The spark of desire in her eyes nearly unraveled the last thin threads of his control. “Your turn to pay,” he murmured.
Smiling, she ran her hands over his chest and around his neck. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
Hoarse laughter escaped him. “You’re a nymph.”
Her eyes grew as dark as navy, the candlelight flickering off the uncertainty that suddenly appeared in the velvet depths. “Are you complaining?” Her question was half teasing, half serious.
He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek. “I never did like silent, predictable lovemaking. You’re anything but predictable, sweetheart.”
Reaching for the hem of her nightie, he shimmied the silky material up her thighs, across her belly and over her head, tossing the gown aside. Lowering his mouth to hers in a long, lingering kiss, he maneuvered her to the bed and guided her onto the soft mattress. He followed her down and pinned her there, the weight of his body settling between her spread thighs. Meshing their fingers at the side of her head, he stared into her eyes, an incredible feeling of want and need enveloping him.
Megan was awash with feeling, a swirl of thrilling sensations that made her breathless, dizzy and melting inside. She wanted to run her hands down his back, urge him to complete that downward move that would end the torment, but his hands kept hers locked. She wanted, oh, God, she wanted… A whimper of frustration and need tangled in her throat.
His eyes glowed like hot emerald coals from the reflection of dying candlelight. “You’ll do anything for me?” he asked in a low, rough voice, reminding her of the promise she’d made to him earlier.
She’d give him her heart and soul, if only he’d ask. But that wasn’t what he was after. No, he wanted her total surrender. Through the passionate haze clouding her senses, she wondered how he intended to take it and experienced a shimmer of excitement that stripped all her inhibitions. “Anything,” she whispered.
“Wrap your legs around me. Tight.”
She did, and came undone when he consummated their marriage in a ritual as old as time and as sacred as the vows that made them husband and wife. He took her with a fierce kind of tenderness that touched her heart and brought her more pleasure than she thought she was capable of experiencing. When the tempest ebbed he kissed her so sweetly she wanted to weep. Her big, ferocious warrior with all his wounds and scars was the gentlest, most giving man she’d ever known.
But he’d never believe it.
Gently turning her, he tucked her body against his and wrapped his arms around her. “I think, Mrs. Fielding,” he murmured sleepily into her ear, “that I could definitely get used to this.”
I’m counting on it, Megan thought, her heart swelling with love and hope.
Megan woke alone, and although she wasn’t totally surprised by Kane’s absence, not waking with her new husband beside her still hurt. She’d hoped marriage would bring them closer, bridge some of the emotional distance that separated them. And for a few glorious hours last night she believed she’d reached past those barriers and touched a part of his soul.
Apparently, he was so used to withdrawing and shutting people out that he’d automatically done the same to her once the soft, warm glow of their lovemaking ebbed and cold reality intruded.
Sighing, she reached across the bed and placed her hand on his pillow. The gold band on her finger glinted, reminding her of the commitment she’d made to this man. She’d never taken her responsibilities lightly, and being Kane’s wife would be no exception. She was going to love him whether he liked it or not, and she hoped that love would be enough to heal old pain and memories.
Mrs. Fielding,. She smiled, liking her new name and the way it sounded on Kane’s lips. She liked a lot about her husband, especially his smiles and laughter, rare gifts she intended to make a daily part of her life. Starting this morning.
Refusing to let Kane spend any of their short weekend honeymoon away from her or secluded in his workshop, she tossed off the covers and slid from the bed, intending to track her wayward husband. Passing the sexy nightie she’d worn the night before, she opted for comfort and grabbed one of his large shirts from the closet and slipped into it. She pulled on a pair of wispy panties then went into the bathroom and brushed her hair and teeth.
She returned to the bedroom and opened the top dresser drawer Kane had left empty for her undergarments. Reaching beneath the froth of silky things, she retrieved the wedding gift she’d bought for him when she’d gone into the city two days ago to do some shopping. Holding the silver-wrapped present against her chest, she padded down the hallway in search of Kane.
She found him in the kitchen, leaning against the open back door and staring at the yard. He wore a pair of soft faded jeans that made him look too sexy for her peace of mind. His pensive expression made her momentarily pause. They were good together in bed, but what about dealing with the everyday intimacies shared between a husband and wife? Would Kane allow them to have that kind of relationship or would he forever hide his emotions?
She wasn’t going to let him. Determination propelled her forward, and he turned and looked at her. The instantaneous flare of hunger in his eyes caught her off guard, as did the spark of pure male possessiveness. Her body flushed from head to toe. The one thing he couldn’t hide was his desire and physical response to her.
Gratified that she affected him on some level, she stopped at the kitchen table, waiting to see if he’d come to her. “Hi,” she said, her voice sleep soft and a little husky from his open appraisal of her.
“Mornin’,” he murmured, eyeing the present in her arms with a slight frown. He didn’t move, increasing the awkward morning after tension filling the room.
They stood there for endless seconds, each one waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, she gave in and crossed the distance separating them. Grabbing his hand, she led him to the table and pushed him into one of the wooden chairs, then draped herself over his lap before he could object.
The look of surprise on his face made her laugh. “I have something for you.” She handed him the flat, square package, eager to see if he liked the gift she’d selected for him with such care.
Tentatively, he took the present. “My birthday isn’t until November.”
Sensing he wasn’t used to receiving surprises, she sifted her fingers through the hair at his nape and smiled encouragingly. “I’ll remember that for future reference. This, however, is a wedding gift.”
His mouth tightened. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. I saw it when I went into the city and I knew you had to have it.” Impatient and anxious to see his reaction, she nudged the gift in his hands. “Go ahead and open it.”
“All right.” He tore off the paper, revealing a thick, leather-bound book. He stilled, the wrappings fluttering to the floor unnoticed as he stared at the cover, the title and author inlaid in gold lettering.
“What’s this for?” he asked, an odd, almost defensive quality to his voice.
She tilted her head curiously, certain he was teasing her. “It’s for you. Open it up and take a look.”
He did, slowly flipping through the pages. Glossy pictures of various pieces of furniture graced the pages, along with detailed instructions on how to build each. The pieces were intricate and elegant in design, requiring the skill of an experienced carpenter like Kane.
“I’m sure you have a collection of books on cabinetry,” she said quickly when he said nothing, “but this is a new edition, and I couldn’t resist.” She searched his face, seeing a muscle in his cheek tick and something similar to anger darken his gaze.