“Willow reminded us that you don’t have family here,” Xanthe said.

Fliss had met her at different times when they’d made announcements around the baby and their engagement. She didn’t mention that she didn’t actually have family anywhere.

“Being a new parent is a special club,” Xanthe continued. “We’re looking forward to welcoming you.”

Fliss was incredibly touched, especially when she was given a contact list with each person’s professed specialty. “Call me if you have questions about...” They listed everything from colic to preschools to hiring a nanny.

Most of the gifts were unwrapped and wearing only a bow. She admired all of them, thrilled to have so many decisions made for her. She was dishing out slices of cake when Saint came into the boardroom.

“Oh, hello.” Her heart leapt when he touched her shoulder and dropped a casual kiss onto her cheek, but her smile faltered as his flinty gaze scanned the strollers and toys and hampers. “Thank you for arranging this,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

“I didn’t. Willow did.” He nodded at his assistant. “I’ve said many times that Willow is the most valuable member of my staff. This is yet another example why.”

Since everyone was looking at them, Fliss joked, “That’s why I’ve asked them to be my birth coach. I already know Willow will do most of the work, and God knows Saint will be tied up with Grayscale business.”

That got a laugh from everyone except Saint. His expression stiffened. He set down his untouched cake, said, “Willow,” and walked out.

“Excuse me.” Willow gave the room a calm smile and followed.

Fliss’s heart lurched. “Saint!”

Embarrassed that she’d said something to upset him in front of everyone, she clumsily clambered to her feet and hurried after them, catching up to him and Willow at the elevator.

“Saint—”

“Go enjoy your party. I have something to do.” He looked resolute, not angry.

“But...” She searched his expression.

The elevator opened, and she stepped inside with him.

“I’ll take the stairs,” Willow said, turning away from joining them.

“That was a joke,” Fliss said as the doors closed. “I want you to be with me at the birth.” He’d hired a private coach to come to the penthouse rather than attending classes, but he never missed a session.

“I know. I’m not angry.” Seconds later, the doors opened and he held it for her, allowing her to step ahead of him. “Not at you.”

“Who, then?”

He led her down the hall and into the glass-walled office that had been his father’s. Willow must have sprinted ahead of them because they were dancing their fingers across their tablet, bringing up contacts on the big screen at one end of the room. Some revealed distracted faces, others only showed names. Fliss recognized a few as board members she’d already met.

“Two are unable to attend. Three have not responded. The rest are joining now,” Willow said, continuing to assemble the meeting.

“The board,” Saint explained with a nod.

“Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt—” She looked to the door, but Saint took her hand and kept her beside him so they both showed in their own square on the screen.

“You’re live,” Willow said.

“Good. Thank you everyone for jumping onto this call so quickly,” Saint said.

“You said it was an emergency,” a gruff male voice said. “Is Ted—”

“I said it was urgent.” Saint looked to Willow, who nodded. “Dad’s been moved to long-term care and continues to improve each day. No, this is a decision that needed to be conveyed immediately so the board can respond in a timely manner. You’ve all met Felicity?”

“Hello.” Fliss gave a weak smile and wave.

“She is expecting and I plan to be with her at the birth. There. Not here. I am not my father, and I will not become him. I want to be Felicity’s husband and the father my child deserves. I’ll continue leading the charge on my project, but I am resigning as president.”

“Wait! What?” the chorus of voices blustered.

“Saint.” She clasped his hand in both of hers, shocked and so moved she could hardly breathe. She stared up at him, blinking eyes that welled with emotive tears. “You don’t have to do that for me,” she whispered.

“I’m doing it for us. All of us.” He nodded at her belly. “I’ll continue to head the development of my security project,” he said to the board, “but my family is my priority, and you need to know that.”

“Oh,” Fliss squeaked, ducking her head against his arm because she couldn’t believe he was doing this. And she was going to full on start crying in a second, which would be totally embarrassing.

“We’ll speak more in the next few days,” he told the board. “But I wanted to make you aware so you can start planning for my taking a step back. End the call and leave us, please, Willow.”

The on-screen grumbles went silent, and the glass walls tinted to opaque as Willow slipped out, possibly biting back a smug smile, but Fliss only had eyes for Saint.

“Are you sure?” she asked him.

“About not becoming my father? So sure,” he said firmly and cupped her cheek. “Do not ask if I’m sure whether I love you. I’ve been feeling so frustrated, wanting you to know it. When you said that about Willow—”

“It was a joke.”

“It made me realize that I can say the words, but if I’m not here to show you, then you’ll never believe it. Not the way I want you to know it.”

“I’ll never doubt it again,” she swore, because how could she? And she really was starting to cry. “It’s a really big feeling to accept.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot of love I’m carrying for you. Now I’ve gone and put it on you when you’re in such a delicate condition...” He drew her into his arms, hands sliding along the sides of her belly in a sweetly familiar way. His mouth pressed hers.

She went up on tiptoes, letting her arms cling around his neck as they found the right angle for their kiss. The perfect connection. He’s the one. It wasn’t a whisper of intuition anymore. It was a statement of fact.

The baby kicked.

Saint drew back, dropping a startled look to her belly. He gave her a rueful smile that was so carefree it made her pulse leap all over again.

“It will be a busy few weeks while I clear the decks,” he warned. “Then I’m all yours. Can you put up with my heavy schedule a little longer?”

She nodded, more confident in the future than she’d ever been.

True to his word, when she started having pains six weeks later, he was in bed beside her.

“Leg cramp?” he murmured when she abruptly rose.

“I think I’m having contractions.”