“And I’ll find it. When should I expect you back?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“When I’m back.”
“So I won’t know if you’ve been backed into an alley by the paparazzi or if you’re just running late? That doesn’t work for me. Estimate a time or at least give me your location.”
“Are you...worried about me?”
“The baby,” he bit out, the word making his stomach ache.
“Well, of course. That’s what I meant.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Thanks. I’m... Thank you. I’m going to go. I’ll be back here by seven. If I’m not, I’ll text you.”
He nodded and watched her walk back out of the room, his stomach flipping over itself. Maybe he should be thankful for her refusal to marry him. What did he know about being a father? What did he know about being a husband?
All he knew was that he felt a need to be close to her. To protect her. And he knew, with a total certainty, that he would feel that way about the baby.
He meant to offer them protection. But he had no idea who would protect them from him. No, he would never harm them with his hands. But...
He had always pictured Ajax’s veins being filled with black poison. When he’d been a boy and he or Nikola would walk past him, it was a strong vision he’d had. That they were something different than men. That if you cut them, evil would pour out. They exuded it. How could it not be a physical thing beneath their skin?
And then he’d found out the truth.
If their blood was black, then his was, too.
Because it was the same blood.
Worse, he’d seen Ajax lose that legacy. Had seen him walk away and create a new life. He’d seen his mother, desperate to cling to the man she’d loved.
The men he’d always considered evil seemed to have no trouble binding people to them.
The same legacy had been coursing through his veins since birth, and yet no one had ever chosen to stay with him.
It made him fear that the only thing he’d inherited was the darkness.
* * *
The skin on Rachel’s arms prickled as a breeze blew across the water and over her. She and Alana had just closed up shop after assessing the damage, and Alana had gone with her boyfriend back to their apartment.
Rachel had just been standing out in front of the store, looking across the harbor at the yachts, at where blue sky met blue water, rich colors fading together.
She breathed in deep and the breeze set the hair on the back of her neck on end and brushed a tingling sensation over her, down to her fingertips. It wasn’t fear. But it was something she couldn’t ignore. Something urgent, little bursts of it popping through her until she turned her head.
And then it all made sense.
Alex was walking toward her, hands in his pockets. He was dressed casually, nothing like he’d been that day on the yacht, but still much more relaxed than Alex the Businessman. A pale blue shirt open at the collar and a pair of dark jeans.