Page 44 of Wicked Ambition

Ayla stood in front of the counter and braced herself, but she couldn’t force herself to glance down, not until Oz’s arms went around her from behind. The warmth of his body against herback gave her the courage she needed to look. That’s all it took. The second line was nearly as dark as the control line.

Oz was right. She was pregnant.

Ayla satbeside Oz in a sedan. Not the sedan they used yesterday, but a different one. This car wasn’t as old and decrepit as the other, but it sported dents in multiple locations. They were stuck in traffic. On a Sunday.

She shifted to see his profile. With his long hair and thick stubble, he looked like a member of a biker gang. He appeared dangerous. Frightening. Then he turned, caught her gaze, and his face softened. He reached over and gave her knee a light squeeze before returning it to the wheel. “Hang in there, Pollita. Another mile or so and we should get clear of the jam.”

Questions about the traffic in Trujillo popped into her head, but Ayla didn’t ask because it was a way to avoid thinking about the tough things, not something she cared about. She spotted the tattoo on his hand.Thatshe was interested in.

Ayla had explored every inch of his gorgeous body and knew it was his only one. It raised questions. “What does your tattoo mean?”

There was silence as he maneuvered them through a knot of vehicles. When they were back to a normal level of insanity, he said, “It’s the Celtic symbol for new beginnings.” He glanced over at her. “My background is mostly Irish.”

“Why your hand?”

Oz grimaced. “So I could see it whenever I needed to remind myself.”

That increased her curiosity, but his expression made it clear he was done with the topic. There was something there,something he wasn’t ready to talk about. Ayla let it go. For now. She’d come back to it later. “I don’t think I said this yet, but I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His voice was soft and calming.

“Getting pregnant.”

“No apologies, Pollita. You and I were both there, and we both decided to take the chance. We were in it together then. We’re in it together now.” Oz gave her knee another squeeze. “Do you always apologize for things that aren’t your fault?”

The question startled Ayla enough to stop her immediate denial. More thought tempered her answer. “Maybe. I remember saying I’m sorry a lot as a kid. My dislike of flying caused trouble when we traveled.”

“Did anyone in your family have sympathy about your phobia?”

He glanced over at her for an instant, before refocusing on the road, but it was long enough for Ayla to see the concern in his blue eyes. “Io did. We always sat together with our parents in the row behind us. Io took the middle seat so I wouldn’t have to sit next to a stranger. She would give me her hand on takeoffs and landings.” Her lips curved. “I squeezed so hard, I hurt her. I know I did because I could feel her pain, but she never said anything, and her expression didn’t give anything away.”

“Yet, she couldn’t manage to show up for your birthday celebration.”

Ayla couldn’t read Oz’s tone. “It was her birthday, too,” she pointed out. With a sigh, she added, “Birthdays are just another day to Io. That’s probably her reaction to how over the top our parents were when we were preschoolers.”

“Over the top, how?” Oz stopped at a traffic light, and she got a longer look from him.

“Matching frilly dresses, which Io loathed.” Ayla smiled. “Magicians, children’s television stars, ponies, a long guest list.When we were teenagers and Io mentioned those parties, she said we were shown off like prize-winning dogs.”

He frowned and sped up as the light turned. “What happened to the parties after you started school?”

Ayla turned farther toward Oz. “That’s when Io’s rebellion against dressing alike occurred. My mom lost interest in planning elaborate events after that.”

With a sigh, she settled back into the seat. The wig felt itchy, but she left her hands in her lap, afraid she’d knock it askew if she tried to scratch. She hated wearing the thing—it was as hot and heavy as she feared—but Ayla would go through worse for her sister.

“Io always had my back,” she said. “When I wasn’t brave enough to fight a battle, she charged forward for me. It’s funny, in a way. We don’t share the same interests. She’s usually traveling somewhere for work, and I’d rather stay home, but if I needed her, she’d hop on the first flight and still slay dragons for me. That means more than a birthday celebration.”

Oz was silent for a moment, and Ayla felt her stomach knot. Something about his expression suggested she might have revealed too much.

“So,” he said slowly, “it was your parents not showing up for the belated birthday dinner that bothered you, not your sister’s absence.” He nodded. “Yeah, because you know she’ll be there for you at the drop of a hat, but you don’t have the same faith in your mom and dad.”

Damn, he’d seen through what she’d said and understood what she hadn’t told him.

“They tried. I guess they just didn’t know how to be parents. It was easier on everyone when Io and I were old enough to go to college.”

“I’m sorry,” Oz said, and this time when he squeezed her knee, he left his hand there. Ayla rested her hand on top of his and curled her fingers around him.

They were clear of the jam and moving at a better speed, when she worked up enough courage to say, “I’m scared, Oz. What if I’m a terrible mom? It’s not as if I had any kind of role model to emulate.”

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