Broken Dove
Page 159

“He didn’t make a show of giving me his story, Lo,” I explained. “I don’t want to make him uncomfortable when I return it but I do want to tell him how much I liked it. So I’m writing him a note.”
He stopped by the desk and his face got soft as his lips murmured, “Ah.”
It was at his “ah,” which only Apollo could make sexy, belatedly, my eyes traveled over his lusciousness wearing his deep green sweater and brown beeches, and I lost focus on my task.
I lifted my gaze to his face and said, “We don’t have trains, phones or scoop-shaped Fritos here, but I’m seeing a variety of pluses. Men on my…I mean, in the other world don’t look hot when they go hunting.”
Apollo ignored my remark about him looking hot and asked, “Scoop-shaped Fritos?”
“Corn chips that are awesome normally but these ones are especially designed for dipping which increases their awesomeness exponentially mostly because I haven’t yet met a dip I did not like,” I replied.
His brows narrowed telling me that clearly didn’t cut it as an explanation.
“Food,” I said simply. “Food that I enjoy.”
Upon my answer, he bent to me and offered quietly. “I’ll give Valentine a diamond to bring some back for you.”
Only Apollo would offer a diamond for Fritos.
Seriously.
My guy was the bomb.
“I’m not sure that’s an equal trade,” I shared.
“Anything my dove wants is worth whatever it takes to give it to her,” he returned.
Seriously.
My guy was the bomb.
In that moment, sitting in my robe and nightgown, looking up at his beauty, carrying his child, knowing I’d soon have his name (well, a name I already had but the good one this time), I decided he needed to know that so I told him, “You’re the bomb.”
His eyes lit with humor.
“I take it that’s good,” he remarked.
“You take it right,” I replied.
He smiled.
I tipped my head back hoping he’d understand the invitation.
He did. Leaning further, he gave me a short, sweet, but thankfully wet kiss, the wet part being a touch of the tips of our tongues.
Delicious.
He pulled away an inch but kept hold of my eyes. “Anything you say to Christophe will be fine. Don’t fret over it. Just be you.”
Just be me.
Apollo thought that was enough.
And he taught me it was.
More than enough.
A beautiful lesson to learn.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He lifted a hand to slide his fingers in the side of my hair and curled them around the back. Once positioned, he pulled my head down so he could touch his lips to the top of my hair.
He allowed me to tip my head back again and ordered, “Wish your betrothed luck in the hunt.”
On a grin, not thinking of the unsuspecting deer and bunnies, I did as bid. “Good luck in the hunt.”
He grinned back then his face got serious. “Do not leave this house, my dove.”
Like I’d make that mistake again.
“I won’t,” I promised.
“Not much longer and all you’ll need to worry about is preparations for our marriage celebration and decorating the nursery.”
Happiness swept through me. So much of it, even though I was sitting, I had to lift my hand and curl it around his forearm to hold myself steady.
But all that had gone before understandably meant that happiness clouded.
This time, I didn’t hold it in.
This time, I shared it immediately.
“Do you think I’ll be able—?”
He cut me off with a firm, “Yes.”
“This is…she is…” I swallowed. “She’s ours, Apollo, we made her. And if something—”
He twisted his hand gently in my hair and took back half the inch that he went away.
“You and I, Madeleine, we have had more than our share of sadness and tragedy. Think on this, my poppy. It is an impossibility that we would find each other. But we did. And when we did, the odds were against us with who came before…for you and for me. We beat those odds. And to settle in your womb, this child beat pennyrium. Do you not think all this says that it is time we set the sadness and tragedy where it belongs and look ahead to a future that could do nothing but beam bright?”
Well, if he put it that way.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Yes,” he repeated firmly. “You have proved time and again you can do anything. Keep yourself safe from grave danger. Find your way in a world all new to you. Win the affection of a boy burdened by grief. Witnessing you do all that, I believe in my heart, my poppy, that you can also do this.”
Okay, I believed too, since he put it that way.
“All right, honey,” I replied.
“All right,” he stated, took that last half an inch and touched his lips to mine. When he again moved back, he didn’t go far. And I felt it in my belly in a warm way I’d never felt it before (and before I’d felt it in a way warm way), when he whispered, “I love you, my Madeleine.”
I hoped my way was just as warm when I replied, “I love you too, baby.” I grinned at him. “Now go show those cute bunnies and helpless deer who’s boss.”
His eyes crinkled and he again pulled me forward, this time to touch his mouth to my forehead before he let me go, straightened and started to move away.
“I’ll see you this afternoon,” he called.
“See you this afternoon,” I called to his back.
He opened the door and stopped, turned to me and gave me a deep bow.
When he straightened, he winked.
I smiled.
The door closed.
I took in a deep breath and put my hand to my belly.
“A future that beams bright,” I said to no one but did it still smiling.
Then it hit me, I turned to the paper and added ballpoint pens to the shopping list Apollo was going to pay for in diamonds because it took me ten back and forths to the inkpot to write:
Chris,
This was fabulous. Thank you for allowing me to read it. I couldn’t put it down and can’t wait to see the ending.
In more ways than one.
xx Maddie
* * * * *
I was strolling through the halls, giving myself a tour of all the fabulousness that was the Winter Palace, and being interrupted in this endeavor repeatedly seeing as there were a ton of people in Fyngaard for the Bitter Gales and it seemed the majority of them were staying at the palace.
I was also experiencing something strange. This was that, apparently, a number of them had seen me at the Drakkar gale in Brunskar and further, word had spread about me pretty widely so not a lot of people were freaked at seeing me, the image of the departed Ilsa Ulfr, strolling the halls of their princess’s regal residence.