“Baby.” He whispered it softly. Gently. His voice moved over her like velvet. “I’m telling you, what happened between us was something beautiful. The gift you gave me was precious. I didn’t treat it like that after. I was so far gone, a dead body on the floor, and the shock of what I thought bouncing around in my head, nothing registered. That’s totally on me. You have no part of that. I should have taken care with you. If I hadn’t been so fucking selfish, I would have taken that care and I would have realized what you’d given to me. Never again. I swear to you, Siena, never again.”

“You can’t promise that, and I’m not strong enough to take what you’re capable of dishing out.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t going to fight. Couples fight. The more passion they feel for each other, the greater the likelihood of it happening, but I know what I have now, and I’m telling you, I’ll take care with you. I can give you my promise, my word on that.”

Siena didn’t know what to say so she didn’t say anything, more confused than ever. She liked everything he said, but he wasn’t asking. She wasn’t so blinded by her fantasies of him that she hadn’t caught that. He was a man in charge. He could be in control nice or he could take control rough. She liked that he wanted to take care with her, but she had no idea how to process everything that had happened to her, let alone that he wanted to claim her permanently. He hadn’t actually said that. He wanted the baby, that much he had said.

“Siena? Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what you mean. Are you asking me to stay here with you until the baby’s born?”

His hand reached around, caught her chin and pulled her head around and back until it was lying against his chest, turned toward him. His eyes moved over her face. There was a hard stamp of possession there. It was in every line and the hard set of his mouth. Possession burned in his eyes.

“You know what I’m saying. I don’t want you until the baby’s born. I’m talking us. Together. Raising our child. You in my bed. You’re my woman. I’m your man. I’m talking, you don’t wear that dress unless I’m with you.”

That dress had really made an impression. She was going to have to go back and revisit that dress.

“I see.” Because he’d made it so clear even an imbecile—like her right now—could see. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know about what?”