The Tyrant (Banker 3)
“I like it in here. Peaceful.”
He rested one hand on the crib as he watched me rock back and forth. “Can I join you?”
“You’re very fit, but I don’t think I can hold you.”
He smiled. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know…I think I’m too big.”
He rolled his eyes like I was being ridiculous. “Get up.”
I moved to my feet then he sat down.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto his lap, my legs resting across his. I held the giraffe against my belly.
Cato supported me with his arms and gently rocked us both with his foot. “You’re right. It is peaceful in here.”
“It won’t be after she’s born,” I said with a chuckle. “There will be lots of crying and screaming.”
“Not much different than it is now,” he teased.
I smiled and smacked him playfully on the arm. “I scream a lot. But I don’t cry.”
He moved his lips to my hairline and gave me a soft kiss.
It was a sweet, affectionate gesture, the kind that made me close my eyes and feel the warmth in my chest. It made me feel special, knowing he’d never done that to another woman. “I feel so uncomfortable right now…”
His hand moved to my stomach. “I know, baby. But it’ll be over soon.”
“I feel so fat…so ugly.”
He gave a sarcastic snort. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re pregnant, not fat.”
“Whatever. I’m huge. When you went out last week…I guess I was scared that you were…” I didn’t finish the sentence, feeling too guilty to say the words out loud. I never thought I would be the insecure type, to constantly accuse their partner of cheating just because I had no self-esteem.
“What?” he pressed.
“Don’t make me say it.”
“No, I’m gonna.” He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “What did you think I snuck off in the middle of the night to do?”
The guilt smothered my words so I looked away. “I know the kind of lifestyle you’re used to. I know the kind of women you like.”
“For the last ten months, I’ve been with the same woman every single night. I’ve watched my daughter grow inside her belly, and with every passing day, I’ve become hotter for her. The way your back arches, the way that stomach protrudes, the glow in your eyes…sexiest thing in the world. Trust me, my eyes don’t wander. Whenever I have a moment to myself at work, I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about getting home as quickly as I can so I can be with you.” His fingers moved under my chin and forced me to look at him again. “I’m an honest man. If I want another woman, I would tell you. But I really don’t—just you.”
Tears hit my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly so they would stop. My attempts to ward them off weren’t good enough, and they pierced through my eyes and dripped down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I got jealous.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It turns me on when you get jealous.”
I wiped my tears away with my fingertips. “I thought insecurity would be ugly.”
“Not with you. You could walk into any bar, right now, and pick up a handsome guy. The fact that you’re spending your time worrying about me instead of finding someone better is sexy. You’re needy, possessive, jealous…and I like it.”
Bates was walking into the house when I reached the last stair. “Damn, you’re huge.”
I gripped the rail as I made my way downstairs, taking my time because the extra weight was painful on my joints. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t know women could get that big.” He stared at my stomach like it defied logic. “Can you even bend over?”
“Yes. And I can also kick you in the nuts.”
He covered his crotch with his hands and stepped back. “Whoa, let’s calm down. I wasn’t trying to be insulting.”
“Well, you were extremely insulting.” If Cato hadn’t reinvigorated my self-esteem, I would probably be in tears right now. “Why are you here?”
“Work. Cato and I have a conference call.”
“Oh…” If I had it my way, Cato would retire. But talking him into that was impossible. Even if he did it, he would probably resent me for it. “Where do you live, anyway?” I had no idea where Bates’s residence was. Did he live in Florence? Did he live in Tuscany?
“Why? You wanna come over?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“You nearly broke my nose just outside this house. So, no.”
“Hey, that was nothing personal. That’s just how we treat traitors.”
“And you’re lucky I won’t tell Cato you made a pass at me.”
“I didn’t make a pass,” he argued. “Unless you’re saying yes…” He waggled his eyebrows again.
“I really am going to kick you in the crotch.”
He stepped back farther. “I live a few miles away from my mother. So, I live in Tuscany. I’ve got a big, beautiful house just like Cato. My chef isn’t quite as good, but she’s nice to me, so whatever.”