Page 53 of Things We Do for Love and Science
She was exactly where she needed to be. “Gabriel, you’ll have to take the lead tonight. I’m too bloody exhausted to do much.”
He loosened his hold on her so he could look into her eyes. “Will we leave it today if you don’t feel like it?”
“I always feel like it with you.” she said simply, because, well, it was true. She stepped away from him to take off her jumper and shirt but paused mid-motion. “Unless you don’t...”
He wordlessly helped her out of her top, took her hand, and led her along the corridor to his bedroom. She dropped on his bed, stretched, and yawned. He brushed his cheek against hers, and the heat of his body softened her, making her very bones hum with contentment.
“So quick and no fuss then?” he mumbled into her hair.
“Whichever way you want me, baby.” She closed her eyes, already light-headed with anticipation.
He laughed and, one by one, removed the pins from her hair, placing them on his bedside cabinet. “I think we’ll find a way that suits us both tonight.”
Afterward, she sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. “Where did I put my bra?”
He watched her with amusement. “You can stay the night, you know. I promise I won’t propose marriage in the morning.”
“Ahhh, what a great idea.” She sank back into the pillows and curled her body around his. “It’s going to be awfully hard to wean myself off you,” she mumbled, already half asleep.
~ * ~
Delia rubbed her eyesbefore concentrating once more on the petri dish under her microscope. Last night, she’d slept deliciously well in Garbiel’s bed but had to race home in the early morning to get ready for a day in the lab.
A slight panic still quivered through her cells. Staying overnight with a man wasn’t something she did. Ever.
She rolled her shoulders to release the tension in her trapezius. All was well, because Gabriel wasn’t any man. He was a friend she could trust, unreservedly, and with a little bit of luck, they’d soon be co-parents.
“Lunchtime,” Sandra bellowed from the other side of the workbench.
Delia glanced at her watch.One o’clock already.Where had the morning gone? “Give me ten minutes so I can clear this away.”
“Yes, hurry, I’m hungry verging on hangry.” Sandra flapped her hands.
They joined the lunch queue and picked up a tray each. The place smelled of gloopy, salty, overcooked food, but Delia was ravenous, and anything edible would do.
Sandra clutched the empty tray to her chest like a shield. “Looks like Bavaria is going to happen.”
“Oh, you got the job? Congrats.” Delia clamped the tray to her side and hugged her friend with her free arm. “You never told me.”
Sandra shook her head. “I haven’t gotten confirmation yet, but I’m in the final round of interviews. I’ll fly to Munich next Wednesday. They wouldn’t invite me if I didn’t stand a good chance of getting the post. It fits well with my area of research. I’m bloody perfect for the job.”
Delia hung her head in a sudden rush of sadness and released her friend. “Of course, you’ll get it, and I’m happy for you, but I’d be lying if I said I won’t miss you. A lot.”
This time Sandra was the one to give her a one-armed hug. “Promise me we’ll stay in touch. I mean it.” She lowered her voice to a near-whisper. “I want to come over once you have your baby with the earl...”
Delia frowned, but since there were no familiar faces within earshot, she was happy to discuss the sensitive topic. “That could take a while. I’m not even pregnant yet and not for lack of trying.”
Sandra nudged her in the ribs. “I can already picture you standing on the stairs of that big house, the lady of the manor.”
Delia lifted her index finger. “Careful, Sandra, that type of comment is strictly John Winter territory.”
When she replied, Sandra’s voice was serious. “You really helped me find my feet in the UK. I hope you know that.”
Delia waved a hand. “You’re giving me too much credit. I’ve no doubt your sheer scientific brilliance would have convinced John Winter all on its own.”
“I don’t just mean workwise. It’s great that I can be myself around you and don’t have to sand off my edges to get through the simplest interaction.” Sandra held out a flat palm. “All this ‘would you,’ ‘could you possibly,’ ‘would it be okay if’ drives me mad. I mean, people, get to the point.”
Delia suppressed an explosive bout of laughter with limited success. “I remember the early days when everything you said sounded like a command.”
