by Debby Conrad
“No, now.” She ducked under his arm and made her way across the room. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to say this without hurting your feelings, but …”
Luke raised his brows.
“I don’t want to sleep with you.”
Now, why didn’t that surprise him? Although he knew he could change her mind in a matter of minutes. A few thorough kisses and she was his. But he wanted to hear her reasons. Or at least what she thought were her reasons.
He pretended to be wounded by her admission. And she hurried on. “It’s not that your lovemaking technique isn’t … unique.” Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips, driving him crazy with need for her. He wished she’d hurry with her explanation so he could kiss her ripe mouth.
“Unique,” he mocked her.
“I meant that in a good way.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, it’s just that I don’t think sleeping together would be right,” she said without much conviction.
“Well that makes a whole hell of a lot of sense.” He took a step toward her. “We’ve already made love, right?” She nodded and he took another step closer. “And we’re married, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“And it’s our honeymoon night.” He moved in for the kill.
“Yes, I know that but—”
He reached for her hand, brought it to his fly. He heard her quick little gasp of pleasure when she felt his arousal. “And I have this problem, Princess.”
She lightly ran her fingers along the length of him, teasing and driving him wild. Her breath fanned the side of his cheek. “What kind of problem?”
“My problem is that I have a very hard time looking at you and not touching you.” He planted a tiny kiss on her forehead, then moved to her eyelids. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I want you so badly I ache.” He kissed her lips softly, then crushed his mouth to hers. Gently, he aroused her nipples through her suit jacket until he felt her relax against him. He pulled his mouth away and looked down at her. “Now, tell me again why we shouldn’t sleep together.”
If she told him, he couldn’t make out her words beneath his kiss. Just as he’d thought. Putty in his hands. After several more mouthwatering, toe-curling kisses, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NEITHER OF THEM HAD bothered to fully undress. Things had escalated quickly and gotten out of control as soon as they’d reached the bedroom. But this time Luke wanted to inspect every inch of her while she was naked. And he wanted to start with her breasts.
“Why don’t we get rid of some of this stuff?” he suggested, tugging at the hem of her skirt, which was currently gathered around her waist.
“What stuff?” she murmured. Her warm breath tickled his neck when she spoke. Her body felt limp and lifeless except for the pounding of her heart against his chest. She laid sprawled half on top of him, half on the bed, her beautiful, expensive clothing in disarray. Her silky, red curls fanned across his arm, shoulder and chest.
Brushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her on the forehead. “C’mon, sleepyhead. Wake up.”
“Do we have to?” She lifted her head an inch as if she were getting up, then she apparently changed her mind and dropped it hard on his chest. “You wore me out.”
He smiled satisfactorily. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Groaning, she said. “Great. Like you need another boost to that big ego of yours.”
“Admit it. I’m the best lover you’ve ever had.”
She yawned loudly. “Well, maybe I’ll think about upgrading your lovemaking status from not half bad in bed to pretty good in bed.”
He ran his fingers up and down her bare arm, loving the feel of her soft skin. “Just pretty good, huh? What do I have to do for you to upgrade me to super stud?”
She laughed softly. “I’ll have to think about that.” With her finger, she traced a pattern around his navel. He sucked in his breath when her knuckles brushed his erection. And after the third time it happened, he flipped her over on her back and pinned her hands to her sides.
“Princess, you know better than to play with fire.” With his knee, he nudged her thighs apart. Leaning down he placed a tender open-mouthed kiss on her belly, then on the inside of each of her thighs.
Breathing heavily, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. “I thought you wanted to get naked.”
“I want you to get naked,” he said, raking his eyes over her mangled camisole and skirt. Her jacket lay in a wrinkled heap on the floor. Slowly, he let his gaze fall seductively to the thatch of moist red curls between her legs.
“But that can wait,” he said. “This can’t.” He pushed into her in one hard, swift move and buried himself to the hilt. She was so tight and hot and wet. His hips began a frantic rhythm, and she matched his urgency with her own lusty unsatiated needs. As he aroused her passion, his own grew stronger. It was a raw act of possession. She was his wife. And he loved her. Though he refrained from saying the words.
Rusty tossed her head from side to side. Her breath came in long, surrendering moans, urging him on.
When he finally emptied himself inside her, he collapsed on his side and dragged her up against him. Possessively, he ran his hand over her bare behind and pulled her closer. “How was that, Mrs. Galloway?” he asked in short choppy breaths.
“Hmmmm,” she sighed. “I’ll move you up another notch, if you promise to let me rest.”
“First, take off all your clothes. That way I can look at your naked body while you’re sleeping.” He wanted to see the changes the pregnancy had made to her body. He already knew her breasts were a little fuller, but he wanted to touch them, and taste them. He knew he’d have to be gentle—that her nipples were probably extremely sensitive—and he would be.
Luke helped her shed the rest of her clothing, then rid himself of his shirt and socks. Her waistline looked more rounded, slightly thicker. But in front her stomach was still flat. He tried to imagine it round and full with his baby. He hoped Rusty would nurse their child. He wanted to watch their infant child suckle her pink puckered nipples.
