To Love a Devil (The Princess and The Devil Book 2), page 8
“This will be a little cold. Just stay still.”
True to his word, as soon as the probe covered with jelly touches my stomach, I tense at the cool touch. All that worry, all that fear, is suddenly stripped away when I hear it. The static and deep whoosh-whoosh that fills the air. My eyes dart toward his, moon-like with questions.
“Is that…?”
“The baby’s heartbeat?” he supplies. “Yes. Incredible, right?”
I blow out a sharp breath, emotions clogging my throat. “Very.”
He moves the probe around, staring at the screen with a frown, and does this a while longer until satisfied with what he sees. He wipes my stomach clean, and I sit up, feeling antsy.
“So?”
“Everything looks great. Strong heartbeat. I’d guess from the measurements that you’re around five, almost six, weeks. You’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins. I took the liberty of grabbing these for you. Once a day, every day. Preferably in the morning.”
“And what about the nausea?”
“Ginger ale and saltines. If that still doesn’t work, we’ll figure something out.” He turns his back to me, clicking away at his portable machine he brought with him.
“How did you bring all this in without Giovanni noticing, anyway?”
“Explained it was an ultrasound system for your cousin, in case there were any internal injuries we’d need to worry about.”
“Is there?”
“No, I don’t believe there is.”
There’s suddenly the loud sound of something being printed and I frown, trying to see around his broad back to what he could possibly be doing.
“Here, this is for you.” He hands me a black grainy picture, a white static blob in the center. I run my finger over the image. It doesn’t look like much at the moment, but that’s our baby. Inside of me.
“I take it you haven’t told him.”
I peer up, blinking past the moisture in my eyes. My guilt is cumbersome.
I shake my head, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth.
He glances toward the closed door before he leans forward, lowering his voice. “You want my opinion? Don’t tell him. This isn’t a life you want to raise a child in. I’ve seen the things he’s been through. I’ve had to watch horrors on some occasions as well. Get out and save yourself and that baby.”
I flinch as though he slapped me.
“He’s not that bad. Azriel would make a great father.”
Blake scoffs. “Would he really? If that’s the case, why haven’t you told him yet? Why am I meeting his wife in secret?”
There’s a ruckus in my chest. My heart takes a beating at the accusation. “This is not a secret,” I argue.
He gives me a pointed look. “Right. Take my advice, or don’t. I’m just letting you know, the chances of that baby having a normal and safe life gets smaller and smaller the longer you stay here.”
Setting the bottles beside me, he packs up his stuff and moves on to check on Francesca. My words stop him at the threshold of the door.
“Even if I did try to leave and save my child, he’d never let that happen. You know that just as well as I do.”
He throws a look at me over his shoulder. I don’t like the implications there. “I can help. Just say the word. I can make you and your child disappear safely.”
Blake leaves and the room is filled with a tomb-like silence. The stillness is disconcerting. Uncomfortable.
I peek down at the image and my heart pangs.
What would my mother have done?
An echo of pain blooms in my chest when I realize I don’t have a single clue.
Wiping away the moisture on my face, I tuck the small photo into my pocket and shove the bottle of vitamins under my shirt. I’ll need to find a place to keep them hidden, which is tough considering Azriel knows my every move in this palace.
Figuring now is better than later, I head up to our bedroom and search for a secure place to hide the items. Since Dr. Blake is busy checking on Franny, I’m sure Giovanni is outside the door, waiting for an update. I haven’t had the courage to ask him about her and why he’s grown so protective, but something tells me Gio feels a lot more than he lets on. Maybe I was wrong about him, too. About all of the men in Azriel’s life. They have hearts, hidden deep beneath the darkness they wear so proudly.
I rifle through drawers, trying to find the perfect space, but pause when an idea comes to me.
Feminine products.
That would be the last place Azriel would search for something, and I don’t plan on giving him a reason to go searching. Not until I have time to think about this. Really think about this decision.
Keeping a man from his child is wrong and heartless.
But protecting this child is at the top of my list and I fear Fran and Blake may be right, that our child is not safe in this world. Even if his father would burn down the world to find us. To protect us.
It’s an impossible decision.
One I can’t even fathom making.
The thought of leaving Az hurts. I can’t breathe when I think about it.
With trembling hands, I dump out the box of tampons, and at the bottom of the box, I take the photo, readying myself to place it at the bottom. My hands shake at the deception.
This is so wrong.
What the hell am I doing?
Forcing those feelings aside, I place it inside the box and reach for the prenatal vitamins, but I pause at the dark figure standing in the doorway. A scream works its way up my throat, and I stumble back. With my heart racing and my hand over my chest, I stare up at Giovanni’s face.
“What the hell are you doing?’’ I bite out, trying to shove the tampons back in the box, hoping like hell he didn’t see anything. I didn’t even hear when he came in. He usually knocks. Makes his presence known somehow.
“Asteria.”
His tone of voice stops me in my tracks.
My heart drops.
Slowly, I peer up at him through my lashes. The scar running the length of his face seems harsher than usual in this moment. “This is not a good idea.”
