She made her way downstairs and immediately Jeffrey appeared, and he showed her into the dining room. Like the rest of the house it had a comfortable feel about it, though elegant and totally in keeping with the Georgian era. But still not familiar. She frowned.
‘Stop it, Josie; you’ll end up with a line between your eyes. Remember what the doctor said? No forcing the issue.’ Conan strode into the room, and pulled out a chair for her. ‘Sit down, stop worrying and eat.’
‘Yes, oh, master!’ she joked as he sat in the chair at the top of the table with Josie on his right-hand side.
Jeffrey served their meal—broccoli soup, then fresh poached salmon, both of which he insisted was good for pregnant mums.
Josie accepted the salmon Jeffrey offered her with a wrinkle of her nose, then flushed as she saw the amused lift of Conan’s eyebrow. ‘Excuse him, Josie; I’m sure Jeffrey thinks he is having the baby!’
‘That would be a miracle,’ she smiled, and some of the tension eased from her body. ‘But I don’t think I like salmon,’ she concluded—but put a forkful in her mouth anyway. She chewed for a moment. ‘Actually it’s quite nice. Obviously I can’t trust my own instinct.’ And she ate the rest without comment.
The pudding she did refuse, simply because she felt full. But she watched Conan devour a generous portion of apple pie, smothered in cream, and wondered how he kept so hard and lean. A vivid image of his naked body flashed into her mind, which was enough to set her pulse racing, and hastily she picked up her glass of water and finished it off. Suddenly the thought of the night ahead loomed large in her mind. She had no excuse for not sharing the marital bed. The baby maybe? But she didn’t think so; the doctor had made a point of telling her, along with a lot of other advice, that sex was perfectly safe. She really had to get over this childish fear of intimacy with her husband.
Conan suggested coffee in the drawing room and Josie agreed. She sat down on the sofa and Conan joined her, casually putting an arm around her. Curved as she was against his side, her head resting against his broad chest, the steady rise and fall of his deep breathing lulled her into a deep sense of security.
Jeffrey walked in and set the coffee tray on the occasional table, and said goodnight.
Josie smiled her thanks, and unthinkingly placed her hand on Conan’s thigh to push herself up into a sitting position. ‘Shall I pour?’ She threw him a glance, and caught a flare of desire in the darkening depths of his eyes. She felt his muscles flex and tense beneath her palm, and she was belatedly aware of the intimacy of the situation.
She snatched her hand back. ‘Sugar, milk?’ she asked, edging away from him, suddenly hit by an attack of nerves.
‘Black, one sugar.’
Keeping her attention fixed on the tray, she filled two cups and handed one to Conan. She picked up her own, drained it in one gulp and jumped to her feet.
‘I’m going to bed, if you don’t mind. It has been a long day and I’m tired.’
Conan rose to his feet. ‘Of course,’ he agreed, with a sardonic glance down at her flushed face. ‘I have a few telephone calls to make. I’ll be up later.’
Josie dashed out of the room, sure he had guessed how nervous she felt. Standing in the bathroom twenty minutes later, fresh from a shower Josie surveyed her naked body with a grim smile. While rubbing baby oil on to her tummy, she remembered Conan’s magnificent nudity earlier, and decided ruefully that she had nothing to worry about. Conan was hardly likely to be overcome with passion for a small round person. Even if he did love her.
‘Here, let me help you do that.’
She spun around, her eyes widening on Conan’s serious face. Lost in her own thoughts, she had not heard him enter. Her instinctive reaction was to hide her nakedness from his intent gaze, but something in his expression stopped her. He was openly studying the soft fullness of her breasts, and she shivered as he stepped forward and took the bottle of oil from her unresisting grasp.
‘I’m getting fat,’ she blurted—the first thing that came into her head.
‘No, Josie. You’re a ripe, voluptuous woman, and I adore you,’ he said huskily.
Josie trembled. He was so close she could smell
the cool, masculine scent of him; something quivered in her belly, and it was not their child...
‘Come.’ He lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. ‘I can do this better in the bedroom.’
He was her husband, and he had the right, but none of that mattered to Josie. The simple truth was, she wanted this man. She made no effort to stop him as he gently lifted her into his arms and, cradling her against his broad chest carried her into the room, placing her in the middle of the wide bed. She reached for the sheet, but Conan stopped her.
‘No, Josie, darling; let me look at you.’ Sitting down on the bed, he poured some oil direct from the bottle on to her stomach. Then, reaching over, he placed the bottle on the bedside table.
At the first touch of his large hands on her stomach she quivered, then, as he gently massaged the oil over the mound that kept their child safe, she began to relax.
‘You must have done this before,’ she whispered, her eyes closing, relaxing at the soothing stroke of his hands on her distended stomach.
‘And much, much more,’ he said softly, his hands leaving her stomach and stroking up under her breasts.
Her eyes flew open and clashed with the gleaming dark gold of his. ‘Conan?’ she queried as his hands inched higher, cupping her breasts, his long fingers massaging the firm flesh. She moaned as his touch filled her with delicious pleasure.
‘More oil, I think,’ he drawled. ‘And a little less clothing.’ Wide-eyed and breathless, she watched as he stood up and shrugged out of his clothes. Once naked, he picked up the bottle of oil and slowly, deliberately trickled a drop of liquid onto the hardened peaks of her breasts.