Page 46 of The Trouble with a Dare

The words died in her throat. Oh, Lord above.

She did not know if he wore anything else beneath the covers, but his upper half was bare, the flickering candlelight playing lovingly over a hard terrain of sculpted muscle, a landscape of raw masculine beauty, powerful and virile, his chest furred with dark hair that disappeared in a narrow line beneath the sheets. Grace could only stare. The only other man she had seen in a state of undress had been beautiful, blonde, and elegant and strong, but their time together had been fraught and hurried and there had been no time to explore. Besides, he seemed a different creature altogether to this man, gold compared to steel. Yet she did not want those memories intruding here, and she thrust them away, wanting only to remember this moment, this man, and to savour the discovery of him, for he was magnificent.

“Will you come to me, little wren?”

A soft smile touched his mouth that made her feel at once fragile and so much stronger than she had ever been before. That was his gift, this generous man. His strength was never used to undermine or weaken her. He offered it only to shore her up, to make her as strong as he was.

Grace took a breath and got to her feet, tugging at the ties to her dressing gown with fingers that were suddenly clumsy. She let it fall to the floor, instead of folding it and setting it aside neatly as she usually would. Moving to the bedside table, she snuffed the candle, though it was not fully dark, for she had left the curtains a little open to admire the full moon. It streamed in now, turning his body from warm bronze in the candlelight to fine silver, but he was not cool to the touch when he reached for her, pulling her close. She gasped at the shock of his skin, which seemed to burn like a furnace against her body, blazing through the thin barrier of her nightgown. Somewhat to her relief, she discovered he still wore his smalls, and made no move to touch her more intimately, seemingly content to do as he had asked, and hold her close.

She relaxed into his embrace, and he shifted about, arranging her and the sheets to his satisfaction until he held her in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder.

“This is nice,” she ventured, engulfed in the delicious heat and strength of him.

He gave a low chuckle. “This is an exquisite pleasure and far more than merely nice, if you ask me.”

She tilted her head awkwardly to stare up at him.

“Yes,” she agreed, wondering what other pleasures he might show her.

He stared down at her, and when he spoke his voice was a husky rasp of sound that made her shiver. “Ah, Grace. Don’t look at me like that, for I promised myself I’d ask no more than this. Not until after the baby is born. You’ll make it a hard promise to keep, love.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps we don’t have to be so dreadfully strict about it.”

He shifted then, turning onto his side, so their faces were level. “Can I kiss you, then?”

Grace nodded, barely able to hear her own thoughts over the hammering of her heart, and it crashed about behind her ribs.

He reached for her, pulling her close, and Grace dared to put her hands against the thick quilting of muscle on his chest, savouring the feel of silky skin and wiry hair that tangled about her fingers, and always the heat of him, like being warmed by a fire.

“Nothing you don’t want. Not ever,” he promised, nuzzling the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Tell me no and I’ll heed you, and I won’t be cross, Grace.” He paused to lift her chin, his eyes glinting in the silver darkness, watching her.

“I understand,” she said, realising he was waiting for an answer.

“You understand the words, love, but do you believe them? Do you believe me?”

She nodded then. “Yes, Sterling, I trust you. I trust you to tell me the truth, always.”

He kissed her then, his lips gently seeking, asking, until she answered by giving everything he asked and demanding more, far more. She heated in his arms, as if his warmth moved into her veins, elevating her temperature, lighting fires inside her, until she grew hot, burning for him. He gentled her, teaching her patience, his touch unhurried, his hands careful, keeping to her waist and her back. The kiss went on and on, leisurely, as if he was content to kiss her forever. so tenderly it made her heart ache, even as she yearned for more. She squirmed in his arms, pressing closer, inviting him to do as he wanted.

Sterling pulled away, his breathing uneven. “Perhaps we’d best leave it there,” he said. “I promised to court you, remember? For us to take our time.”

Grace fidgeted a little in his arms, uncertain she wanted him to take his time, but she had rushed before and almost ruined her life in doing so. Perhaps he was right, and they ought to savour this time together. So she nodded, though regretfully, watching him in the darkness. A quick, flurrying sensation in her belly scattered any other thought.

“Oh,” she said, gasping, a hand going to cover the place where she had felt the movement.

“Grace?” he said in alarm, lifting his head.

“It… It moved,” she said in wonder. “I have felt little tickles of sensation the past week or so but… but that was strong.”

He grinned at her, white teeth discernible in the moonlight. “She is strong, then, like her mother.”

She stared at him, wondering at this kind, generous man who would love her unborn child when it was none of his blood. For she could see the pleasure in his expression, something warm and true that could not be feigned.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t. I would like a pretty girl, though, like her beautiful mama.”

“Oh, Sterling,” she sighed, and reached for his hand, guiding it to her stomach and pressing it firmly against her. “Here, little one. This man is your father, and you are the luckiest child in the whole wide world to have him. We both are,” she added softly as she looked back to find his eyes shining too brightly.