Mary was absolutely right. John Mackenzie, eight pounds and two ounces, made his debut right on time. His heritage was immediately apparent in the thick black hair, blue eyes and straight black brows of his father. After his birth Caroline slept, and Joe dozed in the chair by her bed, his son lying on his chest and making squeaky little grunting noises. Caroline awakened, her drowsy eyes moving around the room until her gaze lit on the pair by her side. She reached out, first touching her husband’s hand and then the tiny hand that lay curled on his chest.

Joe’s eyes opened. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi, yourself.” He looked wonderful, she thought. Kind of grubby and rumpled. He was still in uniform, having been summoned straight from the base. The nurses were probably all swooning at his feet. She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. “Give me a kiss.”

He did, his mouth lingering hungrily over hers. “In a few weeks I’ll give you a lot more.”

“Umm. I can’t wait.” He made a few lascivious promises to her that made her heart pound, and she laughed as she took the sleeping baby from him. “You shouldn’t talk like that in front of him. He’s too young.”

“It’s nothing new to him, sweetheart. He’s been well acquainted with me from the very beginning.”

She looked down at the tiny, serious face, and this time her heart swelled, blooming until it nearly filled her chest. It was incredible. This magnificent little creature was incredible. Her parents, having decided to stay in Greece for a couple of years, were on their way, but the flight was so long and the connections so horrible that it would be another ten hours before they arrived. John’s other grandparents, however, had managed to get there before he was born, and he’d already been in their arms.

“Where are Wolf and Mary?” she asked sleepily.

“In the cafeteria. They said they were hungry, but I think they wanted to give us some time alone.”

“I wish they’d brought Maris and the boys.”

“They were taking final exams at school. They’ll see him soon enough.”

She looked back down at the baby, tracing the downy cheek with her fingertip. To her surprise, he abruptly turned his head toward the touch, the tiny mouth opening as he sought it.

Joe laughed and said, “That isn’t it, son. You need to fine-tune your targeting a little.”

The baby had begun fretting. Caroline opened her gown and gently guided the avid little mouth to her breast. He clamped down on it with a grunting noise.

“He’s a typical Mackenzie,” she murmured. “Which means he isn’t typical at all.”

She looked up and met Joe’s eyes, brilliant and filled with more desire and love than she’d ever thought to see in her life. No, there was nothing typical about this man. He was on a fast track to the stars, and he was carrying her with him.