She wouldn’t be attending any demesne meetings between the leaders, so she dismissed that as irrelevant. Seven days, with possibly three functions a day, meant she needed to think about taking as many as twenty-one outfits, and seven of those outfits needed to be evening wear. She might be able to get away with wearing the same outfit throughout the day, but she couldn’t count on it.
One of those evening functions was a gathering she and Dragos were officially hosting at the Wyr residence in D.C., but other than designing and approving the menu with the Wyr event staff last week, thus far she hadn’t had anything else to do except get ready for the trip.
Rubbing her eyes, she walked back into her closet, grabbed another suitcase and hauled it into the living room.
Other than his inky black eyebrows lowering in a frown, Dragos hadn’t moved. He said, “Stop that.”
“I can’t, not if we’re going to leave at eight in the morning.” She dropped the second suitcase beside the first.
“It doesn’t matter if we get a later start. Our first obligation isn’t until tomorrow evening.”
“The White House thing,” she said. Sometimes her life boggled her mind. Once, never in a million years had she expected to attend anything at the White House as an invited guest.
“Yes, the White House thing. Come here.” Quick as a cat, he snagged her arm and pulled her toward him.
She went over to him willingly enough, but somehow, as she got closer, her head grew heavier, until she was looking down at his feet.
Long, dark fingers curled underneath her chin and lifted her face gently.
At the same time, she lifted her gaze to meet his.
So many things had happened to them. Their relationship wasn’t even two years old. Her pregnancy with Liam had happened as a result of their mating. Dragos didn’t choose to become a father. He had adapted to it.
She told him, “Forget about my outburst of emotion at the school. I want you to know, whatever you say, it will be okay.”
“Yes.”
His response was so breathtakingly simple, at first it didn’t register. When it did, her heart started to pound. She couldn’t believe her ears.
“That’s it—just yes?” she demanded, half laughing. “That’s all you’ve got to say about it? I think I feel cheated out of a long, angsty conversation.”
He raised one sleek eyebrow. “I didn’t say that was all I had to say about it. I just thought I would cut to the chase.” He studied her while he rubbed his thumb along the edge of her jaw. “You know as well as I do that the odds are against us. You also know that even if we do get pregnant, we would likely face many of the same challenges as we did the first time, and another baby isn’t going to take Liam’s place.”
She shook her head. “Of course not. Liam is perfect just the way he is. Yes, it shook me at first to discover how fast he would mature, but I’ve dealt with that. Truly, that’s okay.”
“I believe you.” He slid his hand away from her chin, his fingers caressing her neck. “And I believe that you want another baby for that baby’s sake. Parenthood took us by surprise, and that’s okay too. This time, though, I would like to make the choice.”
“Exactly,” she whispered. His touch began to drug her senses, soothing and arousing her at once, and she began to feel heavy for other reasons. Standing upright took more effort. Swaying forward, she spread her hands across the broad expanse of his chest.
He put his arms around her. “I think what we should talk about is how we will deal with the disappointment if it doesn’t happen. Because chances are, it won’t.”
“You never know,” she told him. She peeked up at his face. “There’s no real rhyme or reason to how difficult it is for the Elder Races to conceive and carry children to term. Some families end up having more than one child. Maybe your sperm is so mighty, you shoot magic bullets.”
His intent expression splintered, and he burst out laughing. Almost as quickly, he sobered again and told her with a completely straight face, “Of course I do.”