The Tyrant (Banker #3)(25)

“Oh my god, she’s the most precious thing.” Mother held her on the couch in the living room, her arms enveloping Martina in a warm gray blanket. “Aww…she has your eyes, honey.” She held her against her shoulder and gently swayed her from side to side. “She’s so perfect.”

Bates sat beside her, looking at the baby like he wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

Mother hogged Martina for a long time, ignoring the other two people who were there to see her. She patted the back of Martina’s head and hummed quietly under her breath like she was singing her to sleep.

I sat beside Siena on the other couch, my hand on her thigh. “Mother.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said as she handed the baby to Bates. “I’m just so happy to be a grandmother. You got her, honey?”

Bates moved his arms underneath her body then held her the way my mother did. “Like this?” He held her still and looked down into her face. “Hey, she does have my eyes.” He looked up and winked at Siena.

“You wanna die?” I threatened.

“Chill.” Bates looked down into Martina’s face. “I’m your uncle. When your father is driving you crazy, come to me. I’ll tell you how to handle him. Thank god you look like your mom. Cato as a woman would not be attractive.” He carried Martina to Landon next.

Landon was a lot more affectionate. “Hey, beautiful.” He leaned back in the armchair and held her close to his body, looking down into her face. “I see so much of my sister in you…and my mother.” Landon smiled as he looked at her, something he didn’t seem capable of doing. He was rigid and cold the way I was, but Martina broke down his walls—just the way she did with me.

Siena moved to the spot beside him, and they looked at her together. “I wish Mama were here.”

“Me too,” he said sadly. “Father too.”

“Yeah…”

“But we’re starting our own families,” Landon said. “You’ll have more babies, and maybe I’ll have some kids. Then our family can grow.”

“I thought you were a terminal bachelor?” she teased.

“Who said I won’t be?” he countered. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have some kids. You and Cato aren’t married, and you have a family.”

Siena lifted her gaze and looked at me. Affection was in her eyes, along with a drop of sadness. Then she looked down at our daughter once more, brushing off the moment. “True. You can still be a family.”





8





Siena





I worried what life would be like once Martina arrived. I didn’t know how Cato would respond to her, if he wouldn’t connect with the baby and then push us both away. I never expected him to take care of her for an entire week just so I could recover.

That man had a big heart.

A week of recovery helped me get back on my feet. My body didn’t ache as much anymore, and labor finally seemed like a distant memory. I had the energy to take care of Martina in the middle of the night, to feed her and rock her so Cato could get some rest.

After everything he’d done for me, I didn’t mind in the least.

It felt so good to take care of her, to feel like a mother. For the week I rested, I felt like a terrible mother. Even though I knew I needed to recover, I still felt guilty that I wasn’t the one spending time with her. Now that I was, my life felt complete.

She was the sweetest thing in the world.

I already wanted another one.

Landon and I were close in age, and I wanted the same for my children. I wanted them to experience the same challenges in life at the same time so those moments could bring them closer together. If something ever happened to Cato or me, I wanted them to always have each other—the way I always had Landon.

After giving her dinner and rocking her to sleep, I placed her in the crib.

She opened her eyes to look at me, to make sure I was still there, before she closed them again.

I loved sleeping with her, but I wanted to begin the separation process sooner rather than later. I wanted her to be independent, to get used to being alone without being scared. And in six weeks, the last thing I wanted was someone in between Cato and me…because we wanted our alone time.

Cato stepped into the room and lingered in the doorway.

I looked up and saw him in the darkness, but I didn’t speak out of fear of waking Martina.

His shadowed frame was difficult to make out, but those powerful shoulders were impossible to deny. He was rigid and stern, his silence somehow full of inexplicable hostility.

It must have been my imagination, because there wasn’t a single reason Cato could be upset with me. The last two weeks had been wonderful. He’d returned to work because I was strong enough to take care of Martina on my own. By the time he came home, Martina was so happy to see him. The second he walked in the door, he picked her up and looked at her like she’d been on his mind all day—not me.

Once Martina was asleep, I walked toward the doorway and got a better view of his expression. It was cold, guarded, and dangerous. As if we were eight months in the past, the cruel and bitter man had returned. His jaw was clenched in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. His blue eyes weren’t so pretty anymore.