Page 80 of Conail

She spared him a glance. "Really? That's the best you can do?"

He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "Trying to be helpful. I love you."

"You'd better."

They both continued to stare at the sleeping baby for a few minutes more, and then he nudged her gently but firmly out of the room.

Their bedroom was bathed in moonlight streaming through the treated glass, allowing them to move about without the aid of the lamp. She was already dressed for bed. Climbing in, she watched as he undressed and came to join her.

"You smell of citrus," she murmured as she snuggled against his lean body.

"I had to take a shower at the office." Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her forehead.

"Should I be concerned?"

His gray-green eyes twinkled with humor, something she was still trying to get used to.

"You should. I had to go out to several farms to do a demonstration of the new tilling machine, including your parents' place. Suffice it to say that it was not child's play. I think your brother and I are finally seeing eye to eye."

"Meaning that you two are not ready to come to blows?"

He grinned at her. "Something like that. We're mature adults with wives and children. At least, he's about to be a father. We have examples to set." He turned his head to face her, eyes wandering over her face. Motherhood had done little to change the shape but had somewhat added a distinct glow to her complexion. She was letting her hair grow, and the healthy dark curls rioted over her forehead and covered her ears. To him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and she humbled him.

Flicking a finger down her nose, he felt the familiar emotions rushing through his body. "I thought I had it all before with Michelle," he began quietly. "We sort of drifted into a relationship, and we had things in common -- the theater, galleries, and she loved the classics, including a good book and Beethoven." His eyes were on hers, but there was an expression in them that told her he had drifted to the past.

"We could talk about anything. I was intrigued by her beauty and her mind." He trailed his fingers up and down her arm gently. "She was the real thing, or so I thought. I was accustomed to women being attracted to who I am and what I represented." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "She seemed different, and I fell for it. Was giddy with it." He looked away for a few secondsbefore coming back to her. "If you don't want to hear, just tell me."

"No." She shook her head, one hand tangled in the dark hairs on his chest. "I don't want to hear it, but I need to. No secrets, no hidden pains. I already told you of my past and what I went through."

"You have, yes. And I had to stop myself from finding that bastard and rearranging his bloody face."

She smiled as she remembered his outrage for her.

"Then you know how I feel every time I see that bitch who put you through all you went through." She touched the strong chin and trailed her finger through the dent there. "But I want to thank her for messing up so badly. I have you."

His fingers clamped on her chin as he lifted her face for his kiss. Deep, drugging, and thoroughly potent. Within minutes they completely forgot what they were talking about. Staggeredas usual, he lifted his mouth from hers. Drawing back, he took several deep breaths. "When?" he rasped, hating himself for asking.

"Another week." She buried her face on his chest and tried to gather her composure. Her breasts already straining and filled with milk for her son were on the verge of exploding, the nipples aching. "I can't stand it," she whispered.

"Christ!" Immediately contrite, he wrapped his arms around her. "Maybe we should sleep in separate bedrooms until--"

"Don't you dare!" She blew out a laugh as she held him tight. "We'll get through it."

He was forced to take another couple of minutes to slow his heart rate down and steady himself. When he did, he let go of her, belatedly realizing that his fingers were digging into her flesh. Blowing out a breath, he kissed her forehead.

"It was never like this with her -- with anyone," he confessed. "I was contented with what was, never dreaming there was more." Tilting her chin up, he shook his head. "I never--" He swallowed the sudden lump forming in his throat. "Darling, I love you so damn much. You have given me the world and beyond, and there's nothing I would not do for you."

Her hands cupped his face, and she felt the tears forming at the backs of her eyes. "I want another child. As soon as we're able, I want us to make another baby."

"Anything but that." He started to withdraw, the tenseness covering his face.

But she held on, a determined look on her own face. "I was originally a surrogate. You paid me for the service, and I--"

"You gave me back the damn money," he reminded her tersely. "Every cent of it, even when I objected. So, there's no arrangement and hasn't been one since I touched you." His hands clamped around her wrists. "You went through living hell carrying our son, and I am not going through it again. The answer is no. Our son is going to be an only child."

"Conail--"

"Enough."

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