Chapter 14

He stared at her for what seemed like forever, memorizing her features. Her eyes were luminous from the lovemaking, and her round face had become familiar to him. Even in his dreams, he saw her. He was here with her, and it felt right. She was carrying his baby, and this was a familiar scene.

Marilyn told him she was pregnant, and he immediately proposed. He told her he wanted to legitimize their baby and make it legal. He proposed to her, and she insisted that they wait until after the baby came.

However, she had an ulterior motive that he never saw coming. He was in a similar situation, but it was even more significant. He was unable and unwilling to stay away from Indie. She was wrapped around and through him like clinging vines, and he could not shake her loose. Oh, good Christ! He had tried.

"Royce?"

"I suppose you want me to marry you." His voice was gruff, his face harsh from memories.

Indie felt her heart sinking. She had seen the play of emotions on his face and knew he was back in the past.

"What can I do to prove that I am not her?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know," he admitted bluntly, not even bothering to deny that there was an issue.

"Time, I guess."

"How much?"

"I don't know." This time, frustration was rife in his voice. "I have been down this road before, and it ended badly."

"I love you."

His eyes flared at her sincere tone and the soft look on her face.

"I have heard that before, too," he pointed out.

"I guess you have." She was tired and weepy. Some of it was hormones, but the rest—well, she knew the source. "I want to go to sleep."

"I apologize," he said tautly.

"For breaking my heart?" She smiled faintly. "I am not sure I can accept that. You need time. Does that mean you are going to stay away like before?"

"No." He shook his head. "I can't stay away from you and want to be there for you."

"Well, that's good." She withdrew, he felt when she did so emotionally before doing it physically, as her hands dropped from around his neck and she pushed him off her. He let her. He could see the hurt and pain on her face and wanted to erase it, but he felt helpless.

"I am spending the night," he muttered inanely.

"I suppose that's something." Pulling the sheets over her, she settled back against the pillows and turned her back on him. He lay there on his side, staring at her profile, and the need to reach out to her was so powerful that he had to stop himself.

She had a right to be angry, he thought. He had ignored her, insulted her, greeted her news with silence, and allowed the crippling memories to come between them. He was obsessed with her; that much was clear. He could not stay away, no matter how hard he tried, and he did not want to try anymore.

Being with her was the highlight of his life. He wanted to tell her that, but she already had so much power over his body that he did not want to give her even more.

She was snoring. A whimsical smile touched his lips as he realized that she was sleeping. She said she had been ill today, and he had not even offered one word of empathy. Hissing a breath, he moved closer, careful not to wake her.

She looked exhausted, and he looked like a monster, unable to curb his hunger for her. He had worn her out with his ardor, his lust. Even now- He sighed deeply as he pulled the sheets off her and edged in even closer until her body was spooning his.

She murmured slightly and moved away, but he wrapped his hand around her waist, keeping her there.

He never felt the need to be this close to a woman before. The feel of her voluptuous curves against his made him hot and acutely aware of her, the scent of her. Bending his head, he brushed his lips lightly against her temple and felt himself growing hard.

Chuckling softly, he instinctively reached between them and did what his body was craving. He slid into her, his body shuddering as he rocked against her gently. He felt when she tightened around him and realized that she was awake.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered in her ear.

"As if I could."

"I am sorry. I just want to feel you." He was not increasing his pace, and the slow and gentle movement of his body driving into hers had a startling effect on him. His heart was thudding, but he felt a sense of peace washing over him as he undulated his hips, his body surging into hers.

She was not moving, but her fingers clutched his hands wrapped around her waist. Opening his hand, he spread his fingers over her flat stomach, gently exploring the flesh, possessively moving over the skin as if he were telling her without words that he was happy about the life they were creating.

He kissed her neck even as his fingers drifted over her stomach. He was not saying anything, but his actions spoke volumes, and Indie felt an ache in her throat. Sliding her hand over his, she linked her fingers with his as he continued his exploration.

She came then, her body arching slowly as the climax, like a gentle wave, washed over her.

"Royce." She whispered achingly. "I love you so much." She did not care if he said it back to her. None of that mattered to her right now.

She cried out sharply when his teeth sank into the back of her neck, his body surging into her as the climax exploded. His large body was shuddering, his hands gripping her tight. His lips were soothing the bite mark and sending shivers all over her body.

"Go to sleep," he whispered after a few minutes. "I am here."

Lifting their hands, she kissed his back and held it to her cheek. His quiver ran straight to his heart at her tender gesture. He was still intimately joined to her when they both tumbled into sleep.

*****

Indie woke up at ten the following day and jumped up when she realized his bedside was empty. Feeling the sharp pain of disappointment and thinking he had left, she got up and went to take a quick shower.

Her stomach was rumbling, reminding her she had not eaten anything last night when she came home. Putting on baggy cotton shorts and a cropped top, she slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops and exited the room. She was halfway down the stairs when the scent of coffee hit her.

Pausing, she had to grip the banister as her knees weakened. He was still here, she thought faintly.

