Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I regret not looking into her eyes, so I turn her and lift her onto my lap with her legs hanging over the edge of the bench. My hand is already between her thighs, my lips on hers as I work her need higher again.
“Sav.” She pulls away and pushes on my chest. “Too much.”
I give her distance. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.” Her smile is shy. “I’m just oversensitive.”
Sucking a nipple into my mouth, I tease the hard tip with my teeth. The sharp intake of her breath makes my cock twitch.
I bite down gently before licking away the sting. “In that case, you need more practice.”
The cries of a baby fill the room.
I cut my gaze to the monitor on the vanity that’s visible through the shower door. “Livy will go.”
Anya gets off me. Stands. “No, I’ll go check. She’ll need a diaper change.”
She rinses off and squeezes the water out of her hair before grabbing a towel from the rack. I close the tap and take a towel for myself, watching her as she steps out of the shower and quickly dries herself.
She’s the same gorgeous goddess as before, her pale skin soft and flawless and her red hair the color of flames and the sun. Her stomach is flatter than when I met her. She’s losing weight. I’ve lost half of my sight, but I’m not blind to the dark circles under her eyes and the weariness etched on her features.
“We need to hire a nanny,” I say, following her out of the shower.
“I don’t need a nanny.” She combs her hair with her fingers. “I can handle Claire.”
I wrap the towel around my waist and lean my hip against the counter to take my weight off my leg. “You work full-time.”
She dumps the towel in the hamper and shimmies into lacy panties. “I have the advantage of being able to take Claire with me.”
“You’ll wear yourself out.”
“Sav.”
As always, I still at the sound of my name on her lips.
She gives me a sweet smile before going on tiptoes and brushing a kiss over my cheek. “I’ll tell you if I need help.”
I don’t like it. I don’t like knowing she’s at the club with her baby, trying to keep my sinking business afloat. She’s doing a lot more than just the books, a lot more than she’s supposed to.
“Come down for dinner?” she asks with a hopeful air, dressing in a T-shirt and leggings.
I don’t want to disappoint her if I can avoid it, but I’m not ready to sit across a table from Livy and my wife only to rob them of their appetites. It’s enough that Anya has to look at me without the eyepatch.
Snatching up the patch from where I left it on the vanity, I pull it over my face. “I have a lot of work still. I’ll eat in the study.”
Claire’s crying turns into bawling, making it clear she’s not prepared to wait any longer.
Disappointment crosses Anya’s face, but she keeps her voice bright. “Okay. I’ll see you later in bed.”
“Later,” I promise, looking after her as she grabs the monitor and rushes through the door with her wet hair dripping down the back of her T-shirt.
A foreign feeling builds in my chest, an ache sticking like a hiccup behind my ribs. I rub a fist over that spot as if I can massage away the discomfort when the unsettling sensation comes from a deep sense of unease.
It’s not the first time in my life that I feel compassion, but this is different. Worse. It cuts me deeper than ever.
I’m not going to lie. It’s a godawful feeling to watch someone you care deeply about burn themselves out and to feel helpless to do anything about it.
Fine. I admit the idea of hiring a nanny stems from guilt. It’s not so much to make Anya’s life easier—although, it’s that too—than to make myself feel better. I’m not going to help with Claire, which leaves Anya alone to deal with the club and a newborn baby.
A part of me is proud that she’s not like Rachele’s late mother who dumped the entire caretaking of her children on nannies and maids. Rachele’s mother never bathed or fed her daughter or son. I doubt she ever cooked them a meal. She never took an interest in their schoolwork and projects. That’s what private tutors were for. Maybe that’s why Rachele turned out the way she did. It’s the only example she had. Yet Mary Brennan gave Anya even less, and that didn’t stop my treasure from being a caring, loving mother. Because that’s just who Anya is. My good girl is everything I ever wanted in a woman. It’s a pity she came into my life too late.
Chapter
Sixteen
Anya
* * *
“Do you mind watching Claire for a couple of hours this afternoon?” I ask Livy when we arrive at the club on Wednesday morning. “I have a check-up with the ob-gyn.”