"Do you ever think about adoption?" Emily asked, surprising even herself. She cringed a little at the reaction that crossed Ian's face – more about her timing than the actual subject itself, given that he was in the middle of pounding into her and nearing climax.

"Em..." he groaned, "Can't this wait?"

"Of course," she murmured, attempting to be sultry, but it was easy to see her heart wasn't in it.

With a rather dramatic sigh, he pulled out of her, mood effectively broken. Rolling off her and onto his back, he pulled the top sheet up over his hips, his hard on tenting the fabric.

"Sorry..." she whispered, guilty – not because she'd ruined the moment, but because they'd been trying.

Now that Declan was six and in school full time, Ian had started suggesting it was time to try for a baby. He had always wanted a big family. Even when she was Lauren, he'd made no secret of his desire for children with her.

She, on the other hand, wasn't so sure.

It wasn't simply that she didn't want children, it wasn't even that she didn't want Ian's children. In fact, she loved children, had always wanted a baby, but it wasn't a simple matter of wanting them or not...

When she'd been undercover, she'd briefly been pregnant. After a bout of the stomach flu – that had rendered her birth control pills ineffective – she'd missed her period. It wasn't entirely unusual, given the incredible amount of stress that came from being undercover, but by the time the nausea showed up every time she even smelled coffee, she'd been certain. At first, she'd been terrified – about the pregnancy, about the repercussions for her career, about being a mother – but she'd slowly come around to the idea of having Ian's baby. But then, just before she could tell him about the baby, she had miscarried.

At the time, she'd convinced herself that it was for the best – that it wasn't the right time, the right circumstances to bring a child into the world. Afterall, Ian – and by extension her – lead dangerous lives. They both had enemies. She wasn't about to bring a baby into that kind of life. She wasn't about to make an orphan...

Now, though, she was starting to wonder if that hadn't been the universe's way of punishing her for having an abortion. She wasn't normally a superstitious person, but she'd never quite been able to erase the memory of Father Guimino's words from her mind.

And every day, she grew more and more certain that he'd been right...

Because ever since they'd gotten engaged, she'd stopped taking her birth control. And every month when her period showed up as expected, she knew it was all her fault.

For a time, she'd been able to stave off Ian's desire to try with the excuse that with her job being so new, it wasn't a good time for her to be pregnant, but now that it had been over a year and her place on the team seemed secure, he'd began suggesting it again. Eventually, she'd agreed, even though she knew in her heart that it simply wasn't meant to be...

She was cursed.

When he was done pouting over being interrupted in the heat of the moment, he asked, "What brought this on?"

Feeling foolish, she chewed her lip, searching for a way to explain it that wouldn't sound completely crazy. "There was this girl..." she said. "Her whole family was murdered and something just came over me and all I could think about was bringing her home with me. I didn't, obviously, but..." She shook her head. Then, she blurted out, "Are you sure you want a baby?"

He sat up rather suddenly, frowning. "Where's this coming from? I thought you wanted to have a baby?"

Sitting up, clutching the sheet to her bare chest, she explained, "I did... I do, it's just... She sighed, met his eyes, rested a gentle hand on his cheek with a silent prayer that she would always remember this moment, after he stopped loving her. "There's something I should tell you," she whispered, "And I hope you'll still love me when I do...but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't." She felt the onslaught of tears in her throat and swallowed hard to keep them at bay lest she break down completely.

He took her hand, swept his thumb across her knuckles before pressing a tender kiss there. "There's nothing you could ever say that would make me stop loving you."

She gave a half sob, half laugh that spoke of her doubt. God, how she wished that were true.

"Before I tell you, I want you to remember that I was fifteen, living in staunchly Catholic Rome, with an oppressively strict mother who cared only about appearances," she prefaced her confession.

Face a mask of concern and confusion, he nodded once.

"I had an abortion when I was fifteen and now I'm cursed," she said in a rush of breath.

For a few moments, he blinked in stunned silence. While it was true that he'd been raised strictly Catholic, it was also true that he knew he wasn't a good man. If anyone had the moral high ground in any given situation, it wasn't him. So, while his upbringing screamed judgments and condemnation, in his heart, he knew that he had no right to judge her. And more so, he knew he loved her hard enough that he could overlook just about anything to be with her.

"You think you're cursed?" he repeated, surprising her with the lack of judgment.

"I am," she insisted. "Otherwise I'd be pregnant by now..."

"Em, what are you talking about?" he asked, brow knit in confusion.

"I stopped my birth control after you proposed," she admitted, "I wanted to surprise you when I got pregnant, but I didn't..."

Mind reeling with her confessions, his mouth hung open a few moments as he tried to form a coherent thought. "But why does that make you cursed? There could be any number of reasons it hasn't worked yet, there's no reason to think you can't get pregnant."

"I took a child's life," she whispered, tone heavy with guilt. She shook her head sadly, an apologetic smile on her lips. "Why would I be allowed another?"

"The universe doesn't work like that," he insisted, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, thumb calloused by years on a trigger brushing the ridge of her cheekbone with surprising gentleness.

She quirked a brow skeptically. "You're the most superstitious person I know, but this is nonsense?"

"I have to believe that," he said simply, "Or I'd lose hope altogether." He continued studying her, seemingly understanding the fear in her eyes all too clearly. "But if you want to pursue adoption instead, that's what we'll do."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Em, I want a family with you because I love you, but I want you to be happy more. Even if that means we're a family of three."

Her responding smile was watery, but her eyes shone with love for this man who shouldn't be capable of such kindness, such empathy, but continued to surprise her with just how much he loved her. "It's not that I don't want a family – I guess I'm just scared..."

"Of what?" he asked, tone gentle, without judgment.

"That I won't be a good mother," she whispered.

"Well, I have enough faith in your abilities for the both of us," he said firmly. "I've seen you with Declan – you already are a good mother. Of that I have no doubts." He kissed her softly. "Now, to bed with you, Love. I promise to keep my hands to myself."

She barked out a laugh. "I hardly believe that."

He just winked. And as she nestled up against his chest, feeling safer in his arms than she had any right to, she knew sure as she knew anything, that curse or no curse, she had all the family she needed...even if it was more than she deserved.