“The chef is in the house,” Tellar announces and Liam and I claim seats at the table and he moves around the kitchen like he owns it, and despite his cheery tone, his shoulder holster and gun dent my mood.

Liam leans in and kisses me. “I need to make a couple of business calls.” He eyes Tellar. “I expect the chef to be in when I get back.”

Tellar mock salutes him. “At your command, sir. Yes, sir.”

Laughter bubbles from my lips and I murmur a greeting to Derek. For a moment, I have the oddest sense of being in a happy bubble that could burst at any moment, and I don’t want it to. Tellar sets a cup in front of me and fills it. “Decaf per the boss’s orders. And how about an omelet? Or eggs sunny-side up? Name your egg.”

“Scrambled eggs well-done, please.” I lift the cup. “And thank you.”

Derek and I chat for a few minutes about his sister who’s a high-end real estate agent, and by the time I finish my eggs, Liam returns. Tellar whips him up an omelet and I listen as Derek and Liam talk about the Denver project Derek is still trying to salvage, the one Liam was supposed to design. Listening to them, I become aware of the bond between these two men that is far more brotherly than simple friendship. And I get why Derek is here. He, and Tellar too, despite being on payroll, are the closest thing to family Liam has. Except for me and the baby.

I reach under the table and press my hand to Liam’s leg. His hand covers mine and we exchange a warm stare. Not for the first time, I am moved by how alike Liam and I are. How alone we were in a world of billions of people until we found each other. I know why he battles being over-protective. I can’t lose him or this child.

“Need anything else?” Tellar asks me.

I frown at him. “What’s happening? Why are you acting like a doting Papa Bear?”

He shrugs. “You’re pregnant and my mom and four sisters taught me right.”

“Four sisters?”

“That’s right. Four. Three of whom have had babies. So, I ask again. Need anything else?”

I look at his gun and then back at him, a tiny prick in my bubble. He’s not just family. He’s a trained protector and killer. “Yes,” I reply. “I need you to not need that. I didn’t notice it the first night we met.”

“I use an ankle holster in public, but this is easier to access.”

“Right. And you need it to be easy to access.”

“This is where I tell her the truth,” Tellar says to Liam. “Yes. I do.”

“Yes, baby, he does,” Liam agrees, drawing my attention. “And I’d feel better if you had one and knew how to shoot it.”

“I don’t like guns, but I can shoot and if I wasn’t afraid the registration would somehow make me more trackable, I’d have bought one long ago.”

Liam leans back in his chair, his dark hair intensifying the aqua of his piercing eyes. “Not the answer I expected.”

“Yeah well, it wasn’t by choice, though I’m not beyond seeing the value of knowing how to protect myself. Learning to shoot was the condition for me traveling with my father. He was concerned about females in a foreign country that isn’t female-friendly.” Tellar sits down with a plate piled high with eggs, potatoes and a bagel and my eyes go wide. “And apparently lugging around a big weapon takes a lot of energy.”

Tellar’s eyes light up. “Don’t you know it, honey.”

Liam ignores the exchange, sitting up, elbows on the table. “Was your father’s concern a general one, or based on a specific threat?”

“We had various issues over my mother and me not covering our faces and bodies.”

Liam presses, “Anyone in particular you remember that we should look into?”

“No. No one specific. I can tell you think this is a potential lead, but really it’s not that uncommon over there. It happens.”

“An interesting thing about Sheridan I think would be well-timed right about now,” Derek interjects. “He’s not only richer than Liam, which is pretty damn rich, he’s richer because he’s into oil. He’s got a connection to Jasmine Heights and now we’ve linked him to Egypt.”

I twist in my seat to face him. “We weren’t involved in oil,” I say but even as I do I hear my mother shouting, and I hug myself against the shiver racing down my spine.

Monday morning comes and Liam leaves me with Tellar to take care of business at the bank, but he’s back in time for Dr. Murphy’s visit. “Why don’t we just use the bed?” she suggests, very proper in a navy suit dress while I’ve opted for the distressed jeans and red sweater I wanted to wear before they no longer fit.

I claim the edge of the mattress and she joins me and begins checking my vitals. Liam, as promised, refuses to be sent from the room.

“How is she?” Liam asks, towering over us, and looking incredibly, intimately male in a dark suit and pressed white shirt, his blue eyes glinting bluer with the sun and water behind him.

“Her vitals are good and so was her blood work. I’m setting the due date as June 26th.”

My eyes connect with Liam’s and I expect excitement, but I find intensity, worry. He doesn't even comment on the date. “She hit her head at one point when she fell and needed stitches.”

“My recommendations haven't changed. Acupuncture and therapy. I can do an acupuncture session today before I leave.” She glances at me. “Are you eating?”

I nod. “Yes. Now that I’m rested, I seem less nauseous.”

“Can she travel?”

Dr. Murphy gives Liam a keen inspection. “Does she need to travel?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“International. I’m not at liberty to tell you more.”

“I need more to prepare her vaccinations. She has to be protected.”

“Go wide,” Liam says. “We might be one place and move to another.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

I am on my feet in an instant, closing the short distance between him and me. “Tomorrow?”

His hands come down on my shoulders, warm and solid. “Yes. I told you to trust your instincts and now I’m asking you to trust mine.”

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Dr. Murphy says. “I need to call my office anyway.”

Liam glances over my shoulder. “Any of the rooms on this floor are at your disposal.”

She clears her throat. “If you want to give birth here, you need to be back by May 1.”

I hear the door shut, confirming her exit, and ask, “Where?”

“Taiwan. I have contacts there that can protect us and I’ve already lined up medical care and a place for us to stay.”

Taiwan. It’s a long way from Texas. “What about paperwork?”

“I’ve arranged everything. We’ll have what we need by morning. We need to do this.”

This is the ultimate test, the confirmation I trust him completely, and I reach deep, doing what I’ve always done to survive, and what Liam claims I’ve done well. I listen to my instincts and they say I belong with this man.

I inhale and nod. “Yes. Okay.”

The trust I’ve given Liam seems to deepen our bond further and every nervous moment I have, he seems to anticipate with a touch, a look. A moment no one else could have with me. Moments I had never thought I’d share with anyone, ever.

Bedtime comes and I climb into bed. Liam brings my purse and sets it next to me. I frown and he lays a small leather case on the bed. My pulse leaps even before he unsnaps it and shows me what’s inside. “It’s a Smith & Wesson .38. Compact and easy to fit in your purse.” He presses it into my hand. “Comfortable?”

I close my eyes, swallowing the knot in my throat. “As comfortable as needing this is going to get.” I check it, confirm it’s loaded, and close it back in the case. “Thank you.” I stick it in the black Chanel purse and it fits perfectly.

Liam sets my bag on the nightstand, and climbs into bed with me. “I want to feel your skin,” he murmurs, stripping away my gown and his boxers, and wrapping me in his strong arms, my back to his front. But this moment isn’t about sex and passion, of which we have plenty for one another. It’s about hope, and fear, and the kind of loss neither of us want to feel again.