I swallow the fear in my throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I glance back down at the tampon box, avoiding his probing and accusing gaze.
“Running will not help. It is reckless of Blake to even advise such a thing.”
My gaze snaps up to his. My mouth opens and closes like that of a gaping fish. “How did you know? How did you—”
“You are not fooling anyone. Least of all me. The sickness, the lies, the private meeting with Blake, and now you’re hiding stuff. It won’t be long before Azriel catches on, if he hasn’t already.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“Yes.”
With a frustrated growl I toss the box aside and shove to my feet, crowding his space. “You have no idea what I’m going through. I have no other choice.”
He scoffs. “There is always a choice. If you truly think you’re better off with a baby on your own, you’re even more childish than I thought.”
I recoil.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes.
I swear I even see a hint of regret on Giovanni’s face.
Sidestepping him, I storm out of the bedroom. Away from him. Away from the pain his words have evoked.
He calls after me, in an apologetic tone, but I raise my hand, flipping him the bird instead.
In the heat of my aggravation, I find myself sitting at the fountain in the center of the hedge maze, wiping the tears from my eyes. I’m pissed off.
At myself.
At Giovanni.
I wish the answer to this would fall into my lap. I wish I didn’t feel like I was being torn in two separate directions. A throat clears behind me. I don’t bother turning to look.
“I should not have said what I did back there. I did not realize it would hurt you.”
My bottom lip wobbles. “Don’t bother. You’re right. I am a child. A stupid, foolish child, who is now carrying a child of her own.”
Giovanni sighs and takes a seat next to me on the stone bench. “You are not foolish, Asteria.”
“Aren’t I? Who gets pregnant at this age? Who the hell brings a baby into a world like this, Gio?”
His eyes yield with pity. “Plenty of people.”
I scoff, glancing away. “Things just barely started to feel normal for us. As normal as anything can be in this life. How am I supposed to explain this to him?”
“You just do it. You’re doing fine now.”
I brush his words off. “This is different.”
“Why?” he pushes.
“Because you’re not the father of my child. It’s not going to break my heart in half if you tell me you don’t want to keep it. If you resent me for getting pregnant. If you look at me differently for ruining everything between us.”
“And is that how you think he will react to the news?”
A tear rolls down my cheek.
My sinuses burn.
“Y-yes. I know he will. Why wouldn’t he? He’s the king of the underworld, right? Ruthless. The one everyone wants to take out and replace. What happens when others find out about this baby, about us? What happens then, Gio?”
“And what happens when you run away with this child to start over, and someone finds out who you are? Who will protect you then? Dr. Blake?”
I turn away. “I don’t know. I just… I wanted options. I wasn’t even going to go through with it. At least, I don’t think.”
“You have to tell him.”
“How? How am I supposed to do that?”
He shrugs. “You find a way.”
Sucking in a lungful of air, I wipe away my tears and nod. “I will. Once I’m ready.”
He sighs and tilts his head back, staring up at the sky as though he’s asking the heavens for help. “Of course.”
“In the meantime, can you keep this between us?”
He shakes his head, his lips pressed together in a grim line. “Don’t make me promise that. My loyalty is to Azriel.”
“I know it is. Just…please, Giovanni, give me this.”
He glares down at the ground, his jaw working with frustration. Seconds tick by and I realize silence is his answer. Giovanni won’t betray Azriel. I knew this.
“Fine.” He says it like the word is acid on his tongue.
Without another word, Giovanni storms away, a stiffness to his shoulders that makes the guilt crush my chest to the point of pain.
After dinner, Azriel finds me in his library curled up on the ottoman with a book and a cup of tea in hand.
“Cozy.”
A smile spreads across my face when I see him leaning against the doorframe, watching with warmth in his gaze.
“Long day of fighting crime?”
He chuckles, entering the room. “Something like that.”
I pat the spot next to me in silent invitation. He takes it, settling beside me and pulling me into his arms. My tea and book are forgotten, my focus now solely fixed on him. I run my fingers down the sharp planes of his face. I commit his features to memory and trace them, wondering if our child will get his bright green eyes, or will they get my blue ones? Will they come out with a golden tan complexion or my lackluster one?
Dragging my thumb over his soft lips, I whisper, “I love you.”
His eyes turn to molten pools of lava, and his arms tighten around me.
“Il mio amore.”
My heart pinches in my chest at the words. They’re few and far between, something he doesn’t offer lightly, and having him say it here? It means everything to me. The guilt I’ve been suppressing rears its ugly head, causing my eyes to water.
The pad of Azriel’s thumb swipes under my eye and they flutter closed on instinct.
“You look tired.”
They open and I stare up at him. I wonder what he sees when he looks down at me. Does he see the guilt written all over my face? Can he taste the lies on my tongue when he kisses me?
My heart pangs at the thought.
He swipes away the frown line between my brows, his face growing serious. “What’s wrong?”
I smile, and no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Nothing. I guess I am tired. I haven’t been sleeping well. I think it’s the…stress of everything.”
