Claiming His Wife

She could only dimly remember climbing out of the scented bath water, Roman stepping forward to smother her in a huge towel, gently patting her dry.

Her overnight bag was still in the hall. It had seemed too much effort to ask him to bring it to her. Besides, he had gathered her into his arms and slid her, boneless and naked, between the silky sheets...

And now he slept beside her, his tough features relaxed and almost vulnerable, his soft dark hair rum­pled, his jaw darkly stubbled. Her heart lurched with tenderness as she stretched out a hand to touch him.

He, too, was naked. Her smile was wicked now, her amber eyes glinting as she wriggled closer and wrapped her arms around him, glorying in the sen­sation of loving and being loved in return.

She felt his lithe body, stir, as if her touch had brought him immediately awake. And then he turned, pulling her close before lifting himself on one elbow, his face only inches from hers, his eyes soft, liquid silver, as he asked, 'You are feeling good now?'

'Mmm,' she murmured, wriggling closer, her breath snagging as she felt his hard response against the softness of her tummy. 'But I could feel better.' 'How?' His brows peaked, emphasising the line between them, and she put her hand against the side of his face, the rough dark texture sparking tremors of electric sensation deep inside her.

'This—' She rubbed the ball of her thumb across the carved sensuality of his mouth, then claimed it with her own, and his answering kiss was deeper, more tender than she had ever known it, touching her soul, claiming it, making it his own.

'Cassie,' he said raggedly when lack of breath parted them, 'I adore you.' He pushed his fingers through her hair, dark colour suffusing the skin along his taut cheekbones. 'I want you so badly. But is that all right for you, and for the baby? If I am slow? And careful?'

'Well...' she said consideringly, smoothing her hands over his shoulders and then down his chest to the tautness of his stomach. 'Slow and careful? I don't believe we've done that before.' Her eyes glinted wickedly into his as her hands slid between his thighs. 'Let's see how it works out, shall we?'

'Delicious,' she husked an hour later. 'Divine, pure ecstasy.' Her arms lay above her head, their legs tangled together, supine and sated.

Roman shifted on to one shoulder and bent his head to her breasts, burying it between their lushness. 'For me, it was heaven. You are heaven.' A hand strayed to her tummy, fingers rubbing through the tangle of springy curls just below. 'Cassie, amada, when did you know we were having a child?' he queried softly, his head lifting, his eyes intent on what his fingers were doing, the way her creamy thighs immediately parted for him.

She told him, her breath coming faster. How could this be happening again, so soon after the last mind-blowing hour?

'And you kept it secret. Why, Cassie mia’

'I wanted to be sure—' Oh, dear heaven, what was he doing? It was almost too much pleasure! 'Be sure you wanted me for me, not because I was to be the mother of your child.'

'Then I think,' he said with a decided glint in his eyes, 'that it is my pleasant duty to reassure you.'

And he proceeded to do exactly that.

Nine months later.

Three-month-old Sebastian Roman Fernandez looked adorable in his white lace christening robes.

He'd inherited his golden eyes from his mother, but the rest of him was pure Roman.

The family party was going with a swing. Teresa, now Cassie's staunch admirer, had coped magnifi­cently with the preparations, and the guests were spilling out into the courtyard.

The aunts had pronounced Sebastian the most beautiful baby in the whole of Spain, and Dona Elvira had admitted, 'You have made my son happy. I didn't believe you could but you have proved me wrong. My dear, you are a most welcome addition to the family.'

Cassie, her figure restored to normal—apart from a greater fullness in the bosom area which Roman vowed he adored—was dressed in a sleek cream silk shift, the pearls her husband had presented her with on the birth of their son around her elegant neck, her chestnut hair upswept to show them off.

The photographs had been taken and she'd social­ised with all of the guests. Now she had gravitated back to the crib, watching her baby son sleep, with love-drenched eyes.

'To the three of us.' Roman joined her, looking incredibly handsome in his lightweight handcrafted suit. He handed her a champagne flute and touched his glass to hers. 'To my beautiful wife, my hand­some son, and the happiest, proudest husband and father alive.'

Her smile was radiant as she reached up to put a kiss on the side of his gorgeous mouth. 'I missed you. Where have you been?'

'Talking to Roy. I managed to prise him away from Consuela for long enough to discuss a few pro­jects with him, get his opinions.' His grin was dis­arming.

'Do you think it's serious—I mean between him and Consuela?'

Her brother and the dark-haired pretty youngest daughter of the estate manager had been inseparable. Cassie could see the attraction between them.

Roy had matured out of all recognition. Deeply tanned, his features tougher and more serious, her brother had turned into one hunky man, the hard work around the estate broadening his shoulders and narrowing a waistline that had formerly tended to bulge.

'Could be,' Roman confirmed. 'In fact, I think it definitely is. And the way Roy's shaping up, he'll step into the job of manager when Miguel retires. And, Cass—' he slipped an arm around her shoul­ders. '—how would you feel about visiting Las Colinas for a few weeks, introducing young Seb around the place? I know how you love Sanlucar, and this house will always be our permanent home, but—'