It turned out Mr. Pearlman had a massive stroke in his sleep, and the paramedics who picked him up tried to reassure me that he went peacefully. Despite my exhaustion, I had a fitful sleep, but I stayed in bed for a solid six hours while Vincent tackled the job of telling people to shove-off until I'd had proper rest.

When morning came, I had the unpleasant job of calling Mr. Pearlman's only living relative who gave a shit, or at least half a shit; his grandson, Steve. The news didn't come as a complete shock, since the last time Steve came to visit, Mr. Pearlman was recovering from his near-death experience. Although I told Steve the memorial would be a small one held at the funeral home, he promised to be there. Sadly, I figured he was mostly interested in raiding Henry's stuff to see what he could find.

In typical Valentino style, Vincent made sure every expense was handled, and he kept me supplied with beverages and healthy take-out while I took care of business. Sylvie would have come over to offer the solace only a bestie could provide, but she and her new man, Ellis, had already left to visit his parents on Staten Island.

It was evening before I finally checked everything off my list, and with Vincent out running errands, I stood in front of my closet trying to decide which black dress would be appropriate for Mr. Pearlman's memorial on Tuesday. I needed something modest, which ruled out most of my wardrobe. Even my work clothes gave off that I may be unavailable, but I've still got it vibe. Vincent would probably suggest I call Todd and his overly-enthusiastic assistant, but I didn't want to rely on the Valentino's connections every time I needed something.

I stared down at my belly and the little bump that had already developed there, knowing none of my black dresses would work, even the stretchy ones. Actually, it was probably time I went shopping for maternity clothes. The problem was, I wasn't far along enough in human gestation to warrant pregnancy gear yet, and the rumor mill would grab ahold of that and not let go until I had dragged the good name of Valentino through the proverbial mud. I needed help, and I knew just the person to give it. I picked up my cellphone and pressed speed dial for the number next door.

"Hey, Reese. You alright?" Amelia asked.

"Yes and no. I don't know what to wear to Mr. Pearlman's memorial. Everything I own looks like it belongs on a Vera Wang model, not on a pregnant woman attending a funeral."

"Oh, I see. Hang tight. I'll be right over."

I didn't have to wait long before Amelia had joined me in front of my closet. After laying all the black dresses I owned on the bed, she stood back and gave each one a hard look. Then she turned to me and did the same thing.

"As far as your figure is concerned, you're about where you should be at this stage," she said. "I started showing at two-and-a-half months. Gollums are different than humans that way."

"I know that, but the public doesn't. One look at my baby bump and they'll be all over me like stink on a sack of rotten potatoes."

Amelia grinned at my joke. "I know you hate the paparazzi, but it will be part of your life from here on out. I'd love to tell you it's going to get better, but I wouldn't know. I've never dated Vincent. At least, not publicly."

My heart skipped a few beats at her revelation, but I tried to shrug it off, since she didn't seem bothered by it. "Really? You and Vincent hooked-up before you and Jonathan got together?" I wasn't sure why I was asking such personal questions, since my emotions had been all over the board lately, but there was no backsies now.

"We got together briefly when he was just figuring out what to do with his penis, but we both realized we were better suited as friends and sparring partners." She offered me a sisterly smile. "You don't really want to know about all that, do you? It's ancient history, and Vincent is completely nuts over you. You will never have to worry about another female commanding his attention... Ever."

"Thanks. I have a feeling you're right. So, what should I do about an appropriate dress for this thing?"

"Well, maternity clothes are more form-fitting these days." She picked up a Lycra dress with three-quarter sleeves and a knee-length hem. The wrap-around bodice offered the option of more or less boob coverage, which I liked, but it would definitely show off the baby bump. "I say you wear this with your black London Fog. If the media wants to print shit about you, at least they'll be eating their heart out when they see your badass flaunting the goods in this."

A huge grin took over my face, which complimented Amelia's smirk. "I like the way you think. Badass funeral bitch, it is."

Happy to have an amazing sister to help me tackle the tough choices of a megamogul wife, I gave myself permission to relax on the couch with the whippets and the remote. When Vincent arrived home from his errands and found me there, contentment replaced whatever thoughts had been commanding his brain, and he grinned all the way over to me.

"I'm glad to see you're taking it easy," he said as he sat down and placed a grocery bag on the coffee table. "Get everything done?"

"Yep. I even had Amelia come over and help me choose a dress for the memorial. I'm going for badass bitch in a trench."

His eyebrows shot up. "You know I'm always on board with badass. Other than that, how are you feeling?"

I received a kiss to the forehead, and I knew exactly what he was up to. "I feel fine, but I'm guessing you're still worried about my condition."

"I will always worry about you. But I worry more knowing Dmitry's foul magic is infecting you and our baby." He held my gaze with eyes that had already begun to swirl with storm clouds.

"I've been thinking about it too, Vincent. But what can we do? We're at his mercy?"

"From where I stand, he's at ours. We have things he wants. We could make his life miserable. Or, I could just bust down his door and beat him until he begs."

He clenched his hand in his lap, and I lifted it, pressing his knuckles to my lips. "We can't solve everything with our fists. Besides, this guy can turn himself into smoke. Who knows what else he's capable of?"

