Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,103

children. I want to turn out the lights at night and hold you in my arms. I just want you.”

“You broke me,” I tell him. “You broke me, and you did it without a second thought.” I put my hands on his wrists.

“And for that, I will spend the rest of my life regretting that,” he says.

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t know if I can.”

He nods his head at me. “Please,” he begs me. “Just give me a chance.” He puts his forehead against mine. “Let me show you.”

I close my eyes taking in his words. “When do you want to move into this house?” I ask him, my chest pounding.

“I bought it this morning, so now would be a good idea,” he tells me, and I smile.

“You bought this house, not knowing if I would say yes?” I ask, a bit shocked.

He shrugs. “I would have given it to you and the baby if you didn’t want me back.” My mouth opens in shock. “But I also bought this house knowing I wouldn’t give up until you were here,” he tells me.

“I’ve missed you,” I tell him quietly.

“Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he tells me, and he kisses my lips softly. The minute his lips touch mine, I feel a flutter in my stomach. He pulls me to his chest, and I finally hug him. When he wraps his arms around me, I feel safe.

“Can I see the rest of the house?” I ask him, and he smiles. Taking my hand in his, he shows me the house.

“All the furniture is optional,” he tells me. “We can keep it, or you can get stuff you like.”

“But do you like it?” I ask him, and he brings our hands to his mouth.

“I don’t care.” He looks around a guest bedroom. “As long as I have you and our baby under the same roof, that is all that I need.” I try to hide my smile, but I can’t. I see only half the house before I need to sit down, and he has to get me some crackers.

“The sickness should be easing up once you get past the first trimester,” he tells me and gets up to get me some water. “After that, it should be okay.” I look at him. “I read it in the books.”

“Books, plural? I only saw you reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” I ask him.

“What To Expect When You’re Expecting, On Becoming Baby Wise, You: Having A Baby, We’re Pregnant The First Time Dads Pregnancy Handbook.” He smiles. “And my favorite The Sh!t No One Tells You About Pregnancy: A Guide to Surviving Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Beyond .”

“You read all those?” I ask, shocked because I really haven’t gotten any books.

“I didn’t read every one all at once. Well, most are week by week, and it’s like a surprise present to read it each week. Like Christmas for forty weeks, if that makes sense,” he tells me. “We can read it together if you want.” I nod my head. “I will have to get you yours because I make notes in mine.”

“Notes? What kind of notes?” I ask him, baffled by this whole conversation.

“Nothing really,” he says. “Just what you were feeling, what foods you ate that didn’t give you sickness, how sick you were.”

“You wrote down all of that?” And he nods. “You are seriously crazy.”

“It’s for the baby,” he tells me. “So he or she can read it and see how much you did for them.”

“I’m pretty sure me carrying the child and giving birth will let them know how much I did for them,” I tell him. “But now that the nausea has passed for the moment, I’m starving.”

He gets up, and I follow him with the glass putting it down in the sink of the huge white kitchen. “What do you want to eat?” he asks me, walking out of the house and opening the car door for me.

I look down, shy now. “Chicken parm,” I say, and he just smiles.

“That’s my baby,” he says. His chest puffs out, and I roll my eyes at him. He takes me to an Italian restaurant. We walk in holding hands, and I have the best chicken parm I’ve had in my life, and I pray that it stays down. When we walk out, there is paparazzi there, and he holds my hand the hold time. They call his name and ask him who I am,