‘I have you,’ he said. ‘I have my child, growing inside you.’ His hands splayed across her abdomen in a gesture of warm possession. ‘And I have a miniature version of you in Suzanna, who worships the very ground I walk upon because I rescued her from your father. I am very content, believe me.’
‘Well, your contentment is going to fly right out of this window if you move your hands much lower,’ she informed him quite pragmatically—then tilted her head, her green eyes twinkling wickedly up at him.
And he laughed, a deep, dark, very masculine sound that had her turning in his arms to face him. That was all it took. Their bodies fused … so did their mouths … and they were lost in each other.