WidowsWickedWish by Lynne Barron Page B

into the bed, her head cuddling the pillow, until with another soft sigh,
she lay still.
    Jack crawled in beside her, matching his chest to her back,
curling his legs beneath her bottom, and wrapping his arm over her waist.
    “This is nice,” she murmured.
    “Spooning?” he asked, nuzzling her nape.
    “Spooning,” she repeated, her voice little more than a soft
breath.
    “Haven’t you ever spooned before?” he asked before the truth
hit him. “Did Palmerton never spend the night in your bed?”
    “I never thought to ask him to.”
    Jack pulled her tight against him. “When we’re married
you’ll never need to ask.”
    He waited with breath held for her response before leaning
over her to see her eyes closed and a soft smile drifting around her lips. He
studied her profile, watched the play of firelight drift over her flushed skin,
watched her lashes flutter, the long dark hairs casting shadows over her
cheeks. She blew a soft contented breath, her lips puckering for a moment
before her mouth fell open and the tip of her tongue came out to delicately trail
across her lower lip. He felt her soft inhalation, felt her back expand against
his chest, felt her breath drift over his arm when she exhaled.
    Jack lay his head upon the pillow next to hers, his lips
resting against the soft skin and silken hair at her nape, and timed his
breaths to hers, until his eyes drifted closed and sleep took him.

Chapter Nine
     
    “I’m not giving up, you know.” Jack stared down into
Olivia’s upturned face wanting to be certain she understood him.
    “Oh, Jack,” she replied with a chuckle. “I’ve told you that
you needn’t wed me to bed me.”
    Jack shook his head. “Cheeky girl.”
    “You like me cheeky.”
    It was true. His perfect regal lady was surprisingly cheeky.
The things she said.
    They had spent three days and two nights together and she
had continually surprised him with her saucy mouth and honest curiosity.
    Christ, the things she said, the irreverent questions she
asked, the uninhibited way she’d taken to his lovemaking. It about knocked him
sideways just thinking about all the ways he’d divested her of her innocence
and rewarded her curiosity. And all the ways that lay ahead.
    “You’ll be in London by mid-March?” he asked.
    “Or early April,” she replied.
    They stood together in the circular drive before Idyllwild
Cottage. Mary, Molly and Tom had already made their goodbyes and disappeared
into the house, taking Charlie with them. Fanny was standing with Justine
giving her last-minute instructions on just what to tell her Aunt Beatrice when
the jerseys, scarves and mittens were delivered.
    “I won’t give you up,” Jack promised.
    “Nobody is asking you to,” Olivia said, her eyes bright in
the morning sun.
    Jack looked over at their children, assured himself they
were paying their parents no mind, and leaned down to press a hard kiss upon
her waiting lips.
    “Be careful,” she murmured against his mouth.
    “You too.”
    “It’s only a month or two, three at the most,” she reminded
him.
    “I’ll have the marriage settlement prepared and waiting,” he
whispered.
    “Oh Jack, don’t you dare.”
    “All that will be lacking is your signature.”
    “I won’t sign.”
    “You might be carrying my child,” he told her even as he
sent up a prayer that it was true.
    “I’m not,” Olivia disentangled her hands from around his
neck.
    “You could be,” he answered. “We took no precautions.”
    “Jack, I am not carrying your child,” she told him firmly.
    “If you are, you’ll marry me.”
    Olivia looked away, her eyes sweeping the countryside, a
frown puckering her forehead and pulling at her lips.
    “Olivia?” he said when it seemed she would not agree.
    “If I am carrying your child, I will marry you,” she finally
said without looking at him.
    “As I said, I will have the marriage settlements drawn up
and waiting. Just in case you are wrong.”
    “You are