Page 52 of Tristan’s Temptation

He wasn’t sure whose cries they were. Maybe they came from both of them.

He didn’t care.

He was complete. Exhausted. Drained.

He dropped his head onto her shoulder, panting like a man just finishing a marathon. And then, when he could move, he pulled his penis from her still-twitching cavern, rolled over to her side and pulled her into his arms.

It was then he noticed the elephant in the room, there on the pillow, staring at him. A whimsical creation of artfully folded towels holding a fresh flower in his trunk.

Tristan could barely hold back his laugh.

This was going to be an amazing weekend, he was sure of it. One he’d remember for the rest of his life.

The next morning he awoke, all warm and wrapped around her. He could tell by the movement of the boat that they’d docked. The chatter of the passengers disembarking and heading off for their day tours and trips wafted up through the window. He was glad he and Shannon had planned nothing. He snuggled deeper into their cocoon and pulled her closer, taking great pleasure in the feel of her soft skin against his.

She stirred and something, that wild, lustful beast inside him, stirred as well.

“Good morning.” He loved looking into her eyes first thing in the morning.

It was a wonderful way to start a day.

She smiled. It was a shy offering and he loved that too. “Good morning.”

“How did you sleep?”

A strand of her hair, an adorable tousled corkscrew curl, flopped onto her face and he brushed it away, taking the opportunity to stroke her cheek.

“Mmm.” She tucked her nose into the crook of his neck and kissed him. He shivered.

Yep. Definitely stirring.

But there was another hunger as well. His stomach growled plaintively and they both laughed. “Are you hungry? We can order breakfast in.”

She smiled up at him and opened her mouth to respond. Then her eyes flew wide. “Oh.” She pulled off the covers—exposing a tantalizing display of creamy skin—and put a hand to her belly. “Oh!”

“What is it?”

She didn’t answer. She quickly untangled herself from him, leapt from the bed and sprinted for the bathroom.

The ensuing sounds made it pretty clear to him there would be no breakfast in bed in the near future. If at all.

“Do you think you’re seasick?”

Shannon glanced up from her plate, where she was diligently drawing circles in the scrambled eggs with her fork. Tristan’s expression was dark, concerned.

How mortifying!

Of all the times to be ill.

She had retched so…wretchedly. He’d been wonderful, holding back her hair and telling her it was going to be all right. But how in heaven’s name would he ever want to be intimate with her again after seeing that? She scanned the informal dining room, mentally logging all the potential places she could throw up again should the feeling return.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying that. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

She pushed her plate away. Really, she could bear the sulfurous smell of the eggs no longer. Which was odd. She loved eggs.

“So, do you think you’re seasick?” he repeated. She wished she could smooth the worry from his brow.