Her head rested on my shoulder, her hands were on her belly as I read to her.

" 'What giants?' Asked Sancho Panza.

'The ones you can see over there,' answered his master, 'with the huge arms, some of which are very nearly two leagues long.' "

I watched as her eyes drooped closed, watched as her breathing became deep and regular. I kept reading.

" 'Now look, your grace,' said Sancho, 'what you see over there aren't giants, but windmills, and what seems to be arms are just their sails, that go around in the wind and turn the millstone.' "

Suddenly I felt it, the smallest nudge near my arm, almost a poke. I stopped reading and looked down. For a fraction of a second I could see a tiny foot through the gap between the edge of my shirt and where her pajama pants began.

"Hello, girls." I said softly. "I'm Papa Milos. Do you like hearing my voice?" Nothing. "I know, your mother has a nicer voice. You should hear her play the violin. She's amazing."

I looked up to see if I was interrupting Petra's sleep. She was still breathing slowly and evenly. I pressed a finger against her bump, where the feet had been. Suddenly they returned, kicking my hand with force.

"Look at my girls." I murmured. "Strong, just like your Mama. Maybe when you're older you can come learn martial arts with me."

I was not one to daydream, but I could imagine it. Two little copies of Petra, learning to defend themselves. It was an alluring picture of my future. Looking back at my sleeping wife, I decided to carry her to bed. I considered my options, she'd probably prefer to sleep in her own room. Lifting her into my arms, I carried her to the bed in the pink room.

"No, don't leave. Need you." She said sleepily as I tried to put her down. I couldn't help the frisson of excitement that ran through me. I stood back up with her still in my arms, and brought her to the blue room with me. She clung to me as I laid down with her on the bed.

"I love you, Petra." I whispered to her.

"Mm, you too." She whispered back, laying her head on my shoulder. And though she'd been talking in her sleep, I was certain she meant it.

Earlier That Day

It was four in the afternoon, and I was sure the meeting was never going to end. One of the board members was droning on and on about something. Overhead? Catering? Something. He'd been talking for almost four hours. I took another sip of my water. I was so hungry.

"As you can see from this slide," Another pie graph appeared on the screen. I looked around the conference table, everyone seemed as clueless as I was. Why was this presentation so long? The girls weren't moving much, either. He probably bored them to sleep. I wondered what Milos was doing. Certainly not sitting through a board meeting.

"In conclusion," The insufferable man continued. The other people in the room perked, but I refused to get my hopes up for the end of this presentation. Forty five minutes later, he was actually done. Rafael turned to me.

"I can't believe it's already five. Want to grab dinner with me?" It certainly wasn't an unusual invitation. He was lonely, I was lonely. Or I had been, until two days ago.

I rolled my eyes. "Raincheck? This meeting means I had to push back my pre rehearsal meeting with Miss Crazy."

He laughed. "Good luck with that. Call if you need me again."

I snapped my folder closed, smirking. "Her fiancé will be there. The last thing we need is a reprisal of Melee at the Marbella."

I left the room, making my way to the elevator. My phone flashed as I waited, an email from Miss Crazy. She needed to reschedule the meeting for tomorrow morning, fine by me. I took the elevator up, back towards my rooms.

"I'm home." I called out, wandering through the apparently vacant suite. I wondered where Milos was. How had I come to miss his presence so quickly? I'd always had my mother around, I reasoned with myself. I wasn't used to being alone, that was all. Rubbing my belly, I grabbed the bowl of strawberries from this morning and brought them to the living room for a snack. I was still hungry. Then I sat down and started to check my email.

About thirty minutes later there was a click as the door opened, and the most delicious aroma invaded the room. I peeked over the back of the couch, and my mouth went dry. Milos was standing there in a tight blue t-shirt, carrying a take out box of pizza with two enormous cups balancing on it.

"What is all that?" I asked, an involuntary smile spreading across my face. He walked over to me, gave me a quick kiss.

"I was at boxing and mentioned wanting to do something nice for my gorgeous pregnant wife. The men said I should get you pizza and a chocolate milkshake, that their wives all loved that. So change out of that beautiful dress, put on your coziest pajamas, and come have pizza and milkshakes with me. Then we can watch the telenovelas you don't think I know you record."

I stood up, wrapping my arms around his neck as he put the box down on the coffee table. "Why don't you take my dress off for me?" I whispered in his ear, pressing my body to his. He ran his hands up my thighs, up my sides, to my neck, then let down my hair and pulled down the zipper on the back of my dress.

"It would be my pleasure." He murmured against the back of my neck, as he slowly peeled the tight pink dress off me. He sucked in a breath at the sight of my black lace push up bra and matching panties. I could feel his erection stirring against me, sending a thrill through my body.

Milos grabbed my hand and led me around to the back of the couch, a small smirk playing across his face as I stood with my legs against it. Then he kissed me, deeply, while his hand pushed my thighs apart. A finger slid under my panties, gently rubbing. I moaned at the contact, my hands clutching his shoulders.

"How does fast and hard sound my darling?" He murmured.

I nodded, making unintelligible noises as two of his long fingers entered me while his thumb continued its sensual assault on my clitoris. I arched my body closer to his, felt his erection pushing at my side.

"Milos, I need you now!" I was nearly begging and too aroused to care. I wanted more.

He dropped his lips to mine, kissing me deeply for a moment. Then he gently put his hands on my hips and turned me around, so I was leaning against the couch.

