Page 130 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“Yeah—”

She struggled to her feet, tripping on the blanket.

Only his quick reflexes kept her from toppling over. As he held her in his arms, he had that feeling. The feeling of having come home. When she pushed away, he released her.

“Perhaps you should sleep in your old room tonight.”

He shook his head, not sure he’d understood. Or maybe she’d misunderstood. “I left because I was overwhelmed by guilt. I hurt you. I swore I’d never do that, and yet, despite my best intentions, I did.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, wariness in her expression. “What are you saying?”

“That I want to you to fight for us, Remy. Fight for us like you helped me fight for Mira. I know you said we got married too soon, but I don’t feel that way.”

There was a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I thought…”

Without hesitation, he pulled her into his embrace. He ran his hands up and down her back, even as she held herself stiff.

Then, with a hiccup, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him.

“I want to fight for us, Rusty. I want us to be a family for real.”

“God, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that. I thought…I thought when you tried to send me back to Sissy, you were saying you wanted out of our marriage.”

She shook her head. “I wanted you to know that you had options. The choice had to be yours.”

“Well, I’m making my choice.” He scooped her into his arms. Her arms twined around his neck as he carried her to their bedroom. “I never carried you across the threshold.”

Hiccupping, she gazed into his eyes. “I never cared about such things.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I want to do this right.” He strode across the threshold to their bedroom, walking over to the bed, guided by the light from the hallway. He laid her gently across the covers. “I’m going to go turn out the lights.”

“Okay.”

He made quick work of checking the locks and turning off the lights. He came back to the bedroom, and his breath was stolen.

She’d folded the cover back, an invitation for him to join her. And she was there, his wife.

Naked, with a mischievous grin on her face.

Chapter fifty-one

Remywascertainhisclothes would tear as he ripped them from his body. She laughed as he struggled out of his jeans and sighed when he pulled off his socks. He was offering her a strip-show of a kind, and it turned her on more than any orchestrated show number could ever do.

She was as anxious for him to come to bed as he was to get there. Because, as much as there were words that needed to be spoken and promises to be made, this was more elemental. Thanks to him, she knew what feeling sexual desire meant. She needed this intimacy as much as she needed her next breath.

When he was naked, he stood before her, and she inhaled. He was a male in all his glory and her breath hitched.My man.

As he got into bed with her, her nervousness ratcheted up a notch. When he took her mouth without preliminaries, however, that nervousness settled into a strumming need. When his hand dipped, she opened without hesitation. He knew what she needed before she even had the thought.

On the verge of losing her mind, she tugged him over her. When he tried to ease in gently, she flexed her hips, drawing him in to the hilt. His ragged breathing told her she was on the right track. This time there was no pain—no need to get used to the intrusion. So right, it stole her breath.

He grinned. “Breathe, Remy.”

She gulped in air, letting her blood saturate with oxygen. “I love you, Rusty.”

His grin faltered and she wanted to kick herself. She hadn’t meant to be so open. She hadn’t meant—

“I love you.” He flexed his hips, filling her even further. “Never doubt my feelings for you.”

---