“I do, I do indeed believe it will help. As your husband, it is my duty to see to your welfare, thus I must demand that for the purpose of your continued good health, you remove your night rail.”
What a wonderful man! How thoughtful he was! How concerned he was for her health. “Oh,” she breathed, thoroughly enjoying how her breasts moved against the palms of his hands.
Harry’s eyes widened behind his spectacles. “NOW!”
“Oh!”
His hands still warm on her breasts, he leaned forward, his hair brushing her jaw as he kissed a hot trail along her collarbone, down to the top of the night rail where the pretty rose ribbon held the garment up. She breathed in the scent of him, part lemon shaving soap, part something earthy and arousing, and entirely male that was solely Harry.
“I will be happy to assist you if you are unable to disrobe by yourself.”
Plum looked down to where Harry was pulling away from her, one end of the ribbon clenched firmly in his teeth. “This is wicked, you know, utterly and wholly wicked. We have only known each other for two days, and we’re about to…you want to…and I would dearly love to…in bed. Together. With all our bare skin showing!”
The ribbon fell from his mouth as he looked up, a grin so endearing on his face, she wanted to grab his ears and kiss him until his spectacles fogged up. “Yes, I know, it is wicked, isn’t it? Delightfully so.” The bright glint in his eye slowly darkened with a shadow of doubt as he took a step backward. “You do want to do this, don’t you? I’m not rushing you? I meant to tell you that I wanted a wife who desired a physical relationship, but at the time…er…I…eh…and today, when you said you had been married, I assumed that you’d want to…uh…”
Plum smiled a wry little smile as her breasts, heavy and hard and greatly missing his touch, pushed themselves with eagerness back into his hands. “Yes, I very much want to be a wife to you in all ways. It’s just that I have only been with my first husband, you see, and we were together only for six weeks—”
Harry gently kissed the words from her lips. “You don’t have much experience, I understand completely. You need not be worried on that account — we will discover this new territory together.”
Plum was about to object to the ridiculous idea he had about her sexual naivety when his mouth closed upon hers, driving all thoughts but those of a carnal nature from her mind. His mouth was sweet and hot and fi lled her with the need to taste him. Without waiting for an invitation or even permission, she slid her tongue into his mouth, capturing his delighted moan, pressing herself against him in an attempt to get closer. His hands slid from her breasts to her back, one tangling itself in her hair, the other grasping her behind, pulling her hips tight against him. Even through the heavy brocade of his dressing gown she could feel how aroused he was. His tongue twined around hers in a motion remarkably similar to the sinuous grind of his hips. She slipped both hands around his neck, pressing herself tighter against him, clutching his hair as she mapped out the terrain of his mouth, wanting to burn up with the heat he generated deep within her, needing to burn bright, unable to stop until she had merged with him, joined with him, his heat feeding her flames—
“Papa, Ratty is asleep and won’t wake up.”
Plum thought she was hallucinating for a moment, but the way Harry stiffened against her alerted her to the fact that she hadn’t imagined the childish voice behind her. With much regret, she separated from him, turning to face the small child who stood in the doorway to Harry’s room, a limp brown object held carefully in his hands. He eyed her with bright curiosity. “Who’s she? Is she going to be my new mama?”
Mama? As in…mama? Plum blinked in surprise.
“Er…yes. My dear, this is McTavish, my son.”
He had a son? And he hadn’t told her? Plum shook the cobwebs of astonishment from her mind, and smiled at the tow-headed boy. “Hello, McTavish, I’m very pleased to meet you. Yes, I am going to be your mama. What’s that you have?”
The boy pushed the brown object into her hands. “It’s Ratty. He’s asleep. He won’t wake up.”
Plum, no stranger to rodents after having lived with an animal-obsessed Thom for the past few years, did not shriek or object to the obviously dead rat she found herself holding. In fact, she was rather proud of how quickly she had assimilated the information that Harry had a child he had forgotten to mention during his secret baring. She moved quickly to step into the role of mama to his sweet, motherless child. “I’m afraid Ratty has been called to heaven by the angels, McTavish. Do you see how his chest isn’t moving? That means he’s not breathing. I’m very sorry. Ratty looks like he was a good companion.”
McTavish’s lower lip emerged, and his eyes clouded for a moment, then just as quickly the tears were gone and the lip was retracted. “Can I have a kitten now, Papa? You said I couldn’t have one because it would eat Ratty, but now Ratty’s gone to heaven, so can I have a kitten? Can I? You said I could! Can I?”
Harry sent Plum an apologetic look that begged her forgiveness for his lapse in not mentioning he already had a child. She returned it with one that said although she would have preferred being told earlier, she understood, and was more than happy to be mother to his adorable son. His responding look offered fervent and profound thanks for her complete acceptance of his hitherto unmentioned son, along with general admiration for her maternal nature, and the promise that he would give her many other children of her own. At least that’s what she thought he was trying to convey; truthfully, he looked more concerned than anything else, but she was sure she had read the emotions so plainly visible in his lovely, changeable eyes. What man didn’t want his new wife to love and adore his child?
“We’ll talk about it later, son. Here, you take Ratty and put him in a box. We’ll have a funeral for him in the morning. Give it to Gertie on your way back to bed.” Harry pushed the small child toward the door, giving Plum another apologetic look over his shoulder.
“I want a kitten! You said I could have a kitten, and I want one. I want one now!”
“Later,” Harry hissed, and tried to shove the boy through the opened door.
McTavish grabbed the door frame with the hand that was not holding the rat. His hazel eyes, so very much like his father’s that it tugged on Plum’s heartstrings, pleaded with her from across the room as Harry tried to pry the five pudgy little fingers off the door. “Mama, I want a kitten. Papa said I could have one.”
He called her Mama! She melted into a big puddle of maternal goo. “And so you shall have one, my sweet little lamby-cake. The first thing in the morning I will take you to find a kitten all your very own. It will be our special time together.”
“Later,” Harry snarled, prying the last finger off the door frame.
He yelped as McTavish kicked him smartly on the shin before spinning around to run through the doorway, yelling to someone named Gertie that his new mama was going to get him a kitten.
Harry shook his fist after the boy. “You little bas”—he glanced back at Plum—“blighter! I’ll remember that, see if I don’t!”
Plum smiled a shy little smile that went straight to Harry’s groin as he closed the door and turned to face her. She was a wonder! Not only was she the most delectable morsel of womanhood he had seen in a very long while; she had lovely breasts; an amiable temper; seductive hips; an intelligent wit; long, lush legs; various other good nonphysical qualities that couldn’t at that exact moment be called to mind; nipples that cried out for his touch; a mouth that begged to be kissed; a body that felt like heaven against his…Unable to bear the distance between them, Harry lunged forward, intent on possessing himself of that warm, wonderful woman he had had the extremely good sense to marry.