We head back to the penthouse, and I grab my robe and head straight for the shower. I just need to be alone right now, to grieve in private. My heart is breaking into pieces over Sam. Not just for his injuries and his physical pain, but for his emotional pain too. I keep thinking about what he told me after I walked in on him and Cooper kissing in Jamie’s kitchen. After Cooper left.

He owns me.

He doesn’t love me, not the way I love him.

I can’t bring myself to leave him. God, help me.

I step naked into the warm spray of water and try to drown my sorrows. “Oh, Sam, if only you could have seen Cooper.” If Sam could have seen what we saw, he’d know that Cooper loves him. He’d know that he owns Cooper just as much as Cooper owns him.

I squeeze my eyes shut and put my face into the spray of water to wash away my tears. A moment later, I hear the glass shower door open and close, and then Shane’s there with me, his naked body a warm comfort pressed against my back. His strong arms come around my waist, oh so gently, as if he’s afraid to hold me too tightly because of the baby. I pull his arms tighter around me, drawing on his strength.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs against my temple. “He’s going to be all right. It’s not your fault, I swear to you.”

He turns me to face him and lets me cry, holding me with my face pressed tightly to his chest. I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my ear, and it comforts me.

“Stupid pregnancy hormones,” I mutter. “I think I’ve cried more in the past few days than I have in my entire life.”

He chuckles as he rubs my back. “That’s okay. You go ahead and cry.”

I must have zoned out at that point, numb, because Shane washes my hair and my body, then rinses me off. The next thing I know, we’re out of the shower. I’ve got my thick robe on, and he’s toweling my hair dry.

“Thank you,” I say, reaching for my comb on the vanity. I have to comb it, or it’ll dry like that.

“I’ll do it.” He sits me down on the stool in front of the vanity, then takes my comb from me and starts slowly untangling the mess.

I just sit there, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face is pale, and my eyes are red and puffy. “I look terrible.”

“No, you look beautiful.”

I laugh. “You’re such a liar.”

“No, it’s true. You always look beautiful.”

After he combs my hair, he blows it dry, slowly and gently, lulling me into a peaceful place. Then he swings me up into his arms and carries me to bed.

“Bedtime for you, young lady,” he says. “If you’re going to insist on going back to work tomorrow, you need a good night’s sleep. You and the baby.”

“Miguel was right. You’re going to be even worse now that there’s a baby coming.”

“Damn right,” he says, tucking me into our bed. “Now, you go to sleep. I’ll be in my office making some calls for work.”

* * *

I can’t sleep. I’ve been lying here for over an hour, and my mind is racing. I keep envisioning Sam in his hospital bed, confused and in pain. I keep remembering the haunted look in Cooper’s bloodshot eyes. And no matter what Shane says, I can’t help thinking it’s my fault Sam’s hurt. That car was aiming for me. Sam saved me, but at what cost to himself?

I get out of bed and grab the first nightgown I find in my dresser drawer – a short, sheer pink nightie – and head down the hallway. The penthouse is dark, all of the lights off except for the nightlight we keep on in the kitchen in case someone gets up in the middle of the night.

Shane’s office door is pulled mostly shut, and I can see a narrow strip of light coming from beneath it. As I get closer, I begin to make out Shane’s voice. He’s talking to someone, presumably on the phone.

“I’m not letting him off the hook, Troy,” Shane says, sounding exasperated. “Of course I want to know who hired Conroy, but I think we can find that out without giving him immunity from prosecution. A shorter sentence, perhaps. I’d consider that. But he’s not getting off free of any charges. Conroy’s going to do prison time – trust me.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, and I can hear Shane’s bare feet pacing the wood floors. “I know Luciana’s behind this. I think I can get her to incriminate herself. If I can get a confession on tape, then we don’t need to offer Conroy any sort of deal.”

I push open the door and step into the room. Shane pauses midstride and turns to face me. He’s dressed only in a pair of gray sweatpants, riding low on his lean hips. The sight of his bare chest makes me weak in the knees.

“Troy, I have to go,” he says, never once taking his eyes off me. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow, all right?”

Shane ends the call and lays his phone on his desk. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Couldn’t sleep?”

I shake my head. “My mind’s racing, and I can’t stop thinking about Sam.”

“Come here.” Shane draws me into his arms and kisses my forehead. “He’s going to be fine. You just have to give him time.”

My arms go around his waist, and I revel in the heat of his body. I press my nose to his chest and inhale the tantalizing scent of his skin. My entire body flushes with desire. Pressing my lips to his sternum, I slip my hands beneath the waistband of his sweats and grip his firm buttocks. He groans.

His hand slips beneath my nightgown, and his fingers glide easily between my folds. I know I’m wet – I can feel it.

“Are you sure?” he says in a low voice.

I give him a shaky laugh. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He leans down and kisses me. “I’m just – I wasn’t sure. You’ve had a traumatic couple of days, and you were hurt, and now you’re pregnant.”

“Apparently, I’ve been pregnant for over two months now, and that never stopped us before.”

“I know, but that was when we were blissfully ignorant. Now, I know there’s a little person developing in there, and I don’t want to disturb her.”

“Or him. You heard Dr. Shaw. She said sex is fine. She said not to worry.”

“Right. Just no hanging from the chandeliers. I think I can abide by that.” He leads me to the sofa in his office and drops down into a sitting position. After pulling me to stand in front of him, between his spread knees, he pushes up my nightgown. “Here, hold this.”

I gather my nightgown just below my breasts, exposing my bare belly and my sex to his heated gaze. He splays his broad hands over my lower abdomen, placing his thumbs at my belly button and his fingertips grazing my hips bones. His touch is reverent. He leans forward and kisses my belly, just below my belly button.

When he looks up at me, I see the glitter of unshed tears in his eyes. “This doesn’t happen every day, you know,” he says, almost defensively.

I run the fingers of my good hand through his hair, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved him more than I do right at this moment. “What doesn’t happen every day?” I know what he means, of course, but I want to hear him say it.

“A man finds out he’s about to become a father for the first time. Cut me some slack here. It’s a bit momentous.”

I lean forward to kiss him. “You’re going to be a great dad, you know that?”

“If I am, it’s because I had a great role model. My dad’s pretty awesome, and I can’t wait for you to meet him. Now, let’s go have some very careful pregnancy sex.”