Gripping her hips, he lifted her body for one final thrust, his breathing erratic and shallow. The climax tore through him like a raging storm, leaving him gasping for breath, and it was endless. Lifting his mouth from hers, he stared at the woman he thought he had rescued and realized that he had underestimated her. The aftermath of the intensely powerful climax had him collapsing on top of her weakly, his body still shuddering.
It took him a few minutes to move to the side, conscious of the fact that he was crushing her. For another few minutes, he just wrapped his arms around her as he fought to get his breathing under control. He had never been in love. Yes, there had been a few instances when he had toyed with the idea of making things permanent, but he had quickly come to his senses.
He had never been in love, he mused, but he was pretty sure that this was it. He had fallen in love with his wife. Tipping his head down, he wondered how to say it. Was it too soon, or should he wait until they were not so overcome with emotions? Clearly, this was an intense moment for both of them.
Chapter 12
"We should eat," he said briskly instead and felt like a coward. He stirred himself. His wife lifted her head and smiled, dimples creasing her cheeks, and he felt his heart melting even more.
"I could eat a cow." She trailed her fingers up and down his chest, loving the fact that his muscles leapt in response. She had been expecting him to tell her he loved her and had to hide her disappointment when he simply mentioned food. But she could wait. She already knew he felt something and would just have to wait.
Clamping a hand on her roaming one, he shook his head, eyes darkening. "Unless you want to satisfy another craving, I suggest you cease."
"I thought we were going to spend all day in bed."
"First we eat." Bending, he kissed her roughly on the lips before detangling his limbs from hers. Propping her head on her palm, she had the pleasure of staring at his magnificent physique.
"Aren't you getting dressed?"
He dragged on a pair of sweats, leaving his impressive-looking chest bare.
"Soon," she murmured, a smile playing around her lips.
Shaking his head and feeling his desire starting all over again, he turned away to find a t-shirt.
"We eat in the kitchen." Grabbing a rose-colored silk robe, he tossed it at her. "If you're down in five minutes, I eat without you."
Flopping back on the pillows, she took a deep breath and wondered how on earth she was going to concentrate on anything else after this.
When she came downstairs, it was to see him putting steaming bowls of the stew on trays. A home-baked, tasty-looking soda bread was already sliced, and a bowl of garden salad sat on a tray.
He looked up as she entered and tried to ignore the fact that her robe was gaping open at the neck, revealing enticing glimpses of flesh. He had already made love to her and had spent the last couple of minutes in the kitchen giving himself a stern pep talk about controlling his baser instincts. That went to hell as soonas he saw her. He was stirring to alarming life and didn't like the fact that just looking at her did this to him. It made him crabby and ill-tempered.
"We dine in the living room, unless you want to eat here in the kitchen." His tone was a little snippy, but too damn bad. He wasn't feeling particularly gracious.
"Living room is fine. What can I do?"
"Grab the bottle of wine from the cooler. The Costa Imperial will go well with the meal."
Very soon they were set up in front of a blazing fire in the large living room. It was snowing, steady drips of it pinging on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was a leaden gray; the trees were almost completely covered in white, but Indigo could not have asked for a more romantic setting.
He had set up a table between the comfortable rockers.
"This is amazingly good," she murmured after she had taken her first taste of the stew. "And the bread is a marvel. I wonder where she learned to cook like this."
Stretching his legs out, Brant eased out a breath and decided to enjoy the moment. "She was with my family for years. She's originally from Ireland and lived in Spain for a time. She lost her husband and son there and went back to Ireland for a while." Picking up his wine, he took a sip and savored the taste on his tongue. "I believe you know that my family originated in Dublin?"
She nodded and took another healthy bite of the stew. "I read somewhere that your dad's dad was born there."
"So were my paternal grandparents."
"Are they still alive?"
"No." He shook his head. "They died ten years ago in a boating accident."
"And your mother?"
"What about her?"