by Sandra Paul
Lauren blinked and looked around in confusion. “Where are we?”
His gaze was fixed on her. He shrugged, not even bothering to glance around. “Kitchen supply closet, I think.” Huge cans of vegetables were stacked on the steel counters. Green beans, peaches—with the Jolly Green Giant smiling from the labels. There was an assortment of pots and pans as well.
“So why,” she asked, not quite meeting his eyes, “are we in the kitchen supply closet?”
“Because we need to talk.”
“We’ve already talked, Rafe.”
He shook his head. “You did—I didn’t.”
The reminder hurt. Her cheeks flushed with heat, then paled again. She swallowed painfully. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I know.”
He reached for her. “Lauren—please—” He stepped toward her, but paused when she carefully backed away. His hands dropped. The grim lines bracketing his mouth deepened. His eyes were serious as he said, “I’m sorry about that night. I never should have taken you to that hotel.”
Something in his voice made Lauren’s throat tighten. She didn’t know what to say.
He met her gaze steadily. “I want us to start over. Make a new beginning.”
“Rafe…” Her voice broke. She clasped her hands together. Why was he making this so hard? She looked at him miserably. “I need to go. I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“This isn’t a game.” His shoulders tensed and he shifted restlessly. “It never has been with you.”
Her disbelief must have been written on her face, because his jaw tightened. “I mean it. I know my record in the relationship department isn’t good—hell, I’ve never been close enough to anyone to even call it a relationship. But you told me that you’ve changed on the outside, but not on the inside. Well, since I’ve met you, I’ve changed on the inside. I want more in my life than brief, meaningless affairs. I want to have someone in my corner, someone to build a life with.”
His eyes grew darker, his tone more intense. He stepped closer. He was standing right in front of her now, and, before Lauren realized what he was doing, he caught her fingers in his. A slight shock ran through her at the feel of his warm skin.
He held her hand tighter. “This past week I’ve learned just how terrible it is when you’re not there. How much I miss you.”
Pain filled his eyes. His husky voice grew softer but more urgent. “Please, sweetheart, come back to me. Without you I have no one to really talk to—no one to play with. There’s no one to tease and watch out for.”
He lifted her hand, cradling it against his cheek. Shutting his eyes he turned his face into her fingers, breathing the words against her palm. “Oh, Lauren. Without you, I have no one to love.”
Love. The word hung in the air, then, like a raindrop in a pool, rippled through her. Spreading wonder, spreading joy.
Her eyes were wet, her smile bright as she stroked his lean cheek. “Oh, Rafe. I love you so much.”
For a long moment, he just stared down at her without moving. Then he caught her in his arms, kissing her fiercely, thoroughly.
“Oh, Lauren. Sweetheart…” He kissed her again, then whispered against her mouth. “I want to be with you, every day and every night.”
“Move in together, you mean?” she asked, tracing the determined line of his jaw.
“Damn right I want us to move in together—right after we get married.” His arms tightened possessively. “I want you to belong to me completely—and I want every marauding male that ever comes near you to know it.”
He reached into his pocket and Lauren’s eyes widened as he pulled out a small black velvet box. He flipped open the lid, and removed the diamond solitaire inside.
“Oh, Rafe…” she choked out. Tears brightened her eyes as he slipped it on her finger. She admired it, turning her hand this way and that, watching it sparkle, as he took her in his arms again. “It’s beautiful. It’s gorgeous—”
“It says you’re mine.” And he sealed her mouth with a kiss.
Epilogue
One year later…
“C’mon, Rafe.”
“No. It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve had a nice dinner—a great dessert—and all I want to do now is relax.”
Lauren let the silence stretch, broken only by the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth. Then she asked again in a cajoling tone. “Please? Just a quick one.”
Rafe gave a long-suffering sigh and slouched down farther on the couch in the house they’d bought just outside the city. Turning his gaze away from the fire, he slanted a glance at his wife, who was sitting next to him. “They’ve all been quick lately. That’s the problem.”
“I’m sure you’ll do better this time,” she said primly.
“I would have done better the last time if you hadn’t worn that damn nightgown to distract me,” he replied with a low growl, feeling himself harden at the mere memory. He loved that white nightgown on Lauren. When he’d first seen her pacing slowly down the aisle behind Jay at their wedding, he’d thought she’d never looked lovelier than she did in her mother’s white wedding dress. Then she’d come to bed on their honeymoon dressed in that silky nightie, and he’d changed his mind immediately.
He reached down to capture the slender fingers sliding stealthily along his side to the sensitive spot beneath his ribs, and glanced at her. His heart kicked up a beat, and his hand tightened around hers.
Fresh from her shower, she’d put on a pink sweat suit and her furry slippers to stay warm during dinner, and the outfit should have made a difference in the level of his desire. But it didn’t help in the least. He knew how smooth her skin was beneath the cozy fleece. He’d explored with his hands and mouth every delicate hollow and womanly curve—and he planned to do so again very soon in their nice big bed.
He certainly didn’t want to waste any time playing chess!
He opened his mouth to say so—then shut it again as he met her gaze. Her smoky-blue eyes had an expectant, hopeful expression and her soft lips were curved in a seductive smile. Damn it, she knew he was a sucker for that look.
He sighed, admitting defeat, and released her hand. “Fine. I’ll play you. But just one game.”
“Great!”
