Page 100 of Sin of Love
Everything’s been sold or packed for shipping. We have a rental waiting for us in Paris, plane tickets, bags, and enough snacks to start our own service on the flight over. We’ve said our goodbye-for-nows. The only thing left to do is get inside the town car waiting outside to take us to the airport.
And let Deirdre surprise me with something I already know.
As she guides me into my studio, nostalgia coats my nose with the lingering scents of my art. Deirdre squeezes my hand like she can sense my emotion.
“Almost there.”
She brings me to a wall.
“Okay, you can take the blindfold off.”
I pull the towel down, blinking fast to understand what I’m looking at. It’s a painting made directly on the white wall—a god-awful one that has no business being considered in the same realm as actual art.
But it’s also the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen, and one that means everything.
* * *
I watch his expressionless face, holding my breath as I wait for a response. Finally, his gaze slides to me.
“I suppose I’m the stick figure with the red, squiggly lines coming out of its head, and you’re the other one?”
“Yep.” I bite my lips, trying not to laugh.
“And, uh, that little thing there?”
My grin is going to split my face.
“Why is it on your back?”
Smile faltering, I squint at my rendition of a pregnant me. It does sort of look like a baby is growing out of my lower back. Wringing my hands, I turn back to Gideon. I was so sure he’d be thrilled, but he seems distant all of a sudden, which is triggering every doubt I’ve had since missing my period six weeks ago.
“I didn’t mean to blindside you.” My voice cracks. “We’re, um—I’m pregnant. Since Italy.”
Gideon’s lips press together, his gaze rising again to the wall. “I’m still stuck on this bulb-thingjutting from your back. Unless we’re having an alien. Are we having an alien?”
My nerves vanish. “What!” I screech.
He starts laughing and doesn’t stop. I shove him in the stomach; I might as well have shoved a wall.
“Goddammit, Gideon Masters. You scared me! How dare you make me think—make—”
I start sobbing.
Fucking hormones.
Gideon, slightly less horrified than I am, gathers me into his arms. “Mon bijou, forgive me. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the changes in your body? I see only you. All of you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I hiccup into his shoulder.
“I wanted you to know that whatever you decided, I’d support you one hundred percent. But for the record, I’m happy. Ecstatic. Scared out of my mind. And more in love with you than I thought humanly possible.”
I cry harder.
“What did I say?” He lifts my face, cupping my wet cheeks.
I keep blubbering, gasping out words between sobs. “I’m—just—so—happy.”
He grins. “Then by all means, continue. But can we take this on the road? We have a plane to catch. Unless”—he looks down pointedly—“is it true pregnancy makes women extra horny?”