Taking a deep breath, she descended the stairs and went into her sunny yellow and green kitchen to see him seated around the spotless counter with a coffee cup and doing something on his iPad. He looked up and saw her standing inside the doorway, blue-gray eyes wandering over the smooth expanse of flesh in lazy appreciation.

"I made you tea."

"You did?" The smile came quickly as she entered the kitchen and reached for the cup.

"I was not certain you should have coffee."

"I am staying away from anything to do with caffeine. But I am starving."

"That's the extent of my culinary skills." He nodded to the coffee and the tea.

"Good thing that mine is a lot wider."

"How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful." She smiled at him, and he felt the familiar jolt as the dimples peeked out. Her smile completely transformed her face, turning her into an exquisite beauty that warmed his heart and made him hot. "I usually do not suffer from morning sickness. It comes later in the day."

"And you don't mind?" He watched as she removed stuff from the fridge to make an omelet.

"I asked for this; I begged for it." Taking a bowl from the pantry, she started cracking eggs. "Do you like omelets?" She asked belatedly, glancing at him.

"I do, yes."

Rising, he went to pour more coffee. "What are your plans for the day?" He asked casually.

Her heart took a swift dive as she chopped peppers and tomatoes. "Chores."

"I was thinking we could go for a drive."

She had to concentrate on the task to stop the trembling of her hands. "I would love that," she told him softly.

"I need to take a shower."

"Okay." She watched as he finished the coffee and walked around to her. Taking the knife from her, he turned her to face him, eyes gleaming.

"I need a proper greeting."

Placing her hands on his chest, she moved in. Sliding her hands up and around his neck, she leaned into him, her lips eagerly waiting for the invasion of his.

His hands cupped her face as he bent to take her inviting lips with his. Her breath connected with his and sent a wave of desire punching through his body.

Indie gripped his shirt, her body molding to his as she pressed her lips against his. Royce released her face, his hands drifting restlessly to her shoulders and down her back, settling at her derriere where he squeezed, bringing her to complete awareness of his desire.

"Royce." She whispered against his lips as he ended the kiss so that he could trail his lips along her temple and her cheek.

"You are so damn addictive." He admitted roughly. "I want you all the time."

"Oh God!" She clutched at him, her moans feverish as he plundered her lips again and again until she was weak with need.

"Please."

"Tell me what you want," he demanded thickly.

"I want you inside me."

"Here and now?"

"Yes. I cannot stand it. Please."

Shoving her back onto the stool, he dragged off her shorts and released his swollen shaft from his underwear. Lifting her thighs, he wrapped her legs around his waist and drove into her. "Good God!" He whispered hoarsely.

And she did, her hands going around his neck, body arching frenziedly as he drove into her. His control broke as she met his thrusts with a fire that was raging inside him. She lifted her face to his and captured his mouth in a kiss that scorched everything inside him. She came - her body jerking toward him, her legs pumping on his back.

He came then, the groan torn from his chest as he filled her with his seed. His body was shuddering, his heart beating so hard that he felt faint. Her legs slid lifelessly from his back, and she leaned into him weakly. Holding her tight, he breathed in her scent and felt the sweat trickling from his chest and armpits.

"I need a shower," he whispered against her lips.

"Hmm." She held him, refusing to let go.

"I am sweaty."

"You smell wonderful."

"You are biased."

"I am." She released him reluctantly and watched as he stuffed himself back into his underwear.

"I should probably go home to change."

"No need. Josh, my brother has some clothes in the guest room."

He stared at her with a slight frown. "You want me to wear your brother's clothes?"

"I don't want you to leave," she admitted. "You are a little taller than he is, but there are T-shirts and shorts. It's a warm day, and I can pop your things into the washing machine. I was planning on doing laundry today anyway."

"I don't-"

"Please."

Staring at the pleading look on her face, he felt himself weakening and nodded.

"Good." She smiled at him, and he felt he had done something significant. "I will come and collect your stuff and start the laundry. I think it's nice enough for us to eat on the deck."

She touched his chest lightly, hands drifting to his jaw. He placed his hand over hers and turned his head to kiss her palm. Before she could react, he dropped her hand and stepped back.

"I won't be long."

She waited until he had left before pulling up her shorts and leaning against the counter. "Oh, good Lord," she whispered shakily.

*****

Taking off his clothes, he tossed them outside the bathroom door before stepping into her shower. A smile touched his lips as he realized his shower was almost six times the size of hers. Turning the water on and adjusting the temperature, he picked up the bottle of clear gel that smelled like vanilla and squeezed some in his palm.

Rubbing his hands over his supple flesh, he thought about what happened in the kitchen.

She brought out the boy in him, he thought in amazement. He found himself doing things with her that he had never done with anyone, including Marilyn.

Ducking his head beneath the spray, he allowed the water to beat down on him for a few minutes before turning off the tap.

Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed two towels, wrapping one around his waist and toweling the water out of his hair as he strolled into the bedroom. She had come up because the heap of clothing he had left on the floor was gone, and on the bed was a selection of two pairs of shorts and a selection of t-shirts.

