His head snapped up, brows crinkling with worry. He pushed off me at once and slid off the bed. The moment I was free to move, I scrambled off the bed and rushed toward the bathroom. I barely managed to reach the toilet before I threw up my tea. Shivering and feeling faint, I sank down to my knees.

LUCA

For a moment I wasn’t sure what to do when Aria fled into the bathroom, but then I moved to follow. I heard her throw up, yet when I entered the room, she knelt on the ground, trembling, her fingers lying limply in her lap and her blonde hair curtaining her face. She looked small and vulnerable, and fierce protectiveness flooded me. My eyes lingered on the small bump as I moved toward her and flushed the toilet. Aria carried our baby. How could she ever consider that I didn’t find her attractive with her bump? She was the most beautiful woman on this planet. The love of my life, and I had almost lost her, given her up. I was a fucking fool.

I took a washcloth out of the cupboard and held it under warm water for a couple of minutes before I returned to Aria, crouched beside her and held it out to her. She took the cloth with an embarrassed “thanks,” then wiped her pale face. She didn’t have to be embarrassed; I had seen so much worse in my life than a pregnant woman throwing up. I rubbed her back gently, worry filling me as I felt her spine protruding too sharply. “Principessa, we should let the Doc take a look at you.”

She tilted her head up, perspiration glistening on her forehead. “But he isn’t even a gynecologist, Luca. I doubt he could help.”

Perhaps she was right. The Doc could patch up knife and bullet wounds faster than anyone I knew, but he usually didn’t deliver babies. “Who’s your gynecologist?”

“Dr. Max Brightley,” she said, and possessiveness reared its ugly head. She had a male gynecologist? The idea that any man saw Aria like that drove me up the walls with jealousy.

Soft laughter bubbled out of Aria, her pale cheeks flushing. “Oh Luca, don’t tell me you are jealous of my doctor?”

“You know I’m a possessive bastard. Why does that still surprise you?”

She shook her head. “Can you help me stand?”

I straightened and lifted her to her feet, supporting her weight. She swayed lightly. “We’re going to that Dr. Max now. I want to have a word with him.”

“Luca,” Aria chided. “I won’t go if it’s only so you can intimidate my doctor.”

“Not only to intimidate. I also want to know why he isn’t capable of stopping you from losing weight.”

“Some things can’t be changed, Luca. Pregnancy isn’t something you can influence. You have to trust in my body.”

I trusted Aria, and I loved her body, but it was obvious that she needed help. I was used to finding a solution to problems, and if I wasn’t able to find a solution myself, I forced people to find one for me—and I was going to make Dr. Brightley see what kind of man he was messing with.

“I need a shower but I’m worried I’ll faint,” Aria said. I led her toward the shower, then turned on the water and waited until it turned warm before I gently led Aria inside and took the shampoo. I squirted a small amount on my palm, but Aria shook her head. “That’s not enough.”

“That’s double of what I’m using,” I said.

Her eyes darted up to my short hair. “If I had short hair like yours, I’d need less shampoo as well.”

“No,” I said with more force than intended.

She rolled her eyes but I could tell that she still didn’t feel well. I doubled the shampoo amount and began massaging it into Aria’s hair. I loved her blonde strands, but cleaning them was a hell of a bother. In the time it took to get every trace of shampoo out, I would have been dressed and on my way to the doctor, but I enjoyed touching her like that. Aria closed her eyes as the warm water streamed down her face, and again my eyes slid lower to the proof of her pregnancy. “How far along are you?”

“Fourteen weeks,” Aria murmured as she glanced up at me. I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. A pregnancy took nine months; that was pretty much all I knew. I wrapped her in it then lifted her out of the shower, careful not to hit her head on the glass.

“I can still walk,” she said with a smile, but I carried her back into the bedroom and set her down on the bench in front of our bed. I took my time drying her, enjoying the feel of her soft skin as my fingertips brushed over it. To think that I had denied myself this for so long.

“Do you know what it is?” I asked, trying to keep my voice relaxed even if the thought that Aria had found out without me at her side felt like a stab to the heart.

“No,” she said softly, raking her fingers through my wet hair. “It’s probably still too soon and I didn’t want to know. I’d hoped we could find out together.” Her voice broke, and I pressed my forehead against her bare thigh. She smelled faintly of vanilla and Aria’s very own clean sweetness.

“We will. I will be there for you every step of the way from now on, I swear.”

I felt Aria nod and when I looked up, she was crying again. “Aria,” I said in a pained voice. “Why are you crying again?”

I hated to see her tears. They made me feel like a monster because I knew I was the reason.

“I’m being emotional because of the hormones, Luca, that’s all.” She tried a smile but it came off shaky. “The due date is in July.”

Five and a half months to go. Suddenly, images of my own father popped up, uninvited and unpleasant. I had few good memories of the man. Matteo and I had definitely never loved him. He hadn’t been what anyone would consider a good father, not even in our world. How was I supposed to be a father to our child? Aria, she was a natural caretaker, but I was a destroyer, a killer.

Those thoughts tormented me as I helped Aria get dressed. She chanced the occasional glance at me, obviously picking up on my mood. Insecurity filled her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, principessa,” I told her, linking our fingers.

She gave a hesitant nod. “You don’t look happy.”

“I’m happy that you are pregnant, Aria, trust me,” I said firmly. I raised our linked hands and kissed her palm. “How could I not be happy about a small version of you?”

Her expression relaxed. “It could be a boy, then it would be a small version of you.”

My stomach tightened. I knew Made Men, especially a Capo, were supposed to produce an heir, but I didn’t want a son. With a son the chances that I’d act like my father to make the boy strong were too great. I didn’t want to become like him. Again Aria picked up on my hesitation, and frowned at me. Fuck. She knew me too well.

“You want a girl?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. There was no sense in pretending I didn’t care about the gender.

She searched my face as if the answers to her questions were hidden there. “Are you worried you won’t be able to love a son like a daughter?”

“I’ll love our child no matter the gender because it’s your flesh and blood, Aria. But with a boy, I’d need to think of his future.” I didn’t say more, didn’t want to elaborate. There was no use in discussing this when we didn’t even know if it was a boy.