That was the thing he pictured as he drifted off to sleep, Rusty cradled in his arms.
The next morning, the first thing out of her mouth was, “If we have a boy, I’d like to name him after you and Sam. How about Lucas Samuel Galloway?”
Luke liked that. He liked it a lot. Smiling, he tucked her under his arm, and brought the sheet up over them both. “That sounds good. And if it’s a girl, how about Bambi or Candy?”
Her head shot up. “You can’t be serious.”
When Luke couldn’t contain his grin, she thumped him on the bare chest. “Ouch. What was that for?”
“For teasing me.”
“I wasn’t teasing. I’ve always loved those names.”
“You would,” she said, then her face lit up. “What about an old fashioned name like Margaret?”
Luke winced. “That’s the best you can do? Bambi’s an old fashioned kind of name, isn’t it?”
She laid her head back on his chest, ran her fingers across his collar bone and shoulders. “Fine. If that’s what you want. But first, picture the type of woman who would have a name like Bambi, and then tell me you want to brand your daughter that way.”
She definitely had a point. Guys would be chasing after his little girl like she was a dog in heat. And Candy might even be worse. No thanks. “Margaret has a nice ring to it.”
She lifted her head, smiled thoughtfully and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I knew you’d see it my way.” She sat straight up, tossed her hair over her shoulders, not bothering with the sheet which had slipped to her waist. “I’m famished. Were you thinking about ordering breakfast anytime soon?”
Luke let his eyes linger on her bare breasts. How the hell had he gotten so lucky? Rusty was his, all his. And in seven months she was going to have a baby. His
baby. He still couldn’t believe it. There was only one thing that would make this picture complete. And that was if she were head over heels in love with him. Which she wasn’t. But he wasn’t giving up on her so easily. They had time. They had the rest of their lives.
“Luke?”
“Come back here, Princess. Let me make love to you again, and then you can order a dozen different breakfasts. Since I know how you like to order food and play with it, rather than eat it.”
She had the decency to blush. “Let me guess. You thought of a position we haven’t tried yet.”
Gently, he pulled her down on top of him. “My wife, the rocket scientist. Now, where did I put those handcuffs?” At the startled look on her face, he threw his head back and howled. “Don’t worry, we won’t need them, because you’re not going anywhere, Mrs. Galloway. Not until I’m through with you.” Which he couldn’t imagine happening in the next hundred years.
Two weeks later, Luke came into the house with Jeremy in tow. Both of them were loaded down with paint cans, brushes and assorted supplies. “I found a helper.”
Rusty shut the back door behind them. “Luke, are you sure about this? Maybe we should reconsider and call a contractor.” They’d decided on yellow for the nursery. That way they’d be safe whether they had a boy or a girl. And she’d decided on the cutest teddy bear border, but that would have to be ordered yet.
“I can handle it. Trust me.”
“What about you, Jeremy? Have you ever painted before?”
“Well, no but—”
“He’s a quick study,” Luke interjected. “Hurry up, Jeremy. We need to get started before she changes her mind about the color. She’s already gone from primary colors, to aqua, to rainbow colors and finally pale yellow.”
“Aqua doesn’t sound bad,” Jeremy said, and Rusty began to have second thoughts.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Luke said sternly, pointing a finger at her. “You said yellow.” He lifted a can in the air. “I had this mixed special and we can’t return it. And I ordered that teddy bear border you wanted and it should be in next week.”
Yellow did sound nice, after all. Rusty smiled graciously. “Thank you, Luke.”
Luke sighed with relief. He hurried Jeremy up the stairs as she watched. About midway up, he stopped and turned around. “Rusty, if you really want the aqua,” he started.
She shook her head. “No, I definitely want the yellow.” When he disappeared around the corner, she whispered, “I think.”
“I look so fat!” Rusty said disgustedly to herself in the full- length mirror.
Luke knew enough about women to know that he was doomed. If he said she wasn’t fat, she’d accuse him of lying. If he agreed with her—and he’d be lying, of course, because she was not fat—she’d never forgive him.
“Rusty, you’re only three months pregnant. You can barely tell. You are not fat.” In fact, in that dress she took his breath away.
“Liar,” she accused.
He knew it. He blew out his breath a little too noisily.
Slowly, she turned around to face him. “This is a big night for me. You could be a little more compassionate.” With that, she tugged down the zipper of the black, satin gown and tossed it on the bed. “There’s going to be more than a thousand people there.”
“I know, that.” She’d been looking forward to this benefit dinner for weeks. “That’s why you’re nervous.” He walked forward and pulled her into his arms, careful not to mess up her expensive hair-do. She’d had it done on top of her head, with little spiral curls coming out at every which angle. He’d rather she wore it down, but he didn’t dare hurt her feelings by mentioning that fact.
“Are you sure I’m not fat?”
“Positive.” He ran his hands over the bare skin between her black, lacy bra and matching panties. He leaned into her and breathed in her perfume. “But if you don’t want to go tonight, we could always stay here and find something to occupy our time. Something naughty involving your sexy black underwear.”
“Sex! Is that all you ever think about?” she asked, trying to escape from his arms.
