At that, she lifted her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes.
“Hey…” Cursing himself, he put his arms around her and held her tightly. “I’m sorry. Come on.” He rubbed her back, the same way he had when he’d walked into Treats and found her. “It’ll be okay.”
This time, however, she didn’t melt in his arms, but remained stiff and unyielding. Putting a hand on his chest, she pushed herself back, and he dropped his arms. “Owen, I’m so glad you’re not mad. But…I have to tell you, I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to do.” Her posture suggested she thought that if he wasn’t mad before, he might be now.
Her words took a moment to register in his befuddled brain, but gradually they sunk in. She hadn’t decided whether she was going to keep the baby. And she might still leave.
Emotions whirled inside him—frustration, anger, helplessness, and love for this poor mixed-up girl. He wanted to drop to his knees and beg her to keep the baby, to stay with him and never leave, but that wouldn’t work. If anything, it would probably send her running in the opposite direction.
A part of him wanted to express his anger, to tell her it wasn’t right that he didn’t have a say in this, to demand that she listen to his point of view. But that wouldn’t work either. Being aggressive would only force her to retreat into her shell, and she’d probably leave. And being forceful wasn’t in his nature anyway.
She looked so tired she was almost swaying on her feet. He cleared his throat. “Okay. Look, it’s late, I’m a little bit drunk, and I think what we need is time. What do you want to do tonight? If you want to sleep in the spare room, I’ll understand.”
She nibbled her bottom lip, her eyes wary. “No, I’ll come to bed. If that’s okay with you.”
Relief flooded him. “Of course it’s okay. Skye, if you want to talk, I’ll talk. If you want to be quiet, that’s okay too.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you deserve it.” She looked so melancholy that he gave in to his urge to tell her how he felt. “I love you, you silly girl. I probably should have said it by now, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”
Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.
Smiling, he reached out and cupped her cheek. “I can’t stand here and say honestly that I’ll be completely impartial in this. I will try to honor your decision, but I think you already know how I feel about you, and that I want you to stay. I’d love to marry you, to live with you, and to be a father to this child. But I know how you feel about staying, and that you’re going to need time to think about it. You should know, though, that I’m here for you.”
This time, the tears spilled over. Sighing, he bent, slipped an arm under her knees, and lifted her up, hoping he didn’t trip and fall over. Carefully, he carried her through to the bedroom before letting go of her knees until she stood before him. He undressed her like a child as she sniffled and snuffled, and he tried hard not to look at how beautiful her breasts were in the moonlight. When she stood before him just in her panties, he told her to visit the bathroom.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Leaving the room, he let Mozart out for a final run around the garden, then settled him in his bed in the kitchen. “Night, boy,” he whispered, bending to kiss the dog’s head. “Thanks for looking after her.”
Mozart kissed him back, then stretched out and sighed, apparently relieved the tension had dissipated.
Owen poured another glass of water and took it back into the bedroom. Skye had slipped into bed, so he visited the bathroom and cleaned his teeth. When he came out, she rolled onto her side to face him as he undressed. Aware of her watching him, he unbuttoned his shirt and chucked it onto the chair in the corner, undid his jeans and slid them off. In his boxers, he went over to the window and opened it, leaving the screen across to protect them from insects, then lifted the duvet and climbed on beside her.
He drank some of the water from the glass and left it on the bedside table in case he awoke in the night. Then, also rolling onto his side, he propped his head on a hand and faced her. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She’d dried her tears, and a smile now touched her lips. “You have such a great body.”
“Well, thank you. You too, by the way.”
Pulling the pillow down, she hugged it, her eyes large and wide, almost black in the moonlight. They didn’t say anything for a minute or two, just lay there and looked at each other, and he felt some of the tension disappear from her, as if she was starting to believe he wasn’t going to create a scene.
“You want to talk?” he said finally. “Or go to sleep?”
Nibbling her bottom lip, she thought about it. “I’m nervous of saying the wrong thing. I don’t want to upset you, or make you angry, and I know it’s terribly unfair, but I feel I need to make the decision about what I do myself.”
“Well, as I said, I’m not going to lie to you and say I’m neutral in this, or that I don’t have an opinion. But I want to know what you’re thinking. I’ll listen and I’ll try to help. If you can’t talk to me about it, who can you talk to?”
She thought about it. “It’s just… I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“Everything, which makes me both angry and sad at the same time, because I never used to be frightened of anything.”
“Okay, so let’s break it down a little. I’m guessing you’re scared of staying. Scared of having a baby and being alone. Not scared of me, though?”
Her lips curved up. “No. I’m not scared of you.”
“I’m glad.”
“I was scared of your reaction—not that you’d be violent or anything, but that you’d be angry with me. You’ve been so lovely up until now, and I was terrified you’d think I’d trapped you, or that maybe you didn’t want kids, and you’d be cross to think you were being forced into fatherhood.”
“I don’t do cross.”
She chuckled. “I’m beginning to see that.”
