Stolen Love (Beauty in the Stolen 3)

“Have you ever held a baby?” he asks.

“No.”

“Don’t fucking drop her,” he says through tight lips. “I’ll kill you if you do.”

He’s not joking. There’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes as he carefully hands her over.

I stare at her small face. She’s incredibly light, not weighing more than a cat. Incredibly fragile. A sense of protectiveness rolls through me and hijacks every other instinct. I get a sudden insight of what Damian must be feeling. In a blink, I’m right there with him, ready to kill anyone who lifts a finger against my niece.

Probably sensing I’m not her daddy, she fusses a little. She smells like baby and Lina, a mixture of talcum powder and something oriental. I imagine that smell of baby mixed with orange blossoms. I can’t help it. I lift my eyes. My gaze clashes with Cas’s. The look on her face stills me. It’s not the softness she displayed with Josh. It’s something different, something raw. It’s something on the edge of a precipice, hovering on a precarious drop.

Josie starts to cry.

Damian all but grabs her from me, pressing her against his chest. “Shh, baby. Daddy’s here.”

“She’s tired.” Lina doesn’t seem as fazed by the crying as my overbearing brother. “It’s almost her nap time.”

I don’t focus on the crying or what Lina says. I can’t look away from Cas’s expression. I can’t focus on anything other than the godawful sensation unfurling in my chest.

Oblivious to the dark clouds of the pending storm, Lina gathers Josh and says her goodbyes while Damian tells Cas to get better. I keep my gaze on Cas as I walk Damian and his family out. I say thank you and goodbye on autopilot and watch them get into the elevator.

An ominous boding draws my body tight as I shut the door and face my woman. Her cheeks are as white as the sheets. Her blue eyes are wide, brimming with everything she keeps locked inside.

Then I know.

I know why Lina and Damian’s children upset her.

She’s so deep under my skin it’s like she’s been a part of me forever. I once had her in my pocket and eating out of my hand. I broke a condom and played Russian roulette, thinking she’d live in my pocket forever. Then I rowed her out onto a river, and I lost her. She’d rather bite my hand now than ever eat out of it again. I lost that precious gift, the heart she once laid in my palm, but I lost more. So much fucking more. We both did.

I haven’t finished mourning. Not yet. Not until everything has been said.

Walking to her side, I say, “Tell me.”

Chapter 10

Cas

“Tell me,” Ian orders.

He has a right to know, but I can’t say it. If I lift the lid, every ugly thing will boil over.

“Tell me,” he says again, his expression twisting with the knowledge I’m yet to confirm.

His agony is as real as mine. He did nothing to deserve this pain. It wasn’t his fault. For the first time, I acknowledge his innocence as I witness the suffering of a big, strong man on the brink of tears.

It’s been wrong of me to keep this from him. It’s been selfish to lock it away just because I’m scared of saying it. Saying it means facing it. Facing it means feeling the pain. Yes, there are worse pains in the world, but it shreds me to pieces because I can’t fix this one. I can never give him the child he wants. I saw it in his face when he held Josie in his arms. The longing was there in his eyes, plain for all to see when he looked at me.

“Cas,” he says, gripping my hand, begging me to end it.

I take a shaky breath. “I was pregnant when Ruben shot me.”

He tightens his fingers around mine, emotions twisting in the murky depths of his eyes.

“I found out that morning. Maita gave me a pregnancy test. I was going to tell you, but Danai delivered Wolfe’s note. I had to deal with him first.”

He waits quietly for me to continue.

“I lost the baby.” Devastating words, yet the worst is still to come.

“Cas, I—”

“There’s more. There’s more you need to know. You need to know why I can never be the woman you want.”

Lowering himself into the chair next to the bed, he presses my fingers to his lips and watches me with a tormented look.

It takes courage to say this out loud, to admit to myself I feel cheated by fate. “I didn’t know I suffered an incomplete abortion. I had abdominal pain, but I was hurting everywhere, not only from being shot, but also from falling over the waterfall. I mistook the vaginal spotting for the return of my period. I didn’t find out until I got back to South Africa and saw a doctor for suffering from chronic abdominal pain. After three months of infection and chronic endometritis, they told me I’d battle to fall pregnant again. Then the doctors found widespread scarring.”