Je Suis à Toi
As if no time had passed, I said, “I saw those papers on your desk. I know the ones you mean.”
Q stood ramrod straight. “We’re doing this now?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
A cloak of despondency settled over him. “Fine.” His fingers moved stealthy, undoing his tailored jacket and slipping it down his arms. Standing with only the slightest wobble, he undid his cufflinks, threw them to the floor, and rolled up his shirt cuffs. His tie was undone and tossed over the arm of the wingback while the first few buttons of his black shirt were undone to reveal a tease of the tattoo on his chest.
I didn’t know if he was preparing to talk or attack me.
My breathing turned feathery. Did he have to do that? In just a few motions, he’d made this layered with sex.
“Where do you want to start, Q?”
He chuckled with black undertones, “Oh, I can think of a few places.” He stalked me.
I parried back. If I let him touch me, it would be all over. The air crackled with pent-up lust. My voice wobbled. “Why did you get so upset? Why won’t you talk to me?”
“First, tell me what you saw.”
“I already told you.”
“No, you didn’t.” He shook his head, his eyes flashing. “Along with the animal charities, what else have I donated heavily to?”
My heart chased my lungs around. This was it. I didn’t look away. “Orphanages.”
His posture stiffened. “And—”
“And supporting unwanted babies with medical issues.”
He continued to corral me around the room. “Any idea why I would suddenly have the urge to help in that way after a lifetime of no interest?”
I shrugged, but I couldn’t hide the knowledge from blaring on my face.
He kept chasing me, backing me into the same desk that he’d swiped everything off and made me vow to love him no matter what. The polished wood stopped my retreat. He had me trapped. “Q…”
Deleting the space between us, he bared his teeth. “Yes, Tess?”
“I don’t know…”
“Yes, you do.”
“I need you to say it—”
He chuckled angrily. “No, you don’t. According to Frederick, you know more than you’ve let on.”
I do. Or at least, I think I do. But why won’t he admit it?
Feigning ignorance, I tried again. “Tell me...”
“Why should I?”
“Because I want the truth.”
He snarled. “The truth?”
My spine tensed. “Yes.”
Q jerked hands through his hair. “Okay…the truth.” Taking a shaking breath, he growled, “I want something I didn’t think I’d ever want.”
“You want to adopt?”
His glare pinned me into a panting statue. “Try again, esclave.”
Oh, my God.
I was right.
I’d wondered if this would ever happen. If Q would change his mind about having a family. He said he didn’t want one. How could he switch so quickly?
“You want a child?”
He didn’t reply, but his eyes glowed a deeper, truer green full of confession and guilt.
Why did he feel guilty? There was nothing to be guilty about. People changed their minds all the time.
My hastily formed conclusions from earlier turned from seedlings into thick roots threading through my heart.
A family…
“Is that true?”
His eyes dove into mine. “As much as I wish it wasn’t, yes, it’s true.”
“You’re helping with charities because your mind has turned to babies.”
A black cloud descended over him. “And what does that tell you, Tess?”
“You want a baby?”
His face hardened. “With?”
“With me?” My fingers fluttered over my chest. I wobbled at the thought of getting everything I’d ever dreamed of. I’d accepted his condition about not having children because I loved him enough to be complete without it. But hearing him admit to a change of heart…
I couldn’t explain the fizzing giddy sensation making its way through my blood.
I wanted to touch him, hug him…finally tell him my opinions about such a revelation. Imagine sharing our wonderful life with a child of our own…wow. Even though I’d known Q’s stance on starting a family, it didn’t mean I hadn’t tested his conviction over a year ago.
Dinner one night, I’d brought it up—very suave with no pressure—and Q hadn’t been interested in the slightest. I’d remained on my contraception injections and didn’t mention it again.
He’d been through a lot with his family, and I hadn’t had the best experience, either. If he didn’t want children, then I wouldn’t pressure him. I hadn’t brought it up again, which made this all the more precious because he’d come to this realisation on his own with no prompting or hinting from me.
He hadn’t replied.
I repeated my breathless question. “You’re saying you want a baby with me?”
Trembling, Q placed his hands on either side of me, hemming me against the desk. His eyes shot black, dropping to my lips as the heart-stopping words spilled from his lips. “More than fucking anything.”
“But…I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand? I’ve had a change of heart. I never wanted kids, and now…now, I want it more than fucking anything because I love you. I want to multiply you. I want you pregnant with my, our child.”