“And I don’t believe you did it on purpose.” He sighed and stretched, his body ready for sleep, but he was enjoying talking to her. “Like most guys probably, I haven’t given much thought to having a family, but it is something I’d assumed would happen one day. Is it a shock? Of course, and I’m not going to say it didn’t make me nearly faint with panic when Joss first let it slip. But almost immediately, I started thinking what it would be like to have a kid, and how it wouldn’t be that terrible—not if it was with you.”
She chewed her bottom lip, looking at the pendant on his chest, and he reached out and stroked her cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m sure you feel the same way I do—that this is a shock, and you’re not ready, and you didn’t want it to happen like this. And I know the life inside you is only a few cells across at the moment. It’s not a baby yet by any means. If you choose not to have it, it’s your body, and I’m not going to stand here and criticize you for it. It’s a huge commitment, and it would mean making an enormous change to your life.”
He sighed, dropping his hand. “However, I’d like to be honest with you and say that if you do decide to have the baby, I hope you stay in New Zealand. I’d be sad if you took the baby out of the country and I couldn’t play a part in his or her life. Whether or not you want to try and make a go of it with me is another matter. I’d like to try and see if we can make it work.”
“It sounds pathetic to say it, but I don’t want you to be with me because of the baby,” she whispered.
“I understand, but I hope you realize just how crazy I am about you. I’ve held back from saying it because I don’t want to scare you off, and I don’t want you to feel as if I’m blackmailing you into making the decision I want now. Equally, I’m not going to hide my feelings from you because I’m afraid of your reaction. I love you, I want you in my life, and I’d be the proudest man on Earth if you were to have my baby. Don’t let that influence you, though.”
Her lips twitched. “Yeah, right.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and dark. Was she going to refuse?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Skye looked up into Owen’s blue eyes, torn with indecision, as she had been all evening.
This was absolutely idiotic, being here with him. She was convinced she had to decide her future herself, and she couldn’t keep her head clear whenever he was around. Being here, in bed with him, was the dumbest thing she’d ever done.
But his reaction to her news, his gentle concern, his admission that he loved her, and his insistence that he’d honor her wishes, whatever they were, made her melt.
She hadn’t yet said I love you, because those words were final, and she wasn’t ready. As she moved onto her back, though, she thought that maybe her feelings were showing in her eyes, because he blinked a few times, and then the most beautiful smile spread across his face.
Slowly, as if she was a rabbit in a forest glade and he was frightened of scaring her away, he reached out a hand and rested it just above her panties. He kept his gaze on hers, and his body tensed a little.
She didn’t berate him for the gesture, even though part of her resented it. He’d said he wouldn’t try to influence her, and yet here he was, stating that he was thinking of their baby growing inside her.
But she didn’t push him away, because the tenderness and awe on his face brought tears to her eyes. He loved her, and she couldn’t be angry with him for that.
Reaching up a hand, she cupped his cheek, stroking his stubble with a thumb. “Will you make love to me?” she whispered, wanting to lose herself in him, to have his mouth on hers, to have him inside her.
He studied her. Did the thought repulse him? She’d heard that some men found pregnancy a complete turn off.
“It’s okay if you don’t,” she said hastily, “I understand. It’s not exactly the sexiest revelation I’ve ever made.”
One side of his mouth quirked up, along with an eyebrow. “You think I’m turned off by it?”
“I’d understand if you were.”
“I’m not, Skye, so let’s get that out of the way. If anything, it’s a turn on, although I’m not sure if that makes me perverted. I am a little tipsy, however.”
She gave a little chuckle. “Do men get tipsy? It sounds a bit girly.”
“Well, I’m not blind drunk.” He stroked her stomach. “But I don’t want to hurt you because I’m not as coordinated as usual.”
“You won’t hurt me. You’re the gentlest man I know.”
“Honey, I knocked you up because I was…how did your doctor describe it so delightfully?”
“Enthusiastic.” She giggled. “Yes, okay, fair enough. You are enthusiastic when it comes to lovemaking. But I trust you. And I want you.” She lifted herself up so she could kiss him.
Still, he hesitated, however. “Skye… I am too drunk to know whether this is a good idea.”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“I don’t mean that. Maybe it would be best to wait until you make a decision and we know where we stand.” A frown marred his brow.
But his skin was warm, and she needed comfort, needed to know he was there for her. “Make love to me,” she murmured against his lips, pressing hers across his mouth to his cheek, up to his nose, then back to his lips again.
He sighed. Then he said, “I’m not convinced. You’re going to have to talk me into it.”
Chuckling, she continued kissing his cheeks, his ears, his neck, and across his shoulders. “Please make love to me, Owen.” She touched her tongue to the hollow at the base of his throat. “Please.” She kissed his chest. “Please.” After tracing her tongue around the outside of his flat nipple, she then flicked it across the tightened nub.
He groaned and pushed her onto her back. “All right, I give in.”
She welcomed him into her arms, snuggling up against his large, warm frame. “Wow, you’re easy.”
