‘I know, but…’ She wanted it to be him she shared al those things with—the difficulties and the joys of adjusting to a new baby.
He’d loved a child once. Didn’t it mean he could love another one?
‘But?’
‘I know al those things, but it doesn’t make the fear go away. I…I mean, the thought of the labour terrifies me.’ She gulped when she realized what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to reveal quite so much.
Turbulence raged in those dark eyes of his. ‘Then why are you going through it?’
‘Because the hope is greater than the fear.’
Something fluttered in her stomach—like a hiccup
—only it didn’t come from her.
‘What is it?’ Alex barked when she held herself suddenly stiff, al his energy focused on her. It almost threw her concentration. She loved watching his muscles bunch like that, his eyes narrow in readiness.
‘Hold on…’ She held up a hand. There! It happened again.
‘Oh, Alex, look!’ She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach.
‘What am I—?’
She pressed his fingers more firmly to the spot where the hiccup feeling grew. ‘Can you feel that?’
Wonder fil ed her.
‘What is it?’ He frowned. ‘Should I take you to the clinic?’
She laughed for the sheer joy of it. ‘That’s the baby, Alex. That’s the baby kicking.’
For a moment she thought he meant to pul his hand away but, almost as if he couldn’t help it, his hand away but, almost as if he couldn’t help it, his fingers spread across her bel y and gently pressed against her, sending darts of warmth shooting through her. ‘The baby?’ he whispered, almost as if he were afraid of waking it up.
‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded. ‘Isn’t it amazing?’
‘Yes.’ Then he frowned. ‘Does it hurt?’
He would’ve pul ed his hand away only she laid her hand on top of it to keep it there, to maintain this tenuous three-way connection—him, her and their baby. ‘Not a bit. It feels…wonderful! I’ve been dying for this moment.’ Her grin must stretch al the way across the channel to Forster.
His eyes widened. ‘This is the first time?’
She couldn’t get the grin off her face. ‘The very first time.’
Alex’s wonder made him look younger. The grooves either side of his mouth eased, the creases around his eyes relaxed and the darkness in his irises abated, his lips tilted up at the corners, and it al made Kit catch her breath.
Beneath her hand, his hand tensed. She dropped her gaze to stare at their two hands. Neither one of them moved, and in less than a heartbeat desire licked along her veins. She wanted to lift her gaze and memorize every line and feature of his face, the texture of his skin, while she could. Here on her rock.
So she could have this memory for ever.
She didn’t need to look up to do that, though. His every feature was already branded on her brain. She knew that dark stubble peppered his jaw. Alex needed to shave every day, but he’d skipped that chore this morning, eager to get started on the painting instead. Her palm itched to sample that roughness, her tongue burned to trace it, to taste it…
to tease him.
Today he looked more like a disreputable pirate than a civilised businessman and a thril coursed through her at the danger she sensed simmering just beneath the surface.
Final y obeying the silent command she sensed in him, she lifted her gaze to his. At the edge of his right eyebrow was a tiny nick, as if he’d once had a stitch there. She’d always meant to ask him about it, but her breath came in shal ow gulps and her pulse had gone so erratic she didn’t trust her voice not to give her away.
His eyes burned dark and hot as they travel ed over her, and her soul sang at the possessiveness that transformed his features. No longer afraid of revealing her desire for him, she lowered her gaze to his lips. Need, hunger, thirst al speared into her. Her lips parted. Her eyes searched out his again, pleading with him to sate her need. If she couldn’t taste him just one more time she thought she might die.
Something midway between a groan and a growl emerged from his throat. His hand tightened on her stomach. Her hand tightened over his. Yes! Oh, please, yes!
Stil Alex held back, his eyes devouring her face as if he was picturing in vivid detail every caress he meant to place there. He didn’t lift his hand from her abdomen and it felt like a promise. His fingers splayed, sending darts of need right into the core of her, making her tremble with the intensity of her desire.
His other hand came up to cup her face, his thumb traced the outline of her bottom lip, dipped into the moistness of her mouth, traced her lips again, moved back and forth over them as if to sensitize them to the utmost limit of their endurance before taking her to the next level with his lips and mouth and tongue.
