Page 66 of Conail

He kept glancing over at her and knew the instant she fell asleep. With one hand on the wheel as he negotiated the surprisingly sparse traffic, he used the other to touch her.

He wanted to make sure she wasn't a figment of his imagination, or he was not hallucinating. She had her hands folded on the bulge of her stomach and he felt his heart rapping against his ribs, hard. He knew she was having a boy, because he had received the report.

A son! He inhaled sharply as the knowledge filled him. The first time no longer mattered. It had taken him a while to come to that realization. He was completely over Michelle. And irrevocably and utterly in love with the woman next to him in the vehicle.

He had also decided that he was not going to spend another moment away from her. He wanted to marry her. This time he was going to do it right. First, he was going to have to convince her that he was sincere. He had mucked things up so badly before and hurt her in the process. There was no help for that now. He could not go back and undo the things he said to her. From this point on he could do his best to fix it.

He had no idea how he knew it, but it struck him that she would never step out on him.

Easing into the driveway of his apartment, he parked and sat there watching her sleep. Before he could wake her, she stirred and opened her eyes.

"We're here."

"At your place." She stifled a yawn. "I was tired."

Leaning over, he released her belt and inclined the seat.

"Wait." He instructed as he opened his door and came around to open hers.

Taking her gloved hand, he carefully guided her towards the entrance and towards the elevator.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked as he took her jacket and put it away along with his.

"No." She rubbed the small of her back absently and stretched out the kinks.

"Let's go upstairs." Taking her hand again, he led the way.

As soon as they were inside his bedroom, he walked over to the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. A fire was already burning in the hearth, casting a reddish golden glow over the room. A jolt went straight through her when he knelt and eased off her shoes. Putting them aside, he massaged her stockinged feet, his eyes on her face.

"How does that feel?"

"Uhm, better." The man had magic hands, she thought as he went for her arches.

Those magic hands wandered up to her calves and lingered there, working the tight knots of tension that had gathered. With a contented sigh, she leaned back and closed her eyes in delight.

"Don't stop."

"I won't."

He spent a few minutes there until she was as fluid as water.

"I hurt you." His deep voice was contrite and had her eyes flying open.

Memories of their last argument had her chin lifting. "You did."

He nodded and continued to work on her legs. "I can only promise never to speak to you like that again." He knelt between her thighs and cupped her belly. His eyes were still holding hers and the expression in them had her bones melting, like wax facing unrelenting heat. She could not find her breath.

"I spent a miserable week paying for my mistake." His heart overflowed when he felt the hectic movement of his son insideher womb. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tried again. "I was frightened."

"Why?" She whispered. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she needed more. He had hurt her to the very core of her, and she could not forget that, not yet.

"I have never felt this way before." His hands moved to cup her face. "After what happened with Michelle, I closed myself off and swore that I would never allow another person to get that close again. You took me by surprise. I was blindsided. When I made love to you, I knew it was like nothing I had ever experienced before, and I panicked."

"Do you think you hold the monopoly on heartbreak?" She asked him softly. "The only other relationship I had ever been in--" She nodded as his eyes narrowed. "Yes, Conail, there was only one other and then you. He used me to get ahead and broke my heart and ended up shattering my self-esteem." She lifted her hands to clasp his thick wrists, her expression luminous. "I fell in love with you when you knelt behind me and held me while I was puking my guts out. I knew it was hopeless, but that did not matter one bit. I was also afraid, but I hoped that by some miracle, you would feel the same way."

"I did. I do." His fingers were unsteady. "When I saw you kneeling there, something stirred inside me, and I knew I wanted to be there for you." He brushed his lips over hers, needing the contact.

He needed her naked and in his arms with him buried deep inside her, but he supposed that would have to wait for a little while longer. He had to clear things up. "I fought it." He nibbled and sipped at her mouth and felt as if he was drowning. He went under happily. "The more time I spent with you, the more I realized that it was getting out of hand." Drawing a long breath, he tried to steady himself. The fire was already raging inside his body, and he was as hard as steel and equally unbending.

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