It’s a low blow and I feel like such a shitty human for bringing it up, for blaming it on that. Azriel’s jaw flexes with displeasure and he glances away, like he’s gathering himself.
“I’m sorry.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes and I shake my head, cupping his stubbled jaw and forcing his gaze down to look at me.
“Stop it.”
“You deserve more than this.”
His words strike me in the heart and a tear glides down my cheek.
He’s wrong.
I don’t deserve him.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nods, moss green eyes searching my blues with earnest. “Of course.”
“I know you’ve mentioned you donate to charities, but I was wondering, what do you think about me making a list of other potential charities we can donate to? It doesn’t have to be much, but I’d like to give back, any way I possibly can.”
“Okay.”
His response surprises me. “That’s it? You’re not going to inquire about it anymore than that?”
He smirks. “I don’t need to. If it’s something you want. Something that will make you happy, I’m all for it.”
A lump swells in my throat, blocking my airway, keeping me from responding. Blinking past the burning in my eyes, I trace the sharp line of his jaw and press a soft kiss to his lips.
“Thank you.”
“Always, cara mia.”
My chest cracks open and ice dribbles slowly from the open wound. “And forever.”
Closing my eyes, I try to think about what life might be like if I never tell Azriel. If I leave. I’d never get this. I’d never have this intense sensation of love billowing in my chest.
Fighting back my emotions, I swing my leg over his body, and he leans back against the ottoman, watching me closely. Reaching between us, I undo his trousers, stroking his length until he hardens beneath me. His nostrils flare. Those dark eyes ensnare me.
“What are you doing?” he asks, voice rough, filled with barely contained restraint. The effect of it goes straight to my center.
I free his cock and press the tip to my already soaked entrance. His jaw flexes as I rub him there, gliding his head through my folds. My breath catches when I nudge him against my clit. It’s a livewire of electricity. I lean forward, pressing the tip inside of me and I rest my lips near his ear. “Fucking my husband.”
I impale myself on his shaft and both of us groan. Azriel’s hands immediately find purchase on my breasts. He rips down the straps of my red sundress and frees them, toying with my nipples. He cups each one gently, bringing them to his supple lips and sucking on them. The electric bolts of desire shoot straight to my core with each lip, nip, and suck. His eyes never once stray from mine. My muscles pinch around his cock and his eyes flare.
“So fucking perfect,” he breathes across my tits. “Lose yourself, princess. Fuck me.”
Tossing my head back, I grip onto his shoulders for support and I do just that. I ride him until we’re both sweating and panting. Until the sound of wet slapping flesh grows louder than our moans. I ride him until I can’t anymore. Until he shoots inside of me and we’re both coming down from a high that feels like it will never end.
And all the while, my heart beats heavy with guilt.
I was so close this morning.
So close to coming clean and telling Azriel everything. When we were lying in bed, my body wrapped around his, it felt perfect. Like it was exactly what we needed.
I danced my fingers across the broad expanse of his chest, the words nearly falling from my tongue, but they never came. It was like they refused to leave.
“Why the long face, little butterfly?” Romeo asks, nudging me in the shoulder as he takes a seat next to me. I force a smile for his sake, staring out at the rolling hills of the estate.
“Just thinking.”
After breakfast, I spent some time out pruning flowers in the garden before I sat out here on the loungers that overlook the immaculate view of the estate. I’ve been looking at different charities Azriel and I can give to. He compiled a list of some that he already works closely with and I was surprised this wasn’t something that was public knowledge. It’s almost like he prefers to keep his philanthropic side hidden from the world.
At some point, I paused my searching and looked up at the view, my mind wandering. Just like I have every day since finding out, I’ve gone through the pros and cons of telling Azriel and not telling him. Really, I think what it boils down to is cowardice.
I’m afraid of his rejection.
I’m fearful his response won’t be one I can live with.
I’m scared our relationship will take a turn for the worse.
“Here. Have some. It always helps me think.”
Romeo all but shoves his glass of wine at me. I feel my nose curl with distaste and my stomach churns. Delicately, I push the glass back toward him.
“No, thanks.”
“Something else then. Are you a whiskey girl, like your husband?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t want to drink, Rome. Save the alcohol for yourself.”
He’s silent.
“Why not?”
I frown. “Why not what?”
“Why don’t you want to drink?” I feel his eyes assess me. My own narrow in response.
“Maybe because it’s the afternoon and I have nothing to celebrate.”
“I call bullshit,” he quips.
I draw back and stiffen at the darkness in his eyes. My lungs tighten, restricting air. “Why are you asking, Romeo?”
“Why are you dodging the question?”
“Why do you keep asking me questions?” I shoot back.
He downs his wine in one go and turns away from me, fixing his gaze on some random point in the distance. “I know.”
My stomach drops. Sweat coats my palms. “Know what?”
“My mom had eight kids. Crazy, right? Me and my brother were the oldest. We sort of took it upon ourselves to take care of the rest of our siblings. We knew our father wouldn’t do it. Especially if they were girls.”
