"Princess, are you sure you're not too tired?" Drake traced the dark circles under Alex's eyes with a gentle finger. He still couldn't believe that his tiny, fragile-looking wife was capable of enduring the rigors of childbirth.
"I'm sure." Eagerly, Alex reached out as Molly returned with a small, wailing bundle. Lovingly, Alex took her newborn daughter into her arms, then proudly displayed her to Drake. "Look at her. Isn't she beautiful?"
A muscle worked in Drake's jaw as he gazed into his daughter's fathomless gray eyes—Alex's eyes. Slowly, he lifted her from Alex's arms into his own, cradling her tiny, fuzzy head in his hand. An explosion of pride, protectiveness, and love erupted inside him, so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees. "Hello, little one," he said in a rough whisper.
Instantly, the baby stopped crying. "Oh Lord." Alex rolled her eyes. "Another woman has fallen prey to your fatal charm."
"Evidently not." Drake chuckled as the crying resumed. "Or at least not in lieu of nourishment." He waited for Alex to lower her nightrail before reluctantly shifting the baby back into her mother's hands.
Crooning softly, Alex cradled their daughter to her breast, smiling as the infant greedily latched onto her nipple and, with great enthusiasm, began to suckle. "You're a fast learner, my love," Alex murmured, kissing one flailing fist. Alex was readjusting her nightrail, the baby sound asleep in the crook of her elbow, when Gray exploded into the bedchamber. "Mama, do I have a sister?"
"Forgive me, Your Grace." Miss Hutch, the Allonshire governess, appeared, flushed and panting, beside her charge. "I put the young marquis down for a nap. I had no idea—"
"It's all right, Miss Hutch." Alex's
lips twitched. "Gray may come in. You and Molly are both free to go."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do I, Mama?" Gray rushed to Alex's bedside, his eyes glued to the tiny form beside his mother, his hands tightly clasped behind his back.
Alex laughed. "Now that's quite a change. I thought only a brother would do."
"No, Mama. I want to be a hero. Like Papa. So I need a sister."
Alex and Drake exchanged baffled looks. "Then rest easy," Alex assured Gray. "You are indeed a hero. Meet your sister."
Gray's eyes opened wide with wonder as he stared down at the peaceful, angelic face. "She's little."
Drake chuckled. "She'll grow, son."
"She's pretty. What's her name?"
Tenderly, Alex rumpled Gray's hair. "Papa and I are still discussing—"
"Bonnie."
Alex blinked. "What?"
"Her name. It's Bonnie. 'Cause she's pretty. I choose, 'cause I'm her hero."
A maternal gleam flashed in Alex's eyes. "Bonnie. It is a lovely name. Drake?" She inclined her head.
"I'm her hero. I choose," Gray insisted.
A rumble of laughter erupted from Drake's chest. "Very well. Since you insist you're the hero—"
"Not the hero, Papa. Bonnie's hero. Same as you're Aunt Sammy's."
"Ah." Drake's brow furrowed as he tried to deduce what had prompted Gray's surprising analogy.
"Here, Mama. For you." Remembering his gift, Gray yanked his hand from behind his back and thrust the bunch of wilting marigolds at Alex." 'Cause you made me a hero."
Alex stared from the droopy flowers to Gray's earnest face, tears filling her eyes. Drawing her son forward, she kissed his cheek and took her bouquet. "Thank you, Gray. They're the most beautiful flowers I've ever received. You really are a hero."
"Just like Rem said."
"Rem?"