Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(83)
“If he managed to give you a nano heart, Azami, the world would . . .”
“No one else survived. And the world would treat me just as he treated me. I’d be a freak and an experiment.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped back, her eyes dark with pain. “I have no idea how long the heart will last. I can’t go to a mainstream doctor, not for any reason. What would people call me? Some would go so far as to say I’m not human.”
Sam stepped close to her, covering that small distance with one easy step. He caught the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead against hers. “Listen to me, Azami. Whatever you are, wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. People don’t get chances like this often. I’m no kid, and I never expected to find a woman I would cherish.” He straightened, dropped his hands, and paced away from her and then back to stand in front of her. “I don’t need much, Azami. I built this house because I wanted a home. It didn’t feel like one until you were in it. I want your body just the way it is. And as for your heart, as long as it’s beating, I swear you could have a cyborg’s heart and I’d be happy. Stay with me. The hell with Whitney or anyone else who wants to step on our happiness. When those doors close, it’s just you and me. No one else.”
Sam took both of her hands and pulled them to his chest, holding them tight against him. “I can make you happy. I know I can. Whatever it takes. Whatever you need. Give yourself to me, all of you. Thorn, Azami, good and bad, let me have you.”
“Sammy.” She whispered his name in the stillness of the night. Azami’s heart twisted inside her chest. The mutant organ might not be all human, but it didn’t stop her from falling in love with this man. How could she not? “Are you so certain that you really want me? Have you considered that if he gave me such a heart and the DNA of an animal, that any child we have might be . . . different?”
Sam studied her face. There it was. Her real fear. The number one fear. She’d let him see the truth of her and now she’d just exposed the one thing that made her most vulnerable. This was the reason she thought her father didn’t feel she was fit to become a wife. Not the scars. Not the white hair. A child. Her child. Their child.
“Damn it all to hell, Azami,” he said, between his teeth. “Don’t you ever f*cking protect me like this again. Hell, woman, I could have had a heart attack at the thought of you leaving me.”
And wasn’t she good to keep it all out of her mind, hiding her true fear from him, masking it with red herrings. She did feel vulnerable. She did feel all those things she’d told him, but combined, they weren’t enough to send her running, especially when he was making love to her without protection. He hadn’t even considered protection. He planned to marry her as soon as it was possible and having children was part of the program. But he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t discussed it with her.
Azami moistened her lips, her gaze still locked with his. “You’re angry now.”
“Damn right, I am. At you. At me for being so dense that I didn’t even discuss children or protection with you.” He shoved a hand through his hair and regarded her flushed face. “Why would you think you couldn’t have a child?”
She took a breath and let it out. “Whitney said I was useless, a throwaway. What does he want most, Sam? Children. Superbabies. He conducted all sorts of experiments on me and then he threw me away. Doesn’t it stand to reason that he believes I either can’t have a child or that it would be defective?”
Sam opened his mouth to protest but snapped it closed before anything could escape. This was a big deal to her. A huge deal. Whitney had colored her entire image of herself. He’d parented her in her formative years, those vital years, and he’d treated her as if she wasn’t human. He took away her self-esteem, her worth as a human being. To a woman, at least to Azami, having a child obviously meant something important.
He took a deep breath, let it out, and pushed away the rage that churned in his gut. Fury at Whitney, that monster who would dehumanize a child so he could use her for experiments, and even more at himself for pushing her so fast because she’d turned his body into a f*cking walking hard-on. What he needed to do was defuse the situation and let both of them calm down a little bit and think things through. To Azami, the subject was obviously very emotional and frightening as well as being significant to her. He was sexually frustrated as well as feeling like a complete selfish idiot.
“Let’s discuss this over tea. I’m not going to be great at it, but you can teach me. I’d like to learn how to properly prepare you a good cup of tea. You drank the tea in the war room, but you didn’t enjoy it. This is an important issue to you, Azami. We need to get it hashed out. Let’s do it over a cup of tea.”
“It would be your baby too,” she declared. “It should be an important issue to you as well. You’re so willing to be with me and you don’t fully know all the risks.” She ducked her head. “I should have disclosed everything right away, as soon as I knew you were serious.”
He had said the right thing. The tension drained from her face, and her desperate, vulnerable expression was gone. She had a point. A baby would be his. His child. He had just assumed it wouldn’t matter to her about children, because, although he wanted some, she would always be his first priority. If she couldn’t have them, or didn’t want them, so be it. He turned to lead her out of the room where their combined scents with the oil weren’t so potent. He needed a little relief himself.