Vincent nodded, but his face told a different story. As if he needed a distraction, he quickly snatched the bag from the table and lifted out a powder blue box with an image on it.

"What's that?" I asked as he pried open one of the flaps.

"It's a fetal doppler. The best on the market. We'll be able to hear our baby's heartbeat any time we want."

I smiled at my big, bad gollum as he pulled out the plastic device and unwrapped it with a boyish twinkle in his eyes. The owner's manual fell to the floor, and he didn't bother to pick it up as he began putting the device together. Typical.

I scooped up the instructions and read them out loud while he stayed one step ahead of me. Vincent insisted on using the wand first, and his eyes lit up when he found the gentle whoosh just above my pubic bone. "There he is," he said.

"He?"

"Or she. I'll be thrilled with either."

As we listened to the music of our baby's heart, my eyes began welling with tears, and Vincent leaned in to press his lips to my mouth. His kiss felt urgent, and I returned it in kind, going all in, with tongue and fingers that I dragged through his thick hair.

"Damn, I've missed you." Vincent continued to sample my skin, trailing his tongue along my neck and groping my breasts through my shirt. "We haven't been intimate in...in... days," he moaned.

He didn't have to tell me that. My body always knew when its cravings went unsatisfied, and I dropped my head back as he tugged my collar down and dipped his tongue between my cleavage. His sensual assault sent a signal to my groin, and my pelvis automatically rose off the couch. Vincent's hand came down to grab my crotch, igniting a fire between my legs. Only, this was the good kind of fire.

"Vincent, I need you."

The words were barely off my lips before he scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom. I loved take-charge Vincent. I also loved that his need for me made him desperate. At least I wasn't the only one. After laying me on the bed, he pulled my sweatpants off while I wiggled out of my shirt. Then he knelt between my legs and unzipped his pants. I felt like a dog begging for a bone as I watched his erection spring free from his briefs, and I had the sudden, insatiable desire to have him in my mouth.

I scrambled to my knees and pushed him onto his back. He didn't resist as I straddled one of his legs, rubbing my sensitive nub against his thigh as I leaned over and took his smooth head between my lips. A feral growl left him as he submitted to me, and his hands came down on my shoulders as I lowered over his length and sucked him deep into my throat. I wanted to take it all in. To swallow him whole, but he had so much to give. So, I took my time to taste every inch of my sexy gollum, inviting his salty essence to flavor my tongue.

It didn't take long before Vincent was straining to hold back, and his hips jerked reflexively as he held my head in position. I knew how badly he needed release, and how much he needed me to make that happen. Packed tightly in my mouth, I dragged his thickness across the ridges of my palate, and a deep rumble rolled up from his chest, telling me he was nearly there. Then...

"Et receptum release!" He ground out the mantra as he stopped pumping me, and my body responded by letting him go. I wasn't surprised he'd nixed the amazing action we had going. He usually favored unloading between my legs. But I couldn't help thinking I was burning him.

"Baby, are you alright?" I tried to read the pinched expression on his face. Was it the look of pleasure or pain?

"Yeah. Turn around." He nearly shouted his command as he grabbed my hips and swiveled me to face the wall. When I felt him at my entrance, my body spasmed in anticipation. Then I felt the satisfying stretch as my body accommodated his bulk. Vincent groaned as he pressed himself deeper, speaking through a clenched jaw. "This love will be my undoing. You are all I think about. Like my next meal. My next breath."

His words came out strained as he pummeled me from behind, making my world spin. Could he still feel the heat of the curse? I wanted to ask, but he didn't seem to care. He was taking the punishment as well as the pleasure, stroking himself inside my hotbox.

With another strangled cry, Vincent delivered his warmth like a shot of liquid love, pulling out and covering my ass then diving back in. He repeated his beastial version of release until his grip loosened on my hips. But I knew he wasn't finished. He never left me unsated, and the high of his climax had me primed and throbbing.

"You okay in this position?" He spoke over my back as he dragged his erection between my slick lips, sending tremors straight to my core.

"Perfect," I purred.

"Yes. You are." Vincent kissed my neck and nibbled my ear as he dipped his thickness inside then pulled out to rub the head across my swollen skin, tweaking my senses until my vision blurred. "Come for me, babe. Come all over me."

I didn't need his coaxing. My orgasm erupted in a burst of blinding pleasure, and spots dotted my eyelids as I squeezed them tight. Vincent relished in my release, coating his fingers with my juices and rubbing them over my belly and ass. Slipping back through my open door, he stilled as the remnants of my climax contracted around him.

"I could stay inside you all day. I love you so damn much, it hurts."

His words moved me, and I reached around to caress the hair falling across his forehead. "Do you mean that literally? Am I burning you, right now?"

"Not enough to make me want to stop touching you. But it may be less than before."

"Really? I guess we found a good way to check my temperature, huh?"

I smiled as he withdrew and pulled me down with him, cocooning me inside his arms as our juices mixed with sticky skin. "If you don't mind, l'd like to check your temperature every two hours. Just to be sure."