“Are you good now?”
“Yes. No more tears.”
“Great. Now tell me you love me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Say it.”
She rolled her eyes at him, appreciating the fact that he was trying to temper the emotions running around inside them. “I love you, Brant O’Keefe.”
“Perfect. Now give me a kiss.”
“So demanding.” Leaning forward, she obediently laid her lips on his. He parted them with his tongue, sipping from her and deepening the kiss, his arms coming around her like steel bands. She sank into the kiss, her fingers sliding into the hair at his nape as she poured everything she could not say into it.
Several minutes later, he lifted his mouth from hers and rolled his forehead on hers, his body shuddering. “You need rest.” He wasn’t surprised that his voice was raspy.
“That’s all I’ve been doing.”
“You also need food.” He rose and held out a hand to help her up. “Let’s go and eat.”
After the meal, he took over and undressed her, filling the tub with her favorite scents, and gave her a bath. Afterward, he sat on the sofa doing some work while she pleasured herself by doing a slow and thorough examination of all the changes. He would look up from the contract he was making notes on and smile at the enraptured expression on her lovely face. He wanted to give her the world, he thought with a jolt. He knew her life had been very hard, and he wanted to just give her everything.
She took such joy in simple things, things he had always taken for granted.
Later, when they retired, it was difficult keeping his desire at bay, but he had to hold her. He had slept without her for three nights, and it had been pure torture. But having her lush curves pressed up against him was another form of torture. He lay there wide awake, even after his wife had fallen asleep, and had to fight not to give in to his desire.
It was in the early hours of the morning that he finally drifted off.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“The store. I’ve been out for three days.” She looked up at him as he came into the room while she was trying to decide what to wear. “What do you think?” She held up a snug-looking, gold-colored cashmere dress in one hand and a winter-green one in the other. She was only wearing matching black lace panties and a bra that barely covered her breasts. His sleep-deprived body was not proof against such a thing.
“Neither.”
“What about-”
“You’re staying home.” He had risen early to take a run at the gym in an effort to try to get rid of his enormous appetite for her. So much for that, he thought wryly.
Putting back the dresses in their slots, she fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I’m going in. John cleared me for-”
“You just had surgery. Take another day.” He headed for the bathroom and wished fervently that he had showered downstairs.
She followed him, her seductive scent in his nostrils. Before he could slam the door shut, she marched in behind him.
“I had surgery three days ago. Brant, I have a business to run, and you cannot expect me to- you cleaned out the store! I have to go in and make some more orders, and as much as I trust Willow and the others, I know what I want, and my suppliers like to hear from me. I promise to take it easy. I will just sit at my desk and be on the phone the entire time.” She threw up her hands. “Why am I explaining all of this to you?”
He tugged off his sodden shirt. He had hit the treadmill and the weights with a vengeance. Now he was feeling like he had been run over by a truck. It took everything in him not to whimper.
“Because I am your husband.”
“I’m going in,” she warned.
“All right. Half day.”
“No-”
“Three in the afternoon.” His tone was implacable, warning her that he was not to be swayed. “You leave at that time, darling, or I come and cart you out of there.”