“Yes. Although, I haven’t heard you complain once in the past four weeks, Mrs. Galloway.” He nibbled at her neck, at the ticklish spot just beneath her earlobe.
She lifted her shoulder and laughed. “Stop that. You’re going to mess me up.”
“Hmmm,” he breathed against her ear. “That sounds like a plan. Kiss me.”
“No.” She tried to pull away again. “Luke,” she warned. “You’d faint if I told you how much I spent getting my hair done this afternoon. You don’t want to ruin it, do you?”
Luke stepped back, pretended to thoroughly inspect it. Then, with one quick movement, he reached behind her and pulled out a pin. The tiny spiral curls came tumbling down to cascade around her face and brush her shoulders. “Whoops,” he said.
“You did that on purpose,” she accused. “Now what am I going to do?”
“It looks gorgeous just like that.” He dropped the hairpin to the floor and closed the distance between them. “Now, I’m going to prove to you how desirable you are. Next we’re going to take a shower together. And then you’re going to put that beautiful dress you bought back on and drive me out of my mind again.”
“Do you like the dress?”
“I love the dress. And I can’t wait to see you in it, but first things first,” he said as he unclasped her black, lace bra and let it slide off her shoulders to the floor. “Now, hand over those lethal looking panties.”
“Did you have a nice time tonight?” Rusty asked softly, her head resting against his shoulder. They’d rented a limo for the charity event. On the drive home, she’d had a hard time keeping her eyes open. Luke could tell she was exhausted.
“Yes.” And he had. It hadn’t turned out to be the boring event he’d thought it was going to be. Not with Rusty in the spotlight most of the evening.
He’d never been more proud of her than tonight. All those people had given him looks of envy. As if they were wondering how a man with only a high school degree, and a prison record to boot, had ended up with someone like Rustina Anastasia Paris. Well, let them eat their hearts out. She was his. He planned to tell her tonight just how much she meant to him. That he loved her. And that he hoped someday she’d grow to love him, too.
But when they arrived home, she’d looked as if she were about to collapse. Luke had picked her up, carried her to the bedroom and undressed her for bed. He didn’t even make love to her. She didn’t have the strength or energy.
So, he thought, wrapping her in his arms and pulling the covers over their tired bodies, his news would have to wait until tomorrow.
The next morning after she’d showered and dressed, Rusty went in search of Luke. She found him in the nursery putting the crib together. From the doorway she watched him work. He was so in to the baby preparations. He’d already finished the painting and papering. The curtains were hung and the furniture in place. And they still had another six months to go.
He couldn’t go into town without bringing back a gift for the baby. Already the room was filled with more than a dozen stuffed animals, mostly furry teddy bears in assorted sizes and colors. And he’d picked up two pair of ice skates, one white and one black, and a child’s size hockey stick. Their child wouldn’t be able to skate for several years, but Luke insisted they needed to be prepared. Rather than argue with him, she’d laughed instead.
He hadn’t been lying about wanting this child. He talked about nothing else. Since their marriage, there hadn’t been a day that had gone by that he hadn’t inspected her body for signs of changes. He’d said he couldn’t wait for her belly to grow round and full like a watermelon.
At first, the idea of looking like a watermelon sounded so unattractive to her. But after seeing several women in various stages of pregnancy, she looked forward to seeing their baby grow, no matter what she looked like.
“Good morning,” she said, entering
the room.
“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. I was trying to be quiet.”
“No, you didn’t wake me. I have a doctor’s appointment at ten.”
Luke glanced at his watch and set the screwdriver aside. “Oh, you should have told me. Let me take a quick shower and I’ll go with you.”
“No need. I can drive. Besides, I want to stop in town and look at maternity clothes after my appointment.”
He looked torn between wanting to go with her and wanting to finish his project. He got up from the floor. “If you’re sure?”
She smiled. “I’m sure. Maybe I’ll call Becky and see if she wants to meet me for lunch afterward.”
“Okay,” he said. “But promise me you won’t speed.”
He was such a worry wart. “I promise.” The sport utility vehicle he’d bought for her looked more like a tank and drove like one too. She didn’t think she could speed in it even if she’d wanted to. Gone were the days of fast sports cars. Now she had a little life inside her to think about.
She’d been about to turn around and leave when he said, “Rusty, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for awhile now. And I realize this hardly seems like the place or time, but …” He hesitated, looked down at his boots, then back up at her face. “I love you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He’d looked so sincere that she’d almost believed him for a minute. Had almost thrown herself in his arms and told him she loved him, too. Until Sam’s words to Luke came back to haunt her.
“I want you to promise me that you’ll tell Rusty that you love her,” Sam had said. “Women like to hear that stuff.”
She tried to swallow. Tried to speak. But she couldn’t. All she could do was stare at him as if he’d slapped her. Why did he have to say it now? Why did he have ruin everything?
He watched her reaction, as if he were waiting for her to say something. But instead of saying anything at all, she slowly turned away from him and left.
Luke stood there with his heart on his sleeve. He’d thought about going after her, to ask her why she was so upset. But he couldn’t move. His body felt frozen in place. In fact, he didn’t move until he heard her car leave the driveway.
