Free Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines Book 2) by Bethany-Kris Page A

This is her first sit-down with another family. The least
she can do is follow my goddamn rules.”
    Affonso’s fury bounced off Calisto. It wasn’t unusual
for his uncle to throw a temper tantrum.
    “I’m supposed to be at the breakfast, too,” Calisto
said. “Why can’t Turner handle Emma this morning while I drive you, like we
originally planned?”
    Calisto didn’t think Emma would appreciate him
demanding shit from her first thing in the morning. He certainly didn’t need
the trouble added onto his plate. Hell, he’d managed to stay away from her for
three months.
    A little longer wouldn’t hurt. It might even help to
get rid of the last bit of his lingering feelings that kept urging him to seek
her out simply because he couldn’t forget. Calisto was not a weak man. He was
not going to let the memories of one fucking night, the morning after, and his
unshakable guilt ruin him.
    Calisto did that once with Emma.
    Look at where it got him.
    “I don’t have time for this,” Affonso grumbled. “Do as
I said, Cal.”
    Damn it.
    “Fine,” Calisto agreed.
    Affonso headed for the front entryway. Calisto was
already halfway up the staircase when he heard the door open behind him.
    What a great day this was turning out to be.
     

     
    Calisto knocked on the bathroom door for the fourth
time, ignoring the irritation settling deep in his gut. It unsettled him to be
in his uncle’s and Emma’s bedroom. He didn’t like the somber feel of the room,
and just looking at the unmade bed was enough to turn his stomach.
    It still pissed him off.
    It still made him sick .
    Clearly, he was not over whatever little issue he had
with Affonso marrying Emma. Calisto couldn’t seem to move past the idea of the
woman having to share a bed night after night with Affonso, despite the fact
that she obviously did.
    The woman was pregnant, after all.
    Calisto drew in a slow breath, and willed away the
annoyance. Knocking on the bathroom door once more, Calisto said, “Emmy, are
you almost done, or what?”
    He’d been knocking on the door for a while. Emma had
only answered him once, saying she didn’t feel well and asking for a couple of
minutes. Calisto didn’t understand a whole hell of a lot about pregnancy, but
he did know the mornings could be hell for some women.
    It was better he didn’t pry.
    Calisto didn’t need details.
    He raised his fist to knock on the door again, only to
find it swinging open. His hand dropped to his side, and he took a step back.
    Emma stood in the bathroom doorway, looking tired and
worn. Her hair had been thrown up into a messy bun, and she stood barefoot on
the tile. The silk, white robe she wore had been cinched at her waist, and fell
mid-thigh. Calisto’s gaze dropped to Emma’s midsection.
    He immediately wished he hadn’t.
    She was finally starting to show. Calisto had been
lucky enough to miss those changes, being that he stayed away. Now, he could
plainly see the early swell of Emma’s stomach pushing against the silk robe.
    “Eighteen weeks,” she said softly.
    Calisto’s gaze snapped back up to Emma’s face. It was
easier to focus on her pretty features with her soft lines and smooth skin
rather than the roundness of her stomach. She was with child—someone else’s
child.
    It wasn’t his.
    It would never be his.
    Yet, Emma was still beautiful. Even in her state, with
her swell, her flushed skin, and her tired eyes. Calisto clenched his fists
tight, feeling his fingernails cut into his skin. A war raged inside his mind,
and an invisible agony following right behind. What in the hell was wrong with
him?
    He felt like a sick bastard, almost enjoying the pain.
    “I beg your pardon?” Calisto managed to ask.
    “I’m eighteen weeks along, Cal.”
    “Oh.”
    Emma nodded. “Almost halfway.”
    “Do you know what it is?”
    “Yes. I had some testing done early on, shortly after
I passed the first trimester. The doctor wanted to check the amniotic fluid and
do a genetic