The silence that followed was heavy. The popping of the fire seemed to stop.
Marissa froze. Her hand went still in his grip. Her heart skipped a beat. She stared at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly.
Derek didn't look away. He released her hand and reached up. He caressed her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, then brushing over her lower lip.
"I want a child, Mari," Derek said. His voice was raw, stripped of all pretense.
He looked sad. It was a deep, quiet sadness that he usually hid behind his walls of strength and duty.
"I want a family," he confessed. "Not just a legacy. Not just an heir for the title or someone to inherit the land. I want a part of us. I want to see you holding a baby that has your eyes and my smile. I want to know that we created something good in this chaotic world."
He looked down at the floor for a second, gathering his courage, then looked back at her.
