Page 88 of Lost Prince
His eyes turn feral. “A shower with you will lead to dirty things.”
My girlie parts light up. “I like dirty things.”
He looks at my belly again. “It’s okay? I mean… we won’t hurt the baby?”
I roll my eyes. “No, we won’t hurt the baby.”
Lazaro leads me to the ensuite bathroom, stripping his clothes along the way. As he turns on the water to let it heat up, I admire the play of muscles across his back. He catches me looking and smirks, making me blush.
I undress, loving the way his gaze roams over my body. I’m no super model, but Lazaro seems to like my curves. When we’re naked, Lazaro pulls me into the shower and holds me close, skin against skin. The warm water cascades over us.
Lazaro reaches for the soap, washing his hands, wincing slightly as he rubs his knuckles. “He’s not dead.”
I look up at him. “What?”
“Hartley. I didn’t kill him. I wanted to… but… I didn’t want to become like him.”
My heart fills with emotion. Lazaro has been tormented by the more violent side of himself. “You’re not like him.”
“I didn’t kill his father. I’m sure of it.”
I get the feeling he’s needing me to see him as something other than the reputation that follows him.
I press my hands on his chest. “You got your memory back.”
He shakes his head. “No. Not all of it, anyway. When I saw him, though, all these images came flying into my head.”
“Perhaps that incident was what blocked your memory. Now that it’s come back, perhaps your other memories will too.” For a moment, worry fills me. What if his memories come back and he returns to being the old Lazaro? The one who never settled for a single woman?
He shrugs. “Maybe.” As if he knows my fears, he uses the crook of his finger to tilt my head up to look at him. “But it won’t change how I feel about you.”
I have to take his word for it. He kisses me as if to seal his commitment to me. Then he reaches for the shampoo.
I playfully snatch it away. "Let me," I say, pouring some into my palm.
I work the shampoo into his dark hair, massaging his scalp. Lazaro lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing in pleasure. It feels wonderfully intimate to care for him like this.
"Your turn," Lazaro murmurs when I'm done. His strong hands are gentle as he washes my hair, his fingers working out the tension I didn't realize I was carrying. I lean into his touch, savoring the moment.
As we rinse off, Lazaro's hands roam over my body, tracing the curves of my hips and the swell of my stomach where our baby grows. His touch is reverent, full of love and wonder.
He lowers to his knees, trailing kisses along my belly. “I feel like I need to apologize for not using a condom, but to be honest, I’m not sorry.” He looks up at me. “You’ve given me everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”
My eyes get watery from emotion. “You’ve given me everything I’ve always wanted.”
He rises, banding his arms around me, his lips finding mine with a kiss so sweet and pure. “I promise to be the best husband and father you could ever want.”
Looking into his eyes, I see the truth of his words, his unwavering commitment to me and our child.
"I know it won't always be easy.” Lazaro’s thumb gently caresses my face, pushing away strands of my wet hair stuck to my cheek. "I know I’m a difficult man?—”
“Not to me, you’re not.”
His smile is fast and easy, so unlike when I first met him.
“You keep me in line. And I promise you, I’ll protect you and the baby.”
I’m starting to have questions like where we’ll live. Will we stay here or get our own place? I don’t mind either except it might be weird around Anna and the girls. Will I work? Can I work? I don’t want to be idle. Maybe I can work with Piper in her nonprofit that helps domestic violence victims. I don’t need answers now. One thing about me—I’m always ready for a new adventure and I don’t need a plan or to know what’s next. I’m happy to take life as it comes. It’s how I found Lazaro.