfect.

“How come that never occurred to me?”

“I guess I’m good for something,” he teased. “So? What do you think?”

“I love it,” Imogen said honestly, tears sparkling on her eye lashes. She blinked at them furiously but they fell unchecked. “I’m sorry. I’m so emotional.”

“I think you have every reason to be emotional in this moment.” He padded his thumb over Imogen’s cheek, smiling at how goddamned right it felt.

“Would you like to hold her?”

Theo nodded, his heart clunky inside his chest as he stood and put his hands out. He had no idea how to hold a baby. To the best of his recollection, he’d never so much as touched one. But when Imogen lifted the little pink bundle into his arms, instincts took over, just as they had the night Imogen had stormed into the bar and he’d known her without having a clue who she was.

“She’s so perfect,” he said, the words chipped by emotion. “She is utterly perfect.”

“I know.”

“Look at that little face.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, so close that Imogen could feel his warmth and see their baby and her heart was filling up once more. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Earnestly. And with so much heart that she knew his gratitude was soul-deep.

“What for?”

And when he looked at her, his eyes were suspiciously moist. “For her. For you.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve given me everything.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THEY’D BEEN HOME FOR less than ten minutes when a knock sounded on the front door. Theo grinned at Imogen – or rather, he tilted his head towards her. The grin was permanent, as though the wind had changed and he was stuck like this. Permanently happy.

“I’ll go,” he said softly, the words whispered in deference to the sleeping bundle in Imogen’s arms. Then again, Hermione had shown herself to be an excellent sleeper. Two days after crashing into the world, she was healthy, robust and utterly stunning.

Imogen nodded, reaching down and unclipping the straps of the capsule. She lifted their baby and cuddled her close. Hermione made a little mewing noise and Imogen smiled. Her heart was full.

“Mother.” Theo stared at Elena with obvious frustration. “I told you I’d call when it was a good time.”

Elena nodded, her eyes flitting beyond him, trying to see inside the apartment. “I know. I won’t stay. Only, Theo, darling, I must speak to Imogen.”

He cast a look over his shoulder and any hope that Imogen hadn’t realized who was at the door evaporated. Her body was tense, her expression that of a stricken deer smacked in the middle of the head with over-bright headlights.

“No.”

The word was implacable and if Elena had any doubts that he meant it, one look in his determined gaze skittled them. “Darling, I don’t plan to upset her…”

“Whether you plan to or not, I’m not taking any risks. Later,” he said sharply. “When she is settled.” When he’d had a chance to put a damned ring on her finger and preferably cement things with a hasty marriage, he thought. He wasn’t going to risk losing Imogen again.

“Oh.” Elena nodded, and the sight of her crumpled expression almost softened his resolve. Almost, but not quite.

“It’s okay, Theo,” Imogen murmured. He hadn’t realized she’d moved through the apartment and was now standing just behind him. “Please, come in, Elena.”

The older woman’s eyes showed her anguish but she made to do as Imogen had said. Only Theo kept his body in her way like an immovable barrier. “Be careful, mother. You have a habit of upsetting her and I won’t have it.”

“I know.” She nodded, and a single tear slid from her eye as she passed.

Theo had never seen his mother cry before.

Of course, Elena wouldn’t have been human if the full force of her attention hadn’t been taken by the softly breathing bundle Imogen held. But, to her credit, she made a valiant effort to focus, to return her gaze to Imogen’s face.

“Hello.” A soft word of greeting.

Imogen was pale, tired, and the last time she’d seen this woman she’d felt more grief than she could ever describe. But she had no interest in making anyone suffer, least of all Theo’s mother.


Tags: Clare Connelly Erotic