Page 62 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“How’re you feeling?”

Remy exhaled the mother of all sighs.

“I could tell you I’m tired, but I promised I wouldn’t lie.” She offered a small smile, but it faltered. “I’m scared, Rusty, pure and simple.”

An overwhelming urge to gather her in his arms washed over him, but he held himself in check. He couldn’t be running to her emotional rescue every time she expressed doubts. When she overcame those doubts, she’d be more rewarded by the victory if she’d done the work on her own.

“Every parent has moments of fear. As I’ve told you, it’s normal.”

“I wasn’t referring to the girls.”

“Okay.”

Chapter twenty-seven

Hewaswaitingforher to say something.

“I want us to share a bed.”

Judging by the expression on his face, he wasn’t expectingthatrevelation.

“Just a bed.”Damn, am I blushing again?“I think we both know I’m not ready for anything more than that right now.” She glanced down at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap. “I think…I want a normal marriage, Rusty. I want it to be the way it’s supposed to be.”

“There is no right or wrong way, Remy.” His voice was soft. “Every marriage is unique.”

No. Hold strong.“I don’t want unique. If we’re going to make this work, then it needs to be a real marriage. I need to you to know I’m all-in.”

“Sleeping in the same bed does not make a marriage. I’m happy to stay in my room. I’m not here to pressure you.”

“We need this to appear like a real marriage.”

His expression darkened. “You keep saying that—but I’m not sure what you’re referring to. No one outside this house needs to know what goes on inside. It’s no one’s business if I sleep in a different room.”

“But the girls—”

“Are too young to know any better. Over the next couple of days, we’ll show them what it’s like to be a family. That’s what’s important.” He cocked his head. “What’s really going on here?”

Damn him.Was she so transparent? This was proving more difficult than she envisioned. “I’m hoping, someday, that we’ll be able to have…conjugal relations.”

“Make love.”

There was no brooking opposition with that tone of voice. “Make love.”There, I can say it.

“If you go into it with that attitude, I’m better off staying in my room.”

She closed her eyes briefly then met his gaze. “Do you want me to beg? Because I’ll—”

He stood, cutting off what she’d been about to say. He made his way over to her, hunkered down in front of her, and looked her straight in the eyes. “I’d never ask you to beg. That’s not what I want. If you want us to share a bed, then we’ll share a bed. If one day you feel like making love, then we’ll make love. But you’re not ready for that. You need to trust me, and we’re not there yet.”

Emboldened, she reached out, grateful when he grabbed her hand. “I’d say I’ve made lots of strides in the trust department. I’m asking you to trust me. Know that I’m not asking you to my bed without consideration. I’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Remy, you proposed to me four weeks after meeting me.”

“I think fast on my feet.” She inclined her head, a bubble of happiness rising in her chest. “When I want something, I go for it. I wanted you. I wanted what we could have together. Let’s do this. Let’s make this work.”

“Are you sure about this?”

The hesitation in his voice ate at her. “I am.”

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