Page 179 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

‘You’re my best girl, aren’t you, princess?’ he whispered to their child, who was already fast asleep.

Mel felt a tiny spike of jealousy, followed by a wave of embarrassment—and consternation.

Seriously?She was becoming jealous of her own daughter now? This situation was getting ridiculous.

Time to stop worrying and take charge, Mel.

Pushing the doubts to one side, she cleared her throat. ‘I certainly hope she’s not youronlybest girl,’ she said.

Rene straightened and swung round, giving her a full frontal of that magnificent chest—which she had been reduced to ogling every night when he came in to get his daughter.

‘Melody?’ he said, startled.

But then his face flushed and his gaze swept down, flaring with fierce passion. And suddenly she didn’t feel ridiculous any more.

She could feel his hunger and need raking over her skin like a physical caress, even as the front of his pyjama bottoms swelled.

Her heart rejoiced. Along with her clitoris.

She’d been an idiot. Of course he still wanted her. Of course he still needed her. His reluctance to touch her had probably all been part of the ‘not overtaxing her’ agenda that she intended to have words with him about…Later.

He swore softly as he strode towards her. He clasped her hips, grasping fistfuls of the sheer fabric.

‘Where the hell did you get this?’ he hissed, clearly trying not to wake their sleeping baby despite the extreme provocation. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’ he finished, but he didn’t sound mad, he sounded desperate, his voice so husky it made her whole body throb.

She grinned, delighted with them both.

‘Isabelle. It’s a freebie from a new designer,’ she explained. ‘But fair warning, I may very well have to killyoumyself if you don’t make love to me right this instant.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, his eyes wild but his tone cautious.

‘Absolutely.’

He groaned as he dragged her into his arms, the already huge erection prodding her belly.

‘I’m going to have to thank Isabelle,’ he muttered before devouring the pulse point in her neck.

‘Thank her later,’ she said, boosting herself into his arms—so needy and desperate already herself she was scared she would explode before he even got inside her.

But as he carried her into their bedroom—and proceeded to show her exactly how much he still wanted her with a force and fury that excited her beyond measure—it occurred to her she was going to have to buy Isabelle a new negligee, because this one was already toast.

* * *

Hours later, as Mel lay, sweaty, sated and deliciously sore, and gazed at the winter moon shining through the mullioned windows, she felt the slow, steady beat of her husband’s heart against her back. He slept peacefully, his face pressed to her hair, his strong arms holding her securely.

Their baby girl would wake them both up in a couple of hours. Her breasts already felt full of milk, even if her nipples were pleasantly tender now from her husband’s lips instead of their daughter’s.

But as she fell into a deep sleep she knew she would dream of him holding her, loving her, fiercely and without regret. And—while she suspected that she and Rene would always butt heads, because they were both such strong-willed people—she made herself a solemn promise never to doubt him, or herself, or the strength and constancy of their love ever again.

* * * * *

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