His mouth came to her ear and he whispered, “I see you out here and wonder what’s in your mind, poppet.”
“I come out here to clear my mind,” she told him honestly.
“Is it working?” he asked.
She shook her head so she heard his chuckle, up close, right in her ear and the sound of it made her tremble.
She felt his hand’s slight movement and it came to rest on the baby while his other arm stayed wrapped loosely, but strangely possessively, around her.
Belle had the sudden wish that this was them, sitting by the sea next to his daunting but beautiful castle after sharing a Saturday together, quietly and patiently waiting for their baby to arrive. A baby whose arrival would not mean the end of what they had now, but would be the beginning of something even more wonderful.
As she had this thought, Jack asked, “Do you want to share what’s on your mind?”
She shook her head again instantly.
No, it was safe to say she did not want to share.
He didn’t speak.
She looked down at her belly and her hand, as if it had a mind of its own, moved to touch the healing scabs at his knuckles.
“Do you want to tell me about Miles?” she asked, also as if her mouth had a mind of its own.
“No,” he replied in a way she wished she could take the words back but his hand left her belly, twisted and caught hers. He lifted it, up and over her shoulder, where he brought it to his mouth and touched his lips to it.
Belle lungs compressed all the air out of her body as he dropped both their hands and positioned them, hers flat against the baby, his on top.
“Let’s just say Miles was far more polite when you were there than he was after you left,” he told her and Belle couldn’t imagine that as Miles had been well beyond rude when she was there.
Jack kept talking.
“It was coming for a long time, Belle. He’d been pushing for it for years. It was what he wanted and, finally, I gave it to him.”
“You didn’t want to,” she made a guess and his hand twisted again, his fingers lacing with hers, he moved their hands to rest on his hard thigh.
“No, I didn’t want to,” he agreed.
“I don’t know if Joy is okay with it. Gram won’t let us talk to her about it,” Belle informed him.
“She’s not okay with it but she’s lived with it all our lives. She’ll cope,” Jack replied.
Belle turned her head to look at him and he lifted his chin from where he’d been resting it on her shoulder so he could meet her eyes.
“He’s been that way all your life?”
Jack nodded and said, “Not that bad but he’s always been competitive. When Dad got sick, it changed, degenerated, got compulsive and became all constant.” He stopped and there was something so sad, so resigned in the tone of his voice that Belle had the urge to comfort him. To touch her lips to his or turn in his arms and give him a fierce hug.
Or both.
She did not do either, of course.
Instead she whispered, “I’m sorry. You said you didn’t want to talk about it.” She looked away and stated firmly, “We’ll stop talking about it.”
“We have to talk about something else,” he told her and the way he said that made her brace. And her bracing made her realise she’d relaxed into his arms and had been resting her weight into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.
This made her brace even more.
“Maybe we can just watch the sea?” she suggested, terrified that he was going to bring something up she didn’t want to talk about. Like agreeing a visitation