“Come with me, bebé!”
And they exploded together, Savannah screaming and he grunting to completion.
After cleaning up, he pulled Savannah into the spoon of his body and kissed her neck and collar. “That was incredible. I’m going to enjoy revisiting this position again. Soon.”
“I don’t know what came over me. I like being on top—but still want you to be my Top in this relationship.”
He chuckled. “No worries there, savita.” He grew serious, leaning his forehead against the back of her head. “I’ll always be your Dom.” He took a deep breath. “And as I vowed last night and a hundred other times, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you, Savannah.”
Chapter Fourteen
Savannah awoke Thanksgiving morning to the scent of roasting turkey and sage and momentarily forgot where she was. Damián lay behind her, his hand protectively holding her belly while he slept. A quick glance at the empty air mattress told her Mari was already up and gone.
Karla had convinced them to stay at their place Thanksgiving Eve, but part of the deal was that Savannah would be helping in the kitchen. Sitting up as quickly as she could these days, she ran her fingers through her hair to unflatten it. Damián stirred.
“Come back here, savita.”
“I can’t.” Could she still say no to Sir? Well, she could try. After all, they weren’t in a scene and had never been high protocol. “I promised Karla I’d make the mashed potatoes. Smells like she has the turkey well on its way to being done.”
He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We aren’t eating until two or three. Plenty of time.” He propped his head onto the palm of his hand, the dragon tattoo on his pec and upper arm begging to be stroked. Or kissed.
So tempting.
No. Her hand went to the band around her neck, but he hadn’t said anything earlier about her obeying everyday commands. “I’m tempted to join you, truly I am, but I need to peel about fifteen pounds of spuds to have enough for the crowd she’s expecting. And I promised Karla to help with anything else she needs, but I’ve spent half the morning in bed.”
He trailed a fingertip down her arm, making her flesh rise in his wake. “You needed your sleep.”
Don’t distract me, Sir. “What I need is to see what Mari’s up to, although I’m sure she’s keeping an eagle eye on those babies.” Her daughter would be such a help to her when their new baby came.
But her need to please Damián warred with her prior commitment to Karla. Perhaps if she got his permission. “Is it okay if I go downstairs now…Sir?”
He grinned. Her use of Sir outside of a scene must have pleased him greatly. She’d have to remember to use it more often.
“I suppose the reward will be worth it. We’ll have time to ourselves tonight when we go home. Go.”
She leaned down to give him a kiss, but before he could pull her into his embrace, she stood and crossed the room to her overnight bag. After slipping a cranberry-colored, form-fitting cotton sweater over her head—Damián insisted she not hide the baby under tents, as he called traditional maternity clothes—and pulling on a pair of stretchy maternity jeans, she waved goodbye just as he sat up on the edge of the mattress to make an effort at getting out of bed, too.
Using his Dom voice, he said, “Savannah.”
She stopped in her tracks with her hand on the doorknob and turned. “Yes, Sir?”
“Don’t be on your feet too long. I’ll be down to check on you after my shower.”
She smiled and relaxed. “I promise I won’t.” He always made sure she took good care of herself and the baby.
In the kitchen, she found Adam seated at the table holding his little girls—one on each thigh—while Mari chased after Pax, crawling and giggling as he made a beeline toward the dining room with her daughter in hot pursuit. Their laughter was infectious.
“My, so much energy this morning!” Savannah said, laughing. “Where can I bottle some of that? I feel like such a slacker.”
Karla set the baster on the spoon rest as she turned to greet Savannah. Her hair had been pulled into a clip at the back of her head, accenting her rosy cheeks, no doubt red from standing in front of the recently opened oven door. “Nonsense. But if you figure out where to get some of their energy, sell me a few quarts, please. I’m a little low, too.”
“Kitten, don’t overdo,” Adam said, using his Dom voice, “or I’ll make sure you stay put for a while with some strategically placed rope.” Apparently, both Adam and Damián were in Dom mode today. Well, situation normal.
