She frowned at him. “Jaimie and Rhianna?”
“My sisters—of sorts. I told you about Jaimie. She’s married to Mack. Eloped.” He scowled, furious all over again that Mack and Jaimie had run off behind his back. “Rhianna’s off somewhere hush-hush, and none of us has any idea at the moment where, which will earn her a few harsh lectures when she returns home.”
A slow smile crept into her eyes. “Kane, you really are silly sometimes. You’re the kindest, most gentle man I’ve ever met. You’re not at all like you think you are.”
He knew his horror showed on his face. “Rose, you can’t think that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth. I kill people, and it doesn’t keep me up at night. If another man tried to touch you in front of me, I sure as hell wouldn’t stand there smiling at him.”
Rose studied his face as he once again looked down at their son. His expression had gone from shock and horror to something very close to tenderness and love. “I wouldn’t want you to smile if another man was touching me, Kane. What are we going to call him? I don’t exactly have family names I want to give him.”
“Any ideas?”
“I thought when he was born I’d think of something, but my mind is a blank. I did put a baby name book in the pantry along with all the what-to-expect books.” She turned her head more closely into the pillows. She’d never been so exhausted in her life. She wanted to stay awake and watch him with the baby, but she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. “I’m tired, Kane.”
“I know, sweetheart. Let me put the baby down and check to make certain you’re not bleeding too much, and then I’ll let you go to sleep.”
She loved the sound of his voice, especially when he called her sweetheart. She could almost believe they were a normal couple thrilled to have their first child together, instead of two strangers brought together by a madman. “I’m sorry you have to do all this.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
He sounded so sincere. That was one of the things she loved most about Kane—his honesty. He meant the things he said to people, even when they weren’t nice things. He often got the most endearing expression on his face when he looked at her, as if she confused him and he didn’t quite know what to make of her.
“You really are an exceptional man, Kane.” She couldn’t stop the words from slipping out. He was exceptional.
He bent and brushed a kiss down her face to the side of her mouth. “You clearly don’t know very many men, Rose.” He kissed her again, this time on her temple. “Which is perfectly okay with me. You did a great job, honey. Our son is beautiful. Thank God he looks like you.”
Her lashes fluttered while she tried to calm her wildly beating heart. She couldn’t let herself fall for him. She’d committed to being with him, but she didn’t want her heart involved. Hearts could break, and she was strong on her own. She had to be to survive. She knew nothing at all about relationships or family. She might be able to figure out parenting, but mostly she thought in terms of protecting her child, rather than raising him. Real feelings for Kane would be a complication. She was already infatuated with him. She told herself it was because he was the first good man she’d ever met, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was a lot more complicated than that—and maybe already too late.
“I think he looks like you,” she said. “My hair, but the rest is all you.”
“I look like a little old man?”
Her heart fluttered again at his gentle teasing. His fingers brushed at the strands of hair falling around her face, and she absorbed his touch as if starved for it—and maybe she was. She had never been cuddled or held in her life. Kane had changed all that when he’d made love to her. He hadn’t forced sex. He’d been so gentle, every touch bringing pleasure—more than physical pleasure. The contact had touched more than her body, and now she craved those small touches. She could tell he was hesitant about too much contact with her, but she wished he’d just lie down beside her and hold her in his arms.
“He doesn’t look like an old man.”
Kane laughed softly at Rose’s admonishment as he nuzzled the baby’s head. A little reluctantly, he put him in the little cubicle he’d made to keep him warm. Rose hadn’t once brought up the fact that Whitney had experimented on both of the boy’s parents, and now he carried their DNA. Whitney had altered their DNA, and there was no telling what kinds of gifts or curses the child carried. Sometimes the psychic gifts were so strong that the person needed another person—an anchor—to be able to filter out the distressing disturbances around them.
He touched the child with gentle fingers, feeling almost overwhelmed with love. How could such a little stranger steal his heart in a matter of moments? Did all parents feel this way about their child? Was it because he’d helped to bring the boy into the world right in the midst of danger? He could barely believe that he and Rose had actually created this little human being together.
He slowly undid the blanket to look down at his son’s tiny form. He was born early, yet he was fully formed and already showing signs of body strength in his physical form. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his son was one of the supersoldiers Whitney was trying to create. When the child opened his sleepy eyes and looked at him, there was intelligence there. Granted, Kane had no experience with children, let alone new babies, but his gut rarely lied to him, and he had a strong feeling about the boy.
He sighed as he wrapped the boy tightly. “We won’t let him get his hands on you, son,” he promised softly. He very gently laid his hand on the boy’s head. “Your mother and I wanted you. Whatever else happens, know you were wanted by both of us.”
He felt Rose’s gaze fixed on him and turned to look into her dark eyes. Everything inside him stilled. She smiled at him, and his stomach did a slow somersault. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I know.”
It was her tone of voice—soft and dreamy, almost a caress—that got to him. She looked at him as if he were her entire world. He wanted to be, but he knew she just didn’t have any experience. A man like him, without a clue of home and family, a man born to fight wars, had no right being with a woman like Rose. He wanted to be the man in her mind, that fantasy, but he wasn’t. If she committed to him, if she married him, it was forever. He wouldn’t be walking away, and neither would she. She’d had enough of being imprisoned. Was life with him going to be anything else but a prison?