His Pregnant Christmas Bride(61)

As he lowered her down on their bed. But as he came down half over her, started kissing her, she stopped him. And he knew why.

He’d previously explained who Cypher was, leaving out as much as he could. Which clearly hadn’t satisfied her. She had more questions. Ones he didn’t know if he ever could, or should, answer.

“Have any of you texted Cypher back?” she asked.

“If we could have we would. Cypher is the only one in our brotherhood who’s my equal in cyber powers. He hid from even me all these years. I have no idea where he’s been, what he’s been doing. Or even who he is anymore.”

“You all looked so...shaken at his message.”

“We hadn’t expected to hear from him after all these years.”

“You said it didn’t end well between you. All of you?”

“Yes.” He hated talking about this, would rather be extracting molars without anesthesia. Before Anastasia could hit him with another question he only had to evade, he stretched her arms above her head. “Now enough of this. Let me make love to my bride.”

And for a very long time, he did just that.

* * *

After he’d drowned them both in the ecstasy of their unity twice, Anastasia stirred in his arms.

He was savoring the drugged cast in her eyes and his own satisfaction when her question hit him out of left field. Damn. He’d managed to forget everything that existed outside of this room. Until now.

“Does this visit Cypher said to expect worry you?”

He rose above her, smiled reassuringly, and told her his very first, and what he intended to be his very last, barefaced lie.

“Of course not.”

* * * * *