She was worried. Nervous.
She smiled, and it was glorious. Yes, she said. Yes, I’ll marry you.He wasn’t sure there were words for such a moment, even among two so glib as they. So he kissed her instead. He kissed her mouth, worshipping her in all the ways he’d dreamed of these last few weeks. He kissed her cheek, her neck, the perfect hollow above her collarbone.
I love you, Poppy Bridgerton, he murmured. More than I could ever imagine. More than I can even conceive.But not, he thought, more than he could show her. He slid her nightgown from her body, and his own dressing robe somehow melted away. For the first time, they were skin to skin.So beautiful, he whispered, gazing at her as they kneeled in front of each other. He wanted to kiss her everywhere, to taste the salt of her skin, the creamy essence between her thighs. He wanted to swirl his tongue around the tight pink buds of her breasts. She’d liked that, he remembered, but what if he nibbled? What if he tugged?
Lie down, he ordered.She gave him an amused, questioning look.
His lips found her ear in hungry growl. I have plans for you.
He felt her pulse leap, and she started to lower herself down. When her bottom touched the bedsheets, he scooted her legs out from under her, leaving her breathlessly on her back.I loved the baby so much it was like living in another dimension. My little traveler had replaced Ollie as the creature I talked to the most.
My plan was to get through tonight, which was going to be horrifically difficult on its own. Later this week, I’d tell the Coburns I was moving back to Brooklyn and get out of Cambry-on-Hudson before I started showing. The urge to disappear into Brooklyn and simply never contact them again was strong, if wrong.This pregnancy would hurt them so much.
In two months, my tenants’ lease would be up, and I could move back to my apartment and start the next phase of my unexpectedly complicated, sad, wonderful life. Daniel was campaigning for me to live with him until then; he had a second bedroom. I was thinking about it.He’d been great these past few weeks. He called every night and came over at least once a week. One day, I found the fridge full of fresh vegetables and a roasted chicken. He left me little presents, like a huge vat of Tums—I had wicked heartburn—and a nice almond-scented shower gel. A gift certificate for a pedicure. You could tell the guy had four sisters.