Thin Lives (Donati Bloodlines #3) by Bethany-Kris Page A

looked good in my appointment yesterday. Besides, I wanted to be here.”
    Calisto patted her hand. “I still think you should be resting.”
    Emma laughed. “I plan to, no worries.”
    The closer they came to the row of cars parked along a private road that was adjacent to the main road, the slower Calisto began to walk. Given that Emma’s arm was tucked along his, she was forced to walk slower, too.
    She didn’t know what was up with him, but he’d grown quiet.
    “Was that what happened to that baby?” Calisto asked. “He was born early?”
    “Too early to live outside of my body,” Emma replied quietly. “But he did live for a short while, and I was able to love him for that time as much as I possibly could. That’s the one and only thing that got me through handing him over to y—”
    Emma stopped speaking abruptly, well aware what she almost divulged. A secret about that day that no one knew except her, the doctor, and the one nurse who had stayed in the room after little Affonso had stopped breathing. Calisto would know, too … if he could remember.
    Calisto’s walk slowed to a stall altogether, as did Emma’s as she had no choice but to follow him since he was still holding her. Without a word, he directed her off to the side of the path, slightly hidden by a few birch trees, and allowed a group of people to pass them from behind.
    “Keep going,” he said. “You stopped. I want you to keep going.”
    She swallowed hard, glancing to the side. She couldn’t meet that soul-black stare of Calisto’s. Usually, she adored looking into his eyes and seeing all that was good, familiar, and beautiful staring back at her. When he was cold everywhere else, he was lit up in his eyes.
    It was only lately, with his memories being gone, that she felt like staring at him was like staring at a stranger.
    But right then …
    At that moment, he looked nothing like a stranger.
    “You’re doing it again,” Calisto said. “Looking over your shoulder like someone might see you chatting with me. You did that in the library, too.”
    Emma tugged her arm out of his hold, needing the space. “I told you why.”
    “A bit, but I don’t think you told me all.”
    Jesus.
    She looked down the pathway at the row of cars, searching for Affonso. As long as her husband didn’t see her chatting privately with Calisto, there should be no problem.
    But it was hard to avoid her husband’s sharp eye.
    It was even harder to avoid his heavy hand. She had learned that once on the floor of her walk-in closet when Affonso nearly killed her after finding out she was pregnant. He only stopped because the child she carried was a boy, and the baby belonged to Calisto.
    Otherwise, she didn’t doubt that Affonso would have strangled her or beaten her to death, right there on the marble floor while Calisto was sleeping downstairs.
    It was fucking impossible for Emma to forget that awful night. It was even more impossible to forget how easily Affonso had attacked her, and that he would likely do it again in a second if she gave him one reason.
    That was all the bastard needed.
    A reason .
    Crossing her arms to discourage Calisto from holding her again, Emma faced him. “There’s nothing else to tell about it. Draw your own conclusions. You know Affonso is territorial. It’s never someone else’s fault that they’re near me, it’s always mine. Is that what you want, for him to throw a fit because we’re having a friendly conversation while I’m wearing your jacket?”
    Calisto’s face barely flickered with an emotion. “Of course not.”
    “What else do you want to know?”
    “Very little about my uncle,” Calisto murmured.
    Emma’s gaze cut to his. “Then what?”
    Silently, Calisto held out his arm and began unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. Emma couldn’t help but notice how the ink on his hand, where he had the cross done inside his palm, seemed less faded than it had the last time she looked at it. Like maybe he had the