she informed me we were pregnant, having only expanded in size, not diminished.
A small foot nudges my palm, making a horror movie image out of Lucinda's bare skin where I lift her night shirt up to see. Ah, one of my children will be a dare devil. I think perhaps the boy. But given Lucinda's nature, it may well end up being the girl. A smile spreads across my lips at the unexpected excitement I feel at getting to know their personalities soon.
Lucinda leans her body into me, her head heavy on my shoulder.
"I feel like a hippopotamus," she declares, and I swear for a second I stop breathing. Then remind myself that Lucinda is nothing if not vocal when she dips inside my head and sees something she does not like. If she knew my momentary lapse in judgement earlier had involved images of a hippopotamus, she would surely have let her ire be known.
"Of course not," I reassure her. "You are delightful."
"Delightful?"
"Delicious," I correct, nuzzling my face into the curve of her neck. At least she smells the same. Candied apples and sunshine, honey and Spring.
"I don't feel delicious," she advises and my heart squeezes with the weight of self doubt she carries in her tone.
"You appear more beautiful to me with every single day," I murmur, my fangs slipping out uninvited; being near her enough to cause the involuntary reaction. Hearing her despondency making the desire to protect her even more fierce.
"So, when the twins arrive and I go back to being me again you'll miss the belly?"
Ah. How does one answer that? Is this a trick question?
I settle for, "I will love you no matter your size."
She pushes away from my hold and rises with surprising grace. Anger clearly making her more supple than her frame should allow. I lean back on my outstretched arms and take a slow, intimate perusal of her body. Yes, any way I can get her, I will take.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?" I notice my voice is a seductive purr.
"Like you want to eat me all up."
"What is wrong with that? I always want you."
Her delicate fisted hands move to her hips, which reminds her she's perhaps a little wider in that region than before. The fingers unclench and she slowly removes them from their perch, a look of utter dejection gracing her face.
I am not sure what to say to reassure her. This is not the Lucinda I am used to. When I look at her, I see the strong, independent, courageous woman I have always seen. The sexy, confident, alluring hunter she was the first day I watched her handle a stake. I see the mother of my children. The love of my life. The very air I breathe. The very blood that fuels my veins. She is everything to me. And not once when I look at her do I see anything other than perfection.
A small amused smile curves the corner of those kissable lips, a soft pink blush rising over her cheeks.
"Well, then," she husks, and I am instantly ready. "I suppose I'll just have to ignore the hormones then."
I blink. Did I project those thoughts?
"Loud and clear," she murmurs, turning towards the bathroom. Before I have a chance to feel anything other than relief she hadn't seen my earlier thoughts, she throws over her shoulder, making me forget everything else but her and yes! "I'm having a shower, wanna scrub my back?"
I am on her in a split second, my lips trailing down her neck and across her shoulder. Mon Dieu , I love this woman. My hands slip around her torso to find her breasts, making sure my touch is gentle. She feels so much more right now, I have to ease her into this. A moan escapes her lips as we come to stop in front of the oversized shower. I am thankful again for the premier suite in the hotel we have commandeered. The shower stall large enough to house several pregnant Lucindas, should the world turn into my most fervent dream.
"Now that's just whacked, Michel," she says, breaking into my thoughts of what more than one Lucinda could accomplish in the confines of a bathroom.
I can't help it, the laughter
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