Daphne
I pulled a dark red blazer over my ivory colored blouse and checked my reflection in the mirror. I wore my mother’s string of pearls around my neck, and a skirt with an elastic waist that was forgiving of my expanding abdomen. I slipped on a pair of ivory flats and went to have breakfast, eager to hear how Nash’s first day of training went.
I rounded the corner into the dining room and found both men sitting at the table looking broody. It should have been tense and uncomfortable, but I found it unbearably sexy.
Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones.
It appeared that the seating arrangement had changed. There were only three place settings today, one on either side of Louis. Nash was already occupying the seat that had been formally warmed by Pilar Larkin. As I entered, Lo
