If Maya thought Reid Sterling was protective during a corporate hostile takeover, it was nothing compared to how he operated less than twenty-four hours after seeing a medical printout.
By 7:00 AM, the penthouse had been transformed into an elite fortress of prenatal care. Maya woke up not to the sound of her alarm, but to the gentle rustle of a silk robe being laid over her shoulders and the scent of ginger-infused herbal tea radiating from the nightstand.
When she tried to swing her legs out of bed to head toward the bathroom, a heavy, warm hand gently but firmly intercepted her hip.
"Where are you going?" Reid's voice was a low, gravelly baritone, rough with sleep but completely alert. He was already sitting up, his dark hair messy, but his silver eyes focused on her as if she were a fragile porcelain artifact that might shatter if exposed to a sudden draft.