She jumped up to get the chess set while Rafe rose to pull a chair and small side table around in front of the couch. Lauren sat in the chair across from him, and immediately began setting out the pieces. They settled in to play.
In a ridiculously short time, Rafe realized he was in trouble. He was frowning over the board, sure she had some devious plan in mind when she spoke again. “Rafe?”
“Hmm?” He took hold of his knight.
“Let’s make a bet.”
He looked at her—something he’d been trying to avoid doing because she’d been lightly rolling his pawn against her lips ever since she’d captured it. An unfair, Freudian distraction if he’d ever seen one.
He leaned back, narrowing his eyes at her. “What kind of a bet?”
“Oh, I dunno. Just a friendly wager to make things interesting.” She waved his pawn in a vague gesture, then tapped it against her lips again, pretending to think. “How ’bout if I win, we open presents this evening?”
He scowled. Damn it—he had plans for this evening! Big plans that included Lauren lying naked in his arms in front of the fire.
“And if you win, we open them in morning.”
Rafe set his jaw. She looked way too confident for him to agree to such a thing. “We agreed already to wait until morning. I don’t think—”
He broke off, his voice strangled in his throat as her bare toes slipped under his pants leg. The little cheater had kicked off her slippers under the table, and was obviously intent on tormenting him. She stroked his calf then withdrew her foot. Suddenly, he felt it again, gliding along his inner thigh. Searching, no doubt, for the place that interfered with his thinking.
Abruptly, he slid back, out of danger. “Fine,” he growled. “It’s a bet.” Grimly, he
advanced his knight.
Two moves later, Lauren declared, “Checkmate.” She smiled at his stunned expression and rose, patting him on the head as she sauntered past. “I’ll get the presents. Mine are in the bedroom.”
Rafe stared at the board a moment longer, wondering where he’d gone wrong. Then, with a sigh, he put the pieces away. He’d obviously gone wrong when he’d taught Lauren to play chess.
He stood up and gave a huge stretch, then retrieved the present he’d bought her from beneath their tree which they’d decorated with twinkling lights, ornaments, and the little angel perched on top. He eyed the big pine consideringly. Opening their gifts shouldn’t take too long. The scent of pine, the thought of the colored lights flickering on Lauren’s bare skin was giving him a great idea…
Lauren came back into the room a few minutes later, wearing her “distracting” nightgown, and discovered Rafe sitting on the couch with a satisfied look on his face. Looking past him, she shook her head as she saw the pillow and blanket he’d cunningly placed beneath the tree. When it came to making love, the man didn’t know the meaning of the word enough. Which was a very good thing for her.
She joined him on the couch, curling her legs beneath her.
“You first,” Rafe said, handing her a small oblong package.
Lauren accepted it and carefully unwrapped the silver foil to reveal a black velvet jewel box. She lifted the lid, and gasped, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh, Rafe…”
He’d given her a diamond solitaire necklace, a perfect match for her engagement ring. She held it up, watching it sparkle in the firelight. “It’s stunning. It’s lovely. It’s— why, it’s Moustier.”
“Yeah, well…” He pulled a wry face.
Lauren stifled a smile. “Can you help me put it on?”
She turned her back and Rafe deftly fastened the small hook. When she turned around again, he caught his breath. The diamond hung in the deep V of her nightgown, right between her breasts. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said huskily.
He went to take her in his arms, but Lauren gently held him off, saying, “Your turn.” She handed him a large package.
“Hmm, what can this be?” Rafe said—as if he hadn’t shaken the gift a hundred times since he’d found it in their closet. He ripped off the paper and a big smile crossed his face as he opened the box inside. Sure enough, just what he’d expected.
He lifted out the brown sweater she’d made him. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart.” He watched her face light up, then added, “But…” He hesitated.
“But what?” she demanded, taking the bait.
“But now that I don’t have my yarn ball anymore, what am I going to play with?” He gave her a meaningful look.
She simply smiled, as she handed him another brightly wrapped gift. “This.”
Rafe accepted the present curiously. This one had him puzzled. Shaking it hadn’t revealed a thing.
And when he ripped the paper off, at first he thought the box inside was empty. All he could see were a few pieces of tissue. He glanced at her questioningly.
“Look again.” Lauren’s voice sounded oddly breathless.
He pawed through the tissue and discovered a couple strands of yam, twisted together.
One pink. One blue.
His heart began pounding. His throat felt tight, but he forced out the words. “Are you—”
“Yes, I’m pregnant—we’re pregnant!” she said, before he could complete the question. She threw herself into his arms, a glowing smile on his face.
“Oh, sweetheart…” His voice was choked. Rafe settled her across his lap and buried his face against her soft hair. “When?” he croaked huskily.
“Seven more months. Our baby should be here late in July.” Never, Lauren thought, had she ever expected to see such a look of wonder on his face.
His dark eyes blazed, but the kiss he gave her was tender, sweet. Her arms were clinging around his neck when he lifted his head to look down at her again. “Oh, Laurie, I love you so much.”
He hugged her, and Lauren rested her cheek against his heart. She smiled slightly as he dropped a kiss on her head, and spread his big hand protectively across her still-flat stomach. In a minute or so, she knew, he’d lie beside her on the nest he’d made beneath the tree, and they’d make love. Make another memory, another link in the chain of their life together.
She cherished those moments when he was inside her, as close to her as he could get. But she savored these moments, too. When, snug in his arms, she knew she was safe and warm.
And loved.
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