"Spread those beautiful legs so I can come between them." He whispered filthily.

I immediately did as I was told, and was rewarded with the head of his cock pressing against me.

"Tell me if it's too hard." He said, then surged into me. I immediately called out his name, my entire body clenching around him. He felt amazing, filling me perfectly, hitting every achy spot in me.

His thrusts were hard and deep, coming faster and faster. I could feel myself getting closer to my orgasm with every passing second. Milos moved one hand from my hip around to my sweet spot. I ground my hips against his fingers as he moved in and out of me, my moans getting louder by the moment.

I could feel Milos' hot breath on my back, his skin on mine, his hands on me, and then I was coming, calling out his name over and over as he came with me, tumbling over the precipice together.

"You are a goddess." My husband said, kissing me on the cheek and withdrawing from me.

"You're pretty amazing yourself." I said, still catching my breath. "That was exactly what I needed."

He nodded in agreement, before pulling away so I could stand fully upright again. I kissed him one last time, then picked up my dress and walked back to my room. I put it in the dry cleaning pile, grabbed a camisole and pulled on my favorite flannel pajama pants. Then I groaned.

"What is wrong, my darling?" Milos was leaning against the door frame in his shirt and shorts, grinning.

I turned to face him, about four inches of belly visible between my camisole and my pants. "This shirt used to fit."

He came over to me, laid his hands on my bump. "You've never looked more beautiful. Even better than I imagined."

That warm feeling tickled my heart again. I gave him a little smile. "Thank you. Let me just change."

For a fleeting moment, a strange look crossed his face. "Wear my shirt. It's clean."

I almost laughed until I saw he was serious. Instead I found myself nodding. "Okay. If it fits."

That grin of his was back. He pulled off his shirt and handed it to me as I removed my unfortunately short camisole. His shirt was soft and warm. As I pulled it over my head I spent a moment wrapped in his scent, manly and clean. It was nearly intoxicating, not that I would let him know.

"It fits." I said, surprised. Milos was quiet, just staring at me. "What, should I take it off?"

"No!" He said suddenly. His voice was a little hoarse. "I like it. A lot. May I?"

His hand was outstretched towards my belly. I nodded my assent, and he lightly touched it. At first with just his fingertips, then with both palms. Slowly his hands moved around, exploring the incredible girth of my pregnancy. I hoped one of the girls would move for him, but they didn't. Milos didn't seem to care. He was gazing at my bump with an expression I had only seen when Rafael looked at Mateo. Love, devotion, something else. He was looking at my stomach like a proud father.

My throat felt a little tight. "I'll leave your shirts on more often." I managed. My heart was thumping in my chest.

"Let's get you fed." Milos replied solicitously. There were no words for how much I appreciated him not commenting on my emotional state.

We went back to the living room, each taking a slice of pizza. I took one bite and my stomach churned unpleasantly.

I put it down on my plate and picked up my milkshake instead. It was cool and sweet. It was the most delicious thing I think I'd ever consumed. Milos lifted a brow, then took my slice of pizza and pushed his milkshake towards me.

"Keep moaning and I'm likely to get jealous of that." He teased gently.

"You have to try it." I insisted. "It's incredible."

He took a sip. "It's very good."

Maybe his was defective. I took another sip of mine. It was still the best thing I'd ever tasted.

"What are we watching?" Milos asked, turning on the DVR.

"Tiago." I answered. "The one closest to the bottom."

The show started with the cheesy opening credits and launched into an episode about the King of Spain. "So what do I need to know?" He asked.

"He's a time traveling cobbler." I replied. "Don't over think it."

Throughout the episode I snuck peeks at the man next to me. He raised an eyebrow as Tiago seduced Katherine of Aragon, laughed a little at one of the King's overreactions. Finally it was over.

"So this is what you watch." Milos said dubiously as the credits rolled.

Heat tinged my cheeks. "It's no Passions of Santos, but I like it. It makes more sense if you've seen more than one episode."

His brows furrowed for a second. "Santos? That sounds familiar."

I took a long drink of milkshake, looking anywhere but at him. "Ivan used to watch it with Mother and I. I'm sorry for your loss, by the way. I know you were close."

He took one of my hands in his, lightly squeezing. "It's not your fault. If it hadn't been Magda, it would have been someone else. But thank you."

"I was a little surprised you didn't kill him yourself after finding out about it all."

A short, barking laugh escaped him. "I considered it. But I would have done the same thing had the situation been reversed. And from what I hear, you two punished him enough."

I rolled my eyes. "We fed him lobster and let him watch TV. He was hardly shut up in the Gulag."

Milos kissed me softly on the cheek. "Thank you for taking care of him. It was very kind."

I put my mostly empty milkshake down, then curled up against him the best that my belly would allow. "Let's not give me too much credit."

"I don't think anyone has ever given you enough credit, Petra." Milos murmured against my hair. My eyes were barely staying open.

"Read to me?" I asked.

He nodded, then grabbed one his books from coffee table. "Have you ever read Don Quixote?"

I shook head.

"Well you're in luck, I'm at best part." Milos' eyes were glittering with mirth. Something fluttered inside me, probably one the girls moving. "Destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected. Look there, Sancho Panza, my friend, and see those thirty or so wild giants, with whom I intend to do battle and kill each and all of them..."

His voice was strong and clear, rumbling through his chest and against my face. I felt warm, safe, satiated, comfortable. Then sleep took me.