Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage(102)

“Karen said everything is normal, that this isn’t a high-risk pregnancy,” she reminded, tensing at all he’d said. “I can still work.”

“Do you want to take chances?”

“Of course not. But I don’t want to be railroaded either. You’re acting like—”

Imperious brows went up. “Like?”

“Like it’s actually going to happen,” she said in a small voice. She watched the toes of her shoes point together. All of her shrank inward, curling protectively around the tiny flicker of life inside her.

“You just said yourself, it’s not high risk.” His voice was gruff, but she heard the tiny fracture in his tone. He wasn’t as steady as he appeared.

“It’s just...to make all these changes and tell people...What if something happens?”

The line of his shoulders slumped. He came to sit beside her, angled on the cushion to face her while he pinched her cold fingers in a tight grip. “I’m going to move whatever mountains need moving to ensure nothing does. We’re going to have this baby, Adara.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her brow stayed pleated in worry, her mouth tremulous. A very tentative ray of hope in her eyes remained firmly couched, not allowed to grow.

Gideon clenched his teeth in frustration that sheer will wasn’t enough. “I realize you’re scared,” he allowed.

“I may not be high risk, but there’s still a risk,” she insisted defensively.

She was breaking his heart. “I’m not disregarding that. But my coping strategy is to reduce the chances of any outcome but the one I want and go full steam ahead.”

“And the outcome you want is...a baby?”

“Is there any doubt?” He sat back, unable to fathom that she’d imagine anything else.

“I asked you what you were thinking and you started talking about architects and Tokyo, like this was a massive inconvenience to your jam-packed schedule.”

His breath escaped raggedly. “I’m a man. My first thoughts are practical—secure food and shelter. I’m not going to hang my heart out there and admit to massive insecurities at not knowing how to be a father, or reveal that I’m dying of pride.”

Her mouth twitched into a pleased smile. “Or own up to whether you’d prefer a boy or a girl?” Underlying her teasing tone was genuine distress. Adara would have had more value in her father’s eyes if she’d been a male, they both knew that.

That wasn’t why he took her question like a lightning rod to the soul, though, flinching then forcing his expression smooth. “I’ve always wanted a girl,” he admitted, feeling very much as if his vital organs were clawed from him and set out on display. “So we could name her Delphi, for my mother.”

Adara paled a bit and he knew he’d made a mistake. He could practically see her taking on responsibility for never giving him that.

“Babe—”

“It’s a lovely name,” she said with a strained, sweet smile. “I’d like it very much if we could do that.”

But she wasn’t like him, willing to bet on long shots. Her cheekbones stood out prominently as she distressed over whether she could come through for him. He didn’t know how to reassure her that this wasn’t up to her. He had never blamed her, never would.

“Will you wait here a minute?” He kissed her forehead and stood, leaving to retrieve the ring he’d wanted to give her last night. When he returned, he sat on the edge of the sofa again, then thought better and dipped onto one knee. “I bought this to mark our fifth anniversary, but...”

Adara couldn’t help covering a gasp as he revealed the soft pink diamond pulsing like a heart stone of warmth from the frozen arrangement of white diamonds and glinting platinum setting.

“No matter what happens, we have each other.” He fit the ring on her right hand.

Her fingers spasmed a bit, not quite rejecting the gift, but this seemed like a reaffirmation of vows. She had been prepared to throw their marriage away a few weeks ago and didn’t know if she was completely ready to recommit to it, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice her hesitations when her ears were still ringing with his words about his mother. Every time she’d lost a baby, his mother had died for him again. Small wonder he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve.

Given time, would it become more accessible?

He kissed her knuckles and when he looked into her eyes, his gaze was full of his typical stamp of authority, already viewing this as a done deal. The impact was more than she could bear.

Shielding her own gaze, she looked at his mouth as she leaned forward to kiss him lingeringly. “Thank you. I’ll try to be less of a scaredy-cat if you could, perhaps, let me tell my mother before calling the architect?”