again, and then again. Gripping my shoulders tight with his hands, he rode me. To my amazement, a new tension began to build deep inside me. Different this time. Even deeper. With a gasp, I wrapped my hands around him, feeling the clench and unclench of the muscled cheeks of his backside, feeling the sweat on his skin as he fiercely held himself in check.
His thrusts became rougher as he rode me harder, faster, our sweaty naked bodies sliding against each other. He held my shoulders tight enough to bruise, as he pounded me hard, hard, hard. Deep, deep, deep. My back started to arch again. Seeing that, he sucked in his breath and lowered his lips to mine, kissing me. I felt the flick of his tongue against mine as he rammed into me so deep, and that was it—the brutality and force and lust shook me into an explosion so great I screamed into his mouth.
His self-control evaporated. With a low guttural growl, he shoved into me one last time, and with a gasp and groan, he spent himself inside me.
He collapsed, his body heavy over mine on the bed.
It took long moments for me to return back to earth. When I did, my eyes flew open.
“We forgot to use a condom,” I blurted out. I expected him to look horrified. He did not.
“I forgot nothing.” He gave me a heavy-lidded smile. “I want to get you pregnant, Lena.”
Shock went through me as I stared at him with wide eyes. “But we...”
“I will fill you with my child, mi esposa. Try to fight me if you must,” he whispered, then his smile lifted to a grin. “It is always a pleasure to battle with you.”
SUNSHINE WAS SPILLING from the windows, across our naked, intertwined bodies spread across the bed, the white cotton sheets twisted and tangled at our feet. My first thought when I woke was to think it all had been a dream. Then I saw Alejandro, still sleeping in my arms, a soft smile on his chiseled face.
I caught my breath. My heart beat faster, in a rhythm like music, because joy—pleasure—everything I’d ever wanted had all come true at once.
Slowly, Alejandro opened his eyes, and his smile widened. His expression was open, and young, and he, too, seemed to be shining with happiness. “Buenos días,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss me tenderly on the forehead, “mi corazon.”
“Good morning.” I blushed, looking away, feeling oddly shy.
Reaching out, he lifted my chin and kissed me, until all thoughts of shyness disappeared beneath the mutual hunger building anew between us.
How was it possible? We’d made love three times last night—three times!—and yet he was still brand new. I gloried in his touch, in the feel of his naked, hard-muscled body against mine, his arms holding me as if I were truly the precious names he’d called me. My pleasure, my duchess, my wife. My lover.
And now something more. Something new he’d called me for the first time.
My heart...
We made love once more, hot, hard and fast—and good thing about that last bit, because thirty seconds after we’d both collapsed in a sweaty, gasping heap on top of each other, I heard an indignant cry from the nursery.
We looked at each other and laughed.
“I’ll get him,” I said, starting to rise from the bed.
“No.” He put his hand on my shoulder, pressing me back against the soft sheets, and rose from the bed, pulling on a white terry-cloth robe over his hard-muscled body. “You got up last time. Relax. Go take a shower. Take your time.”
I came out, hot and clean and pink-cheeked and happy. I got dressed in a soft pink shirt and skirt, and fed the baby as my husband had a shower in his turn.
This was just as I’d always dreamed. No. It was better. Just the three of us...
For now.
My hand slowly fell on my belly. I want to fill you with my child. Was I afraid? Yes. But did I also want, desperately want, another baby? Also yes.
So much had changed since the last time I was pregnant. Instead of being a fearful fugitive, I was married now. Settled. With a home.
Would it be so wrong to just let myself be happy? Alejandro was a good father. He was proving to be a good husband. He wanted to take care of me forever. He wanted us to be a family. And the way he made love to me... I shuddered at the memory of ecstasy.
Would it be so forbidden, so foolish, to trust my husband with my heart?
If only I knew the lie he was telling me, or had told, or would tell. He said he’d been faithful to me for a year, that he’d never be disloyal.
Of course, that could be the lie....
My lips pressed together, and I grimly pushed the thought away. I told myself that, since he’d shared so much of his body, surely he’d soon find it irresistible to share the secrets of his heart. And then I forced myself not to think about it.
Denial is a beautiful thing. A woman in love can be very good at focusing on the rose and ignoring the thorn—at least until it draws blood. Over breakfast, I kept smiling at Alejandro over my plate of eggs and jamón, my coffee diluted with tons of cream and sugar. And instead of treating me like a lovesick fool, as I no doubt looked like, Alejandro, the dark, dangerous, ruthless duke, did the unthinkable.
He kept smiling back.
“I’d like to take you around the estate today,” he said, sipping his black coffee and reading the morning newspaper, “to meet my tenants.”
“What?” I nearly dropped the baby rattle I’d been holding out for Miguel, who was sitting in my lap. Chortling, the baby grabbed it in his fat little fist and triumphantly began to shake. “I thought I’d meet them at the wedding reception.”
“Abuela told me it will take her two months to plan the reception. We cannot wait that long.” His eyes met mine. He seemed to sense my fear, because he gave me an encouraging smile. “You are my wife. It is right that I introduce you to the tenants on the estate. That is the merest good manners.”
“But...”
“Besides. Knowing Abuela, the reception will be a lavish affair, to impress acquaintances and friends. I want the first introduction to be private. Personal.” He paused. “Many of them have been farming this land for generations. They might have heard rumors. They might think that having a baby first, and getting married second, is a little...”
“Modern?” I supplied.
“Yes. Modern. I don’t want them to wonder if this is a real marriage, or if we’ll stand the test of time.”
“Will we?” I whispered.
“We will,” he said seriously, looking straight into my eyes. “And I want them to have no doubt you are here to stay.” Leaning forward, he took my hand in his own. “I want them to think well of you, as I do.” He looked at me. “Will you meet them?”
