A Million Different Ways (Horn Duet 1)

“I know you won’t. Now come upstairs with me so I can make love to you.”

Not another word was spoken as I took his hand and led him to our bedroom. I undressed him slowly. His eyes fixed on me the whole time as love, uncertainty, and a million other emotions took turns flashing in those gorgeous pools of liquid fire.

He seemed uncomfortable letting me lead, taking and not giving. Dear, sweet man, so inexperienced at receiving it was a crime. But I wouldn’t let him touch me. If I did, I would succumb quickly. This was my way of showing him how loved and treasured he was when he needed it most, when he needed reassurance.

I kissed every square inch of bare, golden flesh on his body, lingered longer over every bump and raised scar on his injured leg. His strangled whimpers made me bold. I gripped him firmly at the base and took him into my mouth, sucked strongly on the crown until he sighed and moaned and gripped the sheet hard enough to tear it. His body bowed off the bed, every muscle tense. He squeezed his eyes shut, swelled even larger in my mouth when I pressed down on the sweet spot under his sac. He was close, his skin slick from the strain. The perfect symmetry of his face twisted as the pleasure broke through the pain still on the surface. His muscles turned to stone. And as I lifted my mouth, his eyes opened wide and his seed shot onto my bare breasts; the room resonating with the primal, guttural cry of his release.

Breathing harshly, he draped his arm over his eyes while the last tremors left him. I placed a chaste kiss on his open palm and went to the bathroom to clean myself off. When I returned, though, he was staring at me with that broken, conflicted look again. Snuggling up next to him, I pulled the covers around us and created a cocoon where only he and I existed.

“I need you so much it scares me,” he confessed. It killed me to hear his voice so small, to see this powerful man so broken down.

“I feel the same way…there’s nothing to be scared of.”

His eyes fluttered, fighting to stay open, his breathing turned deep and easy. “Let me do something for you,” he mumbled.

“Not tonight, lover. Go to sleep.”

I stayed awake for a long time afterwards, contemplating what had gotten lost in all the disclosures. Someone was trying to kill him. The man I loved. The worry lodged near my heart felt like a ticking time bomb. Fighting the anguish that threatened to overwhelm me, I focused on the comforting sound of his gentle snore and prayed for strength.

* * *

With all that had transpired, my head was spinning for most of the following day. Sebastian was quiet as he dressed for work, interrupting what he was doing every few minutes to touch me or hold me. I let him, even though I knew he was running late for a business meeting. I needed to touch him as much as he needed it.

Around four o’clock, I glanced at my phone and realized I had ten new messages. My stomach sank when I recognized the number.

Dr. Rossetti’s office. No doctor’s office ever left that many messages unless it was bad news.

Stepping out of the kitchen for privacy, I walked to the vegetable garden and dialed her number, my hands shaking so much that I had to clear the screen twice. Her receptionist told me to hold on. The doctor had been trying to reach me for twenty-four hours and absolutely needed to speak to me, she explained. By the time I heard Dr. Rossetti’s voice, I was already in full-tilt panic.

“Vera?”

“Yes, I’m sorry Dr. Rossetti, I wasn’t able to check my phone yesterday.” My voice sounded steadier than I was feeling.

“Never mind. You didn’t fill that prescription did you?”

I could feel my heart pounding in my throat. “No, why?”

“Because you’re pregnant.”

You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant… it was like a far away echo, followed by a high pitch ringing in my ears.

“Pregnant?” The word sounded foreign on my lips.

“Correct.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you most definitely are.”

“That’s impossible,” I said curtly.

“Are you having sex?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I assure you it’s quite possible.”

I couldn’t breathe, on the verge of hyperventilating.

“But I never get my period! My mother tried to conceive for years and couldn’t. And she died in child birth!”

There was a rustle of movement behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and found nothing.

“You obviously do not take after your mother because you’re quite pregnant. I won’t know how far along until you come in for an ultrasound. I recommend you come soon. Otherwise, you’re perfectly healthy. No anemia, it’s the pregnancy making you tired…I see this is unexpected. Let’s talk about it when you come in.” I nodded, at a loss for words. “Vera?”