Deciding on the khaki, he dragged it on and reached for the black t-shirt. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he picked up the towels and headed out of the room and down the stairs. She wasn't in the kitchen, but the scent of omelet and coffee led him toward the back, where double glass doors stood open.

A trestle table was set, and she poured orange juice into two glasses.

"I brought these down." He hefted the towels, and she came to take them from him.

"Sit." Her appraising gaze wandered over his trim, muscular frame. His powerful legs were covered with dense dark hair. "I knew they would fit."

"Thanks for the loan." Pulling out a chair, he sat and waited for her to return.

"It's nice out here," he murmured, staring at the clump of trees that hid them from prying eyes.

"You garden?"

"I try," She handed him an omelet and wheat toast plate.

"It seems you are succeeding." He cut into his eggs, took a bite, and smiled in appreciation. "You plant vegetables?"

"And herbs." She rolled her eyes as she tentatively sipped her OJ. Her stomach was not erratic, but she did not know what triggered the nausea.

"Herbs?"

"Rosemary, thyme, mint, basil, parsley, things like that."

He glanced at the profusion of flowers mixed with pots of herbs. The entire backyard had an enchanting look that spoke of serenity. "Everything looks healthy."

"I have a next-door neighbor, Mrs. Lakes; she is a widow who lives alone and is a peach and a whiz at gardening. She is the one who did most of the work." Indie sipped tea and tried to take her mind off the coffee he was sipping with such relish.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I started eating extremely healthy, mixing the things in my garden with my meal." She stared at him fixedly. "I want a healthy baby and am determined to do my part. What do you want it to be?"

"What do you mean?"

"Boy or girl?"

"I have not thought about it."

"I want a son." She told him softly.

"Why?"

"Because you need an heir, and I want a son with your features. I know that because we are mixed race, he will probably end up with hazel eyes, but I want him to inherit your determined chin with the cleft in the middle and the shape of your face."

He felt the lump inside his throat as he stared at her. "You don't want him to inherit anything from you?"

"My personality." She told him with a laugh.

"That's wise." He acknowledged, and she could swear that his eyes had a glint of amusement. "Mine is not exactly engaging."

"Oh, I don't know." Picking up her cup, she took a sip of the tea. "Right now, I can almost believe you are sweet."

"God forbid," he smiled as she burst out laughing. Surprised, he realized that he could relax with her. She was vivacious and had an infectious laugh. Finishing the meal, he listened as she launched into stories about some of her eccentric customers.

"I don't believe you."

"It's true." Her eyes twinkled. "Mrs. Edwards has more money than she knows what to do with, and she would come into the store four times a week and purchase more than a thousand dollars worth of stuff, even things she had already bought. She is my best customer."

"What does she do with the things she purchases?" He asked her curiously, enjoying her presence and her ready smile.

"She gives them away."

He blinked at her. "Come again?"

She laughed at the baffled look on his face. "She gives them to her neighbors as well as her friends."

"So, this woman just buys these things to give them away?"

"I told you, she has more money than-"

"Sense?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"I wanted to avoid going there."

"Right," he said dryly. "Well, at least you are making a lot of money off her."

"She is a sweet lady, and sometimes I feel guilty about charging her."

"Why?" Leaning back in the chair, he stretched his legs out. "She loves to shop; why take that away from her?"

She stared at him with an impish look on her face. "That's what I keep telling myself."

"Good." His smile had her going warm all over.

*****

"I love this." Stretching her feet out, she lifted her head to the sky and delightedly closed her eyes.

She suggested they pack a picnic basket even though she had no idea where they were going. "Does this piece of land belong to you?"

"The company." He was propped against a massive oak tree, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"We haven't decided yet." They were on a slight incline, allowing them to see the quaint little town below. "Perhaps build an inn."

Turning her head, she gazed at the verdant scenery, the trees dotting the extensive grounds and wildflowers bursting everywhere.

"Or a farm." She murmured.

"That's a good idea. The land is fertile and big enough to accommodate farm animals."

"I can see it now. A barn over there for horses," She pointed to the east. "And is that a stream?" She exclaimed in delight, scrambling to her feet and swaying slightly, her head spinning.

"Hey." Surging to his feet, he grabbed her around the waist. "You okay?"

"I got up too quickly. I am fine. No- Oh-" Pulling out of his hold, she hurried a few feet away and, leaning against a tree, she started retching.

At first, he could not move, but then he moved forward quickly, standing behind her and holding her around the waist. When finished, she leaned against him and closed her eyes, appreciating his solid frame.

"Better?" He asked her gently.

She nodded, taking deep breaths. "I think it's the orange juice or the beef's scent. I made some beef sandwiches."

"Want me to get rid of them?"

"No. But I need some water."

"Let me get it. Are you still dizzy?"

"No. I am fine."

"Stay put while I get the water," he ordered.

He hurried to the basket and grabbed a bottle, bringing it to her with the cap twisted off. She rinsed her mouth out and finished the rest.

"I am happy I am here to help you through this," he said quietly, guiding her back to the blanket.

"So am I." She told him sincerely.