Without a doubt, today’s afternoon wedding and reception had exhausted the baby for what should be a nice long stretch.
Duarte and Kate had insisted their ceremony include everyone from the most senior member—the king—to the babies. Medina gatherings were a frequent event now, with so much to celebrate in their expanding family. They’d packed even the spacious mansion during the past week before the wedding. Little Enrique’s baptism had brought out relatives from Lilah’s side as well. And while she still harbored reservations about her father, she was able to enjoy her parents’ delight in their new grandchild.
Now the time had come for Carlos to round out the day with a final—private—celebration with his wife. He dropped a careful kiss on his son’s forehead then backed away quietly.
Tugging his tuxedo tie with one hand and nabbing the baby monitor with the other, Carlos strode toward the sound of spraying water emanating from the bathroom. He flung his tie aside and plucked a rose from the sterling silver vase beside the bathroom door. He ran the rose under his nose before stepping into the steam-filled room.
He set the nursery monitor on the marble countertop and opened the fogged glass door. “I need to talk to you,” he repeated her wording from eight months ago when she’d stunned him, dazzled him with her bravado at confronting him in the men’s locker room. “And this is the only place I can be certain of catching you alone on an island full of family and our son asleep in the next room.”
Water slicked down his wife’s body, caressing every luscious inch as he would soon have the privilege of doing in deliberate, leisurely detail. Motherhood suited her well in every way.
“Well, you most certainly have my attention,” she said, gathering her water-darkened hair and stretching her arms overhead with a come-here smile.
He stripped off his tux in record time and stepped under the heated spray, rose in hand, eager to explore the new curves childbirth had brought. “And I’ll be doing my level best to keep your attention through the night.”
“Am I about to be the lucky recipient of another of your amazing medicinal massages?” She looped her arms around his neck, her slick body against his. Warm pellets of water engulfed them from the multiple showerheads.
“My most thorough massage to date.” He plucked the petals free and tossed the stem back onto the bathroom floor. Grabbing a bar of French soap, he lathered his hands into a mixture of suds and petals, then rubbed the fragrant mixture over Lilah’s creamy skin. The flowery scent saturated the steam along with the perfume of her shampoo.
“Mmm…” She arched into his touch with a throaty sigh. “We should insure those hands. I am such a very lucky woman to have found you.”
“I’m the lucky one, and you can be sure I won’t forget that for even a second.” He stroked upward until he cupped her face. “I love you, Mrs. Medina.”
“And I love you, Dr. Medina.”