notch. Closing her eyes, she automatically angled her head, giving his mouth more access to her throat. A delicate shiver coursed through her when he discovered a particularly sensitive spot and nibbled gently. Seemingly of their own accord, her hands fluttered upward, sliding into the hair at the back of his neck to keep him from pulling away.
“One kiss, Grace,” he whispered, undisguised need roughening his voice. “As man and wife.”
Her lips parted, but there was no forthcoming protest this time, just breathless anticipation for the pleasure of his tempting, insatiable kisses. His mouth returned to hers, putting a match to the sensual wild fire simmering between them.
The kiss he gave her was slow and deep, exciting and ravenous, and very thorough. He tasted like the chocolate cream pie Marie had served them after their meal, rich and sensuous and deliciously decadent.
Searing heat settled in the pit of her belly. As her husband, he took liberties she found too pleasurable to deny him, or herself. While his soft, warm lips kept hers occupied in a series of provocative, heady kisses, he skimmed a hand up her rib cage and filled his palm with her breast through her silk blouse and lacy bra, squeezing gently, then flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip. A tiny moan rumbled in her throat, startling her with the undertones of hunger and need it evoked.
She wanted Ford, but she didn’t want to want him!
He must have sensed her shift in mood, because he brought their kiss to an end. By the time he lifted his head, a satisfied smile curved his mouth. “ Now I feel married,” he said, a teasing light in his eyes.
And she felt dazed, and on the brink of surrendering to dangerous emotions. She glanced away, ashamed at her lack of control when it came to Ford.
His fingers touched her jaw in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”
She summoned a smile to match how weary she felt. “I’m just tired.”
His hands settled on the waistband of her skirt, his thumbs brushing along her slightly curved, firm belly, sending tingles skittering along the surface of her skin. “The baby?” he asked.
Slipping from his unnerving embrace, and away from his tempting touch, she rubbed her forehead. “It’s been a very long day, Ford.”
“Grace . . .” He let out a low, frustrated sigh. “I know we started off on the wrong foot, and I know you’re not happy with this situation, but I’m willing to make the best of our marriage. Will you agree to just try and compromise? For the sake of our child?”
She wanted to ask him if that kiss had been for the sake of their child, but bit back the petty remark. Her emotions and hormones were askew, her heart unsure of what she’d gotten herself into by marrying Ford—a man she’d known all her life, but a stranger she wasn’t quite sure she trusted nonetheless.
“I’d do anything for this baby,” she said, meaning every word, and giving him a silent promise to try and meet him halfway on marital issues. She grabbed her chemise, robe and toiletry bag. “I think I’ll take a nice warm shower, and turn in for the evening.”
He gave her a smile that was boyishly charming. “Would you like help scrubbing your back?”
That treacherous heat unfurled in her belly. “No, thank you.”
“Can’t blame a husband for asking, especially on his wedding night,” he said, backing toward the door. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be in my office down the hall working.”
Then he was gone, leaving Grace to spend her wedding night alone.
Chapter Six
“G ood morning.”
Grace turned from her task of making herself a second mug of hot tea to go with the toast she’d just ate, the greeting she’d been about to return dissolving on the tip of her tongue.
Her husband strode very deliberately across the kitchen’s hardwood floor toward her, giving her only a handful of seconds to register the fact that he’d just gotten out of the shower. His dark hair was damp and
“One kiss, Grace,” he whispered, undisguised need roughening his voice. “As man and wife.”
Her lips parted, but there was no forthcoming protest this time, just breathless anticipation for the pleasure of his tempting, insatiable kisses. His mouth returned to hers, putting a match to the sensual wild fire simmering between them.
The kiss he gave her was slow and deep, exciting and ravenous, and very thorough. He tasted like the chocolate cream pie Marie had served them after their meal, rich and sensuous and deliciously decadent.
Searing heat settled in the pit of her belly. As her husband, he took liberties she found too pleasurable to deny him, or herself. While his soft, warm lips kept hers occupied in a series of provocative, heady kisses, he skimmed a hand up her rib cage and filled his palm with her breast through her silk blouse and lacy bra, squeezing gently, then flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip. A tiny moan rumbled in her throat, startling her with the undertones of hunger and need it evoked.
She wanted Ford, but she didn’t want to want him!
He must have sensed her shift in mood, because he brought their kiss to an end. By the time he lifted his head, a satisfied smile curved his mouth. “ Now I feel married,” he said, a teasing light in his eyes.
And she felt dazed, and on the brink of surrendering to dangerous emotions. She glanced away, ashamed at her lack of control when it came to Ford.
His fingers touched her jaw in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”
She summoned a smile to match how weary she felt. “I’m just tired.”
His hands settled on the waistband of her skirt, his thumbs brushing along her slightly curved, firm belly, sending tingles skittering along the surface of her skin. “The baby?” he asked.
Slipping from his unnerving embrace, and away from his tempting touch, she rubbed her forehead. “It’s been a very long day, Ford.”
“Grace . . .” He let out a low, frustrated sigh. “I know we started off on the wrong foot, and I know you’re not happy with this situation, but I’m willing to make the best of our marriage. Will you agree to just try and compromise? For the sake of our child?”
She wanted to ask him if that kiss had been for the sake of their child, but bit back the petty remark. Her emotions and hormones were askew, her heart unsure of what she’d gotten herself into by marrying Ford—a man she’d known all her life, but a stranger she wasn’t quite sure she trusted nonetheless.
“I’d do anything for this baby,” she said, meaning every word, and giving him a silent promise to try and meet him halfway on marital issues. She grabbed her chemise, robe and toiletry bag. “I think I’ll take a nice warm shower, and turn in for the evening.”
He gave her a smile that was boyishly charming. “Would you like help scrubbing your back?”
That treacherous heat unfurled in her belly. “No, thank you.”
“Can’t blame a husband for asking, especially on his wedding night,” he said, backing toward the door. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be in my office down the hall working.”
Then he was gone, leaving Grace to spend her wedding night alone.
Chapter Six
“G ood morning.”
Grace turned from her task of making herself a second mug of hot tea to go with the toast she’d just ate, the greeting she’d been about to return dissolving on the tip of her tongue.
Her husband strode very deliberately across the kitchen’s hardwood floor toward her, giving her only a handful of seconds to register the fact that he’d just gotten out of the shower. His dark hair was damp and
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