Chapter Four
Xan looked down at his good girl. She kept her head down. She knew better than to defy that rule. He’d spanked that plump bottom so many times over that he’d begun to wonder if she’d ever learn. Blythe had come a long way in a short time, and Xan didn’t want her thinking or seeing him as some alien creature with no heart, but he liked obedience. It mattered to him.
Quiet, immediate submission to his authority.
He was still working on the quiet part…and in all actuality, he may never fully attain that goal. She seemed unable to curtail it one hundred percent, and part of him liked having a reason to paddle her ass.
Blythe more than likely thought Xan was cruel making her sit like this, not even allowing her to look at her baby, but he decided long ago that her deferring to him when it came to their baby was important. And there was no better time to establish the chain of command for his household than the present.
He’d be the leader of their household, and his woman would defer to him even when it came to their baby. He did not doubt that if she objected to anything with regard to Tegan, she’d voice it loud and clear, but she’d find out quickly that he’d take her opinion into consideration, but the final decision would rest with him.
Forcing his girl to refrain from speaking, looking or even touching her daughter until he gave her permission kept his authority at the forefront of her mind, saving them confusion later after her birth.
Xan stroked his daughter lightly—her skin was smooth and almost a milky translucent—like thin, see through veemenar used as a protective coating on many products on their planet. Her eyes were open now; they were a pale blue. But her curls, dark hair with soft curls around her head, were a trait from him. His little girl. Her hand was the size of his thumbnail. He worried that she was too small, but Blythe and the data he’d reviewed had said she was right where she should be, even a little bigger than normal more than likely because of her Pra’kirean DNA.
“Rise, pet.”
He watched Blythe gracefully rise with a fluidity that had been absent when she first arrived. He wrapped his arm around her waist, nodding for her to slip her hand into the other glove. A familiar tingle behind his nose signaled that his eyes were welling with tears. The love and reverence in Blythe’s face every time she visited made him swell with pride. She was such a good mother.
Her eyes flitted toward him, waiting for permission.
“You may touch her. Be gentle; her skin is very delicate.”
But she couldn’t resist. –She rolled her eyes, stopping mid-roll, but she’d been caught, and she knew it too.
“Later.” The one word was more than a warning or threat. It was a promise of future retribution.
She nodded silently. “Yes, Sir.” Her small hand brushed along Tegan’s arm, the little girl so alert for her gestational age. She turned, focusing on Blythe.
“She’s…looking at me.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she brought a trembling hand to her mouth.
“Her eyes are so blue. I’m hoping they’ll be like yours.” Xan fought against the tears again.
What is happening to me? I’m tearing up every time I visit her.
“Oh, Caucasian babies have blue eyes. At least on Earth they do. Are they blue here too?” Her deep green eyes searched his face for an answer.
“No, they’re usually dark brown here.”
Blythe ran her fingers through the dark curls. “She’s such a beauty…and hair just like yours.”
He watched her face closely to see if she’d smirk or if she’d given a sarcastic barb, but she had a hint of a smile on her lips, her eyes brightening, and she murmured quietly. She dripped with love.
“Oh…Oh, no!” Her mouth opened and she gawped at him before grabbing his arm. “I…oh shit!”
Before he could reprimand her for swearing, milk spurted from her right breast. She covered it with both hands, squealing loudly, the bluish-white fluid pooling on the floor by her bare feet.
“Shhh-shhhh! You’re scaring our baby, pet.” His one hand still stroked Tegan lightly while the other grasped Blythe’s long neck, pressing on the sides just enough for her to feel his strength but not enough to hurt her. “Calm down. Settle.” He rumbled the words into her ear, repeating settle until her pulse slowed under his hand.
“It’s just your milk; this is what you want, girl. You want it to release when your little girl needs you. Isn’t it great? She needs you!”
Dropping his grip on her neck, he pushed her hands away, pinching her nipple—hard—the milk ceasing immediately.
Her giggle made him smile. “She does need me, and I need her too.” Looking at the floor, she shook her head, “Look at the mess.”
“I’ll get someone to clean it later. Enjoy your girl.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Slipping his hand from the glove, he replaced it with her much smaller one. Grabbing a nearby gown, he tossed it onto the floor covering the wet area.
Such a waste of milk. Pity.
Leaning against the exam table, he crossed his legs at the ankle. His girls. Soon he’d be a daddy—responsible not only for the care of his woman, but for the little being their flesh made…their love and commitment brought onto Pra’kir. What did he know about babies? Nothing. He knew even less about human babies. What if he failed? Would she leave him for another alien if he couldn’t care for them? Could he force her to stay even if she wasn’t happy? Would he want to?
Xan knew if he kept going with this line of thinking, he’d be awake all night—again. He’d been sleeping fitfully for months now. Then he rationalized that he was a doctor, he cured disease, treated illnesses, and had even made his progeny with tissue from his unfertile woman. How difficult could it be to care for a little baby? Somehow he feared that he’d discover that it was harder than all of those combined. And watching the little sweetheart already wrapped around his heart and finger, he knew that he’d give Blythe anything her heart desired…and that included his daughter as well.