"Four," he repeated, low and rough. The word sounded different in his mouth; it sounded like a vow.
Voss appeared at her other side, and she felt his fingers thread into her hair, tilting her face toward him. His expression was controlled, barely, but the muscle jumping in his jaw betrayed him completely. "Whose?"
Felicity's tail curled against the sheets.
She watched his composure fracture another millimetre and felt a wicked little thrill zip through her chest. "No idea," she said, sweet as honey. "Could be anyone's."
Damien made a sound. His dark gaze hadn't moved from her belly.
Ivan cleared his throat. The big man looked, she blinked, was that moisture gathering along his lower lashes? His scarred face worked through three expressions in rapid succession before settling on something fierce and protective. He stepped closer, and the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat at the edge, one enormous palm settling over her bent knee.
