Page 55 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“You’re right—I did. But, so what? That proves nothing. It could’ve been a one-off.”

“But it wasn’t. Tonight, before you got all into your head, you were letting yourself feel. When I first kissed your palm. You liked that.”

“This is so embarrassing.”

Her blush endeared, but she wasn’t asking him to stop, so he pressed on. “But necessary. I’m trying to get you to see it’s not hopeless.” Persuasion. “You liked it when I kissed your palm.”

She sighed again. “I did.” A grudging acknowledgement.

“And when I kissed your arm?”

“That was nice.”

“And that first kiss? The one that was just a touch?”

A nod.

“How about the second kiss?”

Another nod.

“So now we’re at the third kiss. Do you remember that one? That was when you kissed me.”

She dropped her head in her hands but nodded again. A few moments passed before she met his gaze. “I liked that one a lot. But then it all fell apart. Why did it fall apart?”

“Because we got ahead of ourselves. A good kiss can be as good as sex. We need to remember that next time.”

“Next time?” She looked at him with something akin to disbelief. “You’re serious. You want to try that again?”

“Maybe we should consider counseling first. You’re capable of physical urges, but you don’t know how to react to them. We need to work together to figure this out.” Finally, at last, he gave in to the desperate urge, snaking out his arm to grasp her hand. “I promise you this much, counselor, you’ll have an orgasm. And it’ll literally blow your mind.”

Her tears returned. She squeezed his hand. “You have so much faith in me. What did I ever do to deserve it?”

“You opened your door and gave me a chance. You let me prove to you I was trustworthy. You trusted me with Calleigh, and you’re beginning to trust me with yourself. Let go. Know I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He was unprepared when she launched herself into his arms, but he regained his equilibrium. Her tears were wet and hot against his cool skin. Her tremors nearly brought him to his knees. He could admit in his head what his heart already knew.

He was in love with Remy St. Claire.

Chapter twenty-three

WhenRemyawoke,shefelt…strange. Her throat was raw and parched.

Am I hungover again?

Nope, didn’t touch a drop of booze yesterday.

But you did get married.

Perhaps this was her honeymoon hangover.

As she pushed herself up to a sitting position, memories of the night before assailed her, and her stomach rebelled. She barely made it to the toilet before she lost what little was left in her stomach. The heaves weren’t as violent as the night she’d consumed all that wine, but throwing up was never fun. A few more good heaves and she finished. She pulled out her toothbrush and did her best to freshen her breath. She paused to hear if Rusty had stirred. Nope, not a peep.

Shower.

When she emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, he still slept. She’d let him sleep on the bed, although she’d been under the comforter while he lay on top of it. Sometime during the night, however, he’d crept over to her side. In sleep, he’d pulled her against him, and she hadn’t fought. She’d felt safe—in the shelter of his arms.

She could have a lifetime of safety.Ifher husband didn’t smarten up and ask her for an annulment. Her reactions shamed her, and his patience awed her. She’d seen him give that love and protection to the girls. His bestowing it upon her shouldn’t have surprised her. This gift she’d always treasure. She’d never take his emotions for granted. He was so open and honest with her. Why couldn’t she just reciprocate? But could she? Let up a bit of that ever-present vigilance?

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