Karla gave him a smoldering look, and Savannah felt the passion burning between them. “I hope you’ll do that anyway, Sir, after the babies go to bed.”
Savannah cleared her throat as if to remind them they weren’t alone. The uncovered roasting pan sat on top of the stove, the turkey not yet brown. The sight and smell took her back to Thanksgiving as a child when Maman prepared a feast—a mixture of American and French favorites—usually for the two of them. Sometimes Gentry joined them, but her sharpest memories were of Maman laughing as they wrapped their pinkies around the wishbone and pulled. Somehow, Savannah managed to come away with the longest part the two times she could recall.
Savannah wished Maman was still here. Blinking away the tears, she said, “That smells divine, Karla. What time did you put it in?”
“Angelina said between six and seven would be plenty of time to allow it to rest before carving. I managed to make the seven o’clock mark—with Adam’s help. Should have chopped the onions and celery last night. But what do I know?” she asked with an unapologetic shrug.
“It will be fine, hon,” Adam chimed in, while making a face at Rori who grabbed onto his chin and pried open his mouth.
Karla laughed. “You won’t even eat it, Adam, so your vote doesn’t count.”
“Like hell I won’t. You made it this year, so I’ll be having some, especially given how you’ve been stressing out about it for the past week.”
Karla ignored his comment, becoming serious as she surveyed the kitchen then picked up the baster as if just remembering what she was doing before Savannah had come in. Her having so much to do made Savannah feel even guiltier about sleeping in.
“It’s just so important that everything be perfect on the first Thanksgiving meal I’ve ever pulled together,” she said, as she squirted turkey drippings over the bird’s skin. “And with Mom and Daddy arriving any minute from Chicago, I want to show them I can do this.”
Savannah hadn’t noticed Karla’s parents being anything but loving and supportive and wondered why she would think otherwise. “Mom’s bringing nine or ten pies in their SUV, thank goodness, which is why they chose to drive down instead of fly. I don’t think I could have tackled pies, too.” Karla set the baster on the spoon rest again and replaced the lid on the roasting pan.
That seemed to be Adam’s signal to set the girls on the floor. He watched them crawl off, gurgling as they made a beeline to their brother and Mari, who had returned from their foray into the dining room. Adam stood. “Looks like you’re ready for me to put that bird back in the oven, Kitten.”
“It’s all yours. I can’t believe how heavy the roasting pan is with a twenty-three pound bird inside. Good thing I have a big, strapping Marine on duty.” Karla gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning toward Savannah. “I appreciate having your help, too, Savannah. It takes a village.”
Savannah crossed the room to give Karla a hug. “Don’t worry about a thing. You have everything under control. But I truly am sorry I slept so long.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re seven months pregnant. You needed it. Besides, Marisol’s been a great distraction for the kids, so you helped just by staying over last night. I’m just glad you were able to sleep in with all the noise around here.”
“I assure you, we didn’t hear a thing.” Putting some distance between them, she added, “I’ll just wash my hands and start peeling potatoes.”
“Now that
’s something I have some expertise doing, too,” Adam said.
With the turkey roasting again, Karla began cutting up broccoli for her fabulous casserole. After washing and rinsing the potatoes, Savannah split the pile between her and Adam, and the two of them worked in companionable silence seated at the table.
Karla bubbled with excitement, sharing stories about two special Thanksgivings she’d spent with Adam—one as a teenager and again last year. From what Savannah could fathom, Thanksgiving held special meaning for them. And this year, their table would be filled with nineteen family members, including the three newest additions who couldn’t eat solid foods yet. Their loss.
The remaining guests should be arriving soon. In addition to Karla’s parents and Rosa’s family, the Wilsons and Dentons were driving in together from Fairchance and bringing Adam’s mother and brother, Patrick, with them. Adam’s former mother-in-law, Marge, had opted to go on a cruise with her sister this month to help the woman deal with her grief over the loss of her son this past July. Marge would be missed as she fit right in with everyone.
Cassie was baking her mouth-watering amaranth bread, and Ryder made a traditional black bean salad from the pueblo he’d lived on. The ethnic diversity of their extended family had expanded everyone’s cultural horizons tremendously. Rosa and Mrs. Gallagher had rounded out the meal with candied yams and baked apples, respectively. There would be so much food—and love—in this house today, and Savannah was so happy she and Mari would be a part of it.
Marc and Angelina would be hosting her mother and brothers for a private dinner at her restaurant in Breck, but Savannah, Damián, and Mari would see Marc at least on Saturday at his parents’ resort in Aspen where Rosa’s kids and Mari were going to take more ski lessons. Damián sounded as though he might attempt to learn as well, which surprised Savannah. He’d asked her to come along but not to say anything to Mari yet. He so hated to appear incapable of doing something in his daughter’s eyes, but Savannah had all the confidence in the world in his ability to master anything he set out to do.
The only other person missing today would be Mistress Grant, who had turned down Adam’s invitation saying she’d be out of town on assignment. The secretive woman didn’t allow anyone to get too close to knowing her or what made her tick. But she’d always tried to make time for Mari, taking a special interest in teaching the little girl how to protect herself even against much larger foes. That put Savannah’s mind at ease a little bit. If anything ever had happened to Mari—or her baby or Damián—Savannah didn’t know what she’d do.
Shaking off those negative thoughts, she cut her last potato into the stock pot. “Want me to split the rest of yours?” she asked Adam.
“Nah. Maybe see what else Kitten needs.”
Standing, she crossed to the island. “Okay, what’s next?”
Karla surveyed the area and picked up a brick of Velveeta. “Could you cut this into one-inch cubes for the casseroles?”
“I think I can handle that.” She’d barely sat down again at the table beside Adam when she looked up as Damián walked into the room, his wet hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her heart still skipped a beat every time she saw his handsome face. He approached her and bent to place a kiss on Savannah’s cheek. “Did you eat breakfast, savita?”
“I’ll get something in a minute, but I don’t want to spoil my dinner.”
Her husband’s low growl told her she wasn’t pleasing him at the moment. “That’s hours away,” he pointed out.
“It’s my fault,” Karla interjected. “I’m a slave driver. Both of you, help yourself to some pumpkin bread on the counter. Savannah, I can work on the cheese.”
“No, that’s okay. I can eat and work at the same time.” Savannah felt a strong need to continue doing something mindless to keep her thoughts away from the upcoming trial.
Damián microwaved two pieces of bread, slathered both with soft butter, and brought them over on a single plate, setting it beside her before scooting a chair closer to join her. He broke off a piece of one and held it up to her mouth. “Open.”
Rolling her eyes, she did as he instructed, knowing it would be futile to refuse. She kissed his fingertips before he removed them and smiled like the dutiful submissive she tried to be. After chewing and swallowing, she peeled the foil away from the cheese. “Mmm. Karla, this bread’s delicious.”
Mari came over to wrap her arm around Savannah’s back. “I helped make it last night, Maman.”
“Well, then, I’ll need the recipe so you and I can make more at home.”
“You’ve got it,” Karla said. “It’s super easy. I used a box mix.” She shrugged unapologetically and smiled.
Damián kissed Mari on the top of her head. “What has my princesa been up to this morning?”
“I played with the babies. I taught them how to crawl faster.”
“I’m sure Karla and Dad will love you for that.”
“We love our Marisol no matter what,” Adam said.
When the doorbell rang, Karla dried her hands on a dishtowel and patted her hair. “That must be Mom and Daddy. She texted about an hour ago with their arrival time. Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
When Savannah had first met Karla, she’d envied her for having the persona of a young, naive girl. Savannah had felt old since she was eight. But after having three babies, nearly dying afterward, and working on the first tracks of an album she planned to market as an indie vocalist next year, Karla had proven that she could handle anything life tossed at her. Such a strong woman.