“Where you’re concerned, I am.” He kissed her, delving his tongue into her mouth, and Skye sighed and tried to forget everything except the man who was trying so hard to show he loved her.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same as her as he kissed across her body and stroked with his hands. When he took her nipples in his mouth and sucked them gently, was he imagining how her breasts would change if the baby grew inside her? If anything, it’s a turn on, he’d said. She had the feeling he might not have admitted it if he was sober, but the glow in his eyes had been unmistakable—he’d meant it, and clearly he wasn’t angry or resentful because of what she’d told him that evening.
He hooked his fingers in the elastic of her panties and pulled them off, divested himself of his boxers, and climbed back onto the mattress beside her. Then he cupped her mound and began to stroke between her legs. Skye let her thighs fall open and surrendered herself to him, enjoying the sensual brush of his fingers. He was gentle, more so than normal, and she couldn’t help but be touched by that gentleness, his almost reverent approach to their lovemaking.
When her breathing turned ragged and her hands tightened on his skin, he lifted himself up and moved to kneel between her legs. Bending over her, he kissed her neck, then her breasts, and finally down her stomach. He touched his lips below her navel, one brief, light kiss, but it was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
He moved back up to meet her gaze, and he must have seen the tears, but he just kissed her nose. “You want me to use a condom?”
She hadn’t thought about that. “Stable doors and bolting horses come to mind,” she murmured, and he smiled. Nibbling her bottom lip, she wondered what to say. She’d never had sex without a condom before, and she suspected he hadn’t either. But honestly, what was the point? “You want to leave it?”
He shrugged. “Up to you.” His eyes were warm, and even though she could feel his eager erection against her mound, he didn’t move.
She gave a small nod. “Leave it.” His eyebrows lifted as if she’d surprised him, but he didn’t say anything, just shifted on top of her, parting her folds with the tip of his erection. Then, bracing his hands either side of her, he pushed his hips forward and slid slowly into her.
He closed his eyes. “Fuck.”
“Mmm.” She slipped her arms around him and watched his face, enjoying his sheer delight in being inside her without barriers. “Does that feel nice?”
“It feels fucking amazing.” He moved his hips back, then forward again. This time, coated with her moisture, he slid deep inside her.
Dropping to his elbows, he kissed her face, her ears, her mouth, and Skye sighed and let him make love to her as gently as he wanted. Up until now, sex with him had been hot, fun, often fast and furious, and fairly rough, as they both liked it “enthusiastic”. But for once, he moved slowly, arousing her with leisurely, tender thrusts, kissing her all the while. For perhaps the first time, she felt they were truly making love, because with every movement of his hips he murmured words of endearment, telling her how beautiful she was and how much she meant to him.
Already high on emotion, tears having hovered beneath the surface all evening, she was unable to stop them tipping over her lashes onto her cheeks. He didn’t stop, though, just kissed them away, still moving inside her, and pleasure continued to build until everything tightened around him.
He stopped moving and captured her oh, oh, ohhhs with his mouth, waiting until she’d finished and relaxed back into the pillows before giving a final few thrusts with his hips. It was her turn to watch as he came, and she kissed his jaw, stroked his cheek, and admired his fierce frown as he rode out the orgasm.
They waited for their breathing to slow, and he nuzzled her ear and kissed her before withdrawing.
“Ah,” he said, lifting himself off her. “Never had to cope with a damp
patch before.”
She laughed. “Me neither.” Tearing a few tissues from the box on the bedside table, she cleaned herself up, then snuggled against him.
“Are you okay?” He lifted her chin with a finger and touched his lips to hers.
“Fine.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“No, Owen. You were very gentle.”
“Good.” He lay back, running his fingers up and down her spine as she hooked a leg over his and cuddled him.
“Thank you,” she murmured, nearly dozing off.
“What for?”
“For making me feel better.”
His lips touched her hair. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She’d never felt so safe, so cared for. I love you, you silly girl.
She fell asleep with a smile on her lips.
*
On Saturday, Skye opened her eyes and immediately saw the sun beaming through the windows and falling across the bed in golden bars.
“Come on, sleepy.” Owen stood to the side of the bed, folding up a pair of jeans. “It’s your brother’s wedding day! I’ll run you a bath, and you can have a nice soak before you get dressed.”
She rolled over to face him, feeling distinctly queasy. “How long have you been up?”
“A while. It’s eight thirty. Mozart and I have already walked down to the river and back.”
He’d gone out without her? She’d expected to be awoken by his soft kisses. They’d made love before getting up several times that week. Why hadn’t he awoken her?
She yawned and stretched, then rolled over as he moved around the room, putting away his clothes from the night before. When she dropped her hand over the bed, Mozart’s warm tongue licked her fingers. She watched Owen open the wardrobe doors and flick through the hangers. “What are you wearing today?”
“A suit.” He pulled out a hanger that held a dark gray jacket and trousers and hung it on the wardrobe door.
“Oh.”
He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a wry smile before rifling through a few ties. “You sound surprised.”
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