Page 84 of Tempting Kat
“Well, that's fucking reassuring,” I mutter, but I find myself covering his hand with mine, both of us cradling my still-flat belly. “What about Tessa? How’s she going to feel about this?”
“She'll adjust,” he says with a confidence that both infuriates and reassures me. “She's gonna be shocked; she'll come around. Especially when she sees how happy you make me.”
“Do I?” I ask, hating the vulnerability in my voice. “Make you happy?”
His eyes darken, his hand tightening on my hip. “Happy doesn't begin to cover it, Katarina. You make me fucking insane. You challenge me, fight me, fuck me better than anyone ever has. You've crawled under my skin and into my blood. You’re the fucking air I breathe.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath. I turn in his arms to face him, studying the raw honesty in his eyes. This man—this arrogant, controlling, infuriating man—loves me with an intensity that should terrify me.
Instead, it makes me feel powerful. Wanted. Safe.
“I'm not going to be some perfect little housewife,” I warn him, tracing the outline of the tattoo on his chest. “I'm still going to fight you on everything.”
“I wouldn't want you any other way. A docile Katarina wouldn't be my Katarina. And make no mistake you are mine. Mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to worship. My pretty little obsession.”
Life is hard and messy and unpredictable, but I think I finally found someone who makes living worth it. I’m going to throw it all to the wind and dive headfirst. Into love, into motherhood and whatever else may come my way.
Epilogue
CONRAD
Iwatch my pregnant goddess waddle through the backyard, one hand supporting her lower back, the other cradling her swollen belly. Six fucking months of watching Katarina grow with my child, and I still get hard every time I see her.
“Stop staring at my ass, Conrad,” she calls over her shoulder, not even bothering to turn around.
“Not gonna happen,” I call back, taking a swig of my bourbon. “That ass belongs to me. So does the rest of you.”
She flips me off without looking, and I laugh. Even six months pregnant, she's still bratty as hell.
I scan the backyard, taking in the bizarre collection of people gathered for this baby shower Francesca insisted on throwing. Said we “needed” it. Bullshit. I could buy everything our kid could ever need ten times over. But my girl wanted to make her sister happy, so here we are.
Francesca stands near the ridiculous balloon arch, arranging gift bags with military precision. Her boyfriend Alexander hovers nearby.
Vivian's chatting with Santiago and his wife near the bar I had set up. Smart woman, heading straight for the alcohol. Matteo is flirting with the bartender.
And then there's my daughter, Contessa, standing awkwardly by the pool, nursing a glass of champagne. She's still getting used to the idea of having a sibling at twenty-four. Can't say I blame her. This wasn't exactly planned.
Well, not by Katarina anyway.
Turns out I didn't even need the pill swap. When we went for the first ultrasound, the doctor said she was already two weeks along when I thought I was being so fucking clever.
Poetic justice, I suppose. The universe has a sick sense of humor.
My eyes drift back to her, watching as she greets people I've never seen before in my life. Friends of hers, I assume. If they matter to her, they matter to me. Even if I'd rather have her all to myself.
“You look like you're plotting someone's murder,” Tessa says, appearing at my side with a fresh glass of bourbon.
I accept it with a nod of thanks. “Just thinking.”
“About?” She raises an eyebrow, looking so much like her mother it makes my chest ache.
“How fucking strange this all is,” I admit, gesturing to the backyard filled with people. “A year ago, I was alone in this house. Now I've got a pregnant girlfriend and a fucking baby shower in my backyard.”
“You going to join your own party, or just stand there looking homicidal?” Matteo appears on the other side of me, holding a glass of something amber.
“I'm contemplating murder. Give me a minute.”
He laughs, the fucker. “Your woman looks happy. Focus on that.”