Adam was the one who worried her more. While he put up a solid front, Savannah caught moments where a haunted expression crossed his face as he looked at Karla or the babies. The “what would I do without them?” look held a touch of “I don’t deserve them” that confused Savannah. No one had earned the right to happiness more than this man who always put everyone ahead of himself his entire life.
Survivor’s guilt? What had given him such feelings? So much of his past was a mystery to Savannah. She wondered if Damián knew his adopted dad’s story.
The sound of Rosa’s voice made Damián’s face light with joy. He loved his family and must be so pleased to have everyone together today.
Like Savannah, Rosa had survived horrible abuse, as had her daughter, Teresa. But day in and day out, Rosa relaxed more and brightened the days of all around her as she seamlessly managed the clinic.
A quick glance at the others in the kitchen doorway showed Teresa and her little brother, José.
But look who else had decided to join them!
Chapter Fifteen
Damián had been worried about Rosa spending her first Thanksgiving in Denver alone after she’d rejected repeated invitations, but she’d finally agreed to come yesterday. She usually preferred to stay invisible and in the background, telling him she sometimes felt she was a burden or in the way. That would be the day.
Damián wondered what changed her mind. Madre de Dios! Standing behind Rosa and her kids, he saw Doctor McKenzie. Had the good doctor had anything to do with the change of plans?
Damián stood and crossed the room to hug Rosa and kiss her cheek. “Good to see you, sis.”
“I hope we are not imposing.”
“You’re family,” Karla said, beaming at her. “How can you impose on family? And Doctor Mac, consider yourself family, too!”
Damián extended his hand to shake the doctor’s. “Doctor McKenzie.”
“Please call me Mac. I don’t intend to be dispensing medical advice today, unless there’s an emergency like a tryptophan coma or something.”
“Come in.” Damián gestured them into the kitchen. “I think you know everyone except maybe Adam Montague.”
Dad shook his hand. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for Savannah and Damián’s family. From what I’ve heard, Rosa loves working at your clinic.”
“Rosa’s one of the best managers I’ve ever hired. She runs the place so efficiently I can�
��t imagine how I got by without her. Can you, Savannah?”
“Absolutely not, even though I’ve only been there a few months longer than Rosa has.”
Damián owed the good doctor a huge debt of gratitude for all he’d done for his family—from hiring Savannah and Rosa to helping out the night Savannah arrived from SoCal last December, beaten and injured by Lyle, to when Doctor Mac made sure Marc had the medical supplies he’d need during the raid to rescue Savannah from Gentry.
The doctor smiled down at Rosa who gifted him with a shy smile. “You’re too kind, Robert.” When had he become Robert? And was Rosa blushing? Damián glanced from her to the tall man beside her and wondered if something was going on between them other than a professional relationship. He hoped so. Rosa needed someone like him—an honorable man, patient and gentle to the extreme. Doctor Mac would never abuse her or her kids.
“Uncle Damo,” Teresa said, placing a kiss on his cheek, “I have to talk with you when you have a minute.”
Worried at first by her serious tone, Damián searched her face, but sunshine seemed to pour from her eyes. Curiosity got the best of him. “I’m just in the way here. Let’s go talk now.” Before they went into the living room, he ruffled José’s hair. “What’s my nephew up to?”
“Just school and stuff.” He didn’t sound too happy about it, either.
“Well, why don’t you and Marisol go play a while before dinner?”
“Let’s play Mulan!” Marisol shouted.
“I wanna be Spiderman.” The two negotiated what they’d play as they left the room and walked toward the stairway to head upstairs to the playroom.
“No, Pax!” Karla excused herself to chase after her son down the hall.
“I’d better go corral the girls, too,” Adam said, “so Kitten can finish getting dinner ready.”
“How can we help?” Rosa asked.
Somebody’s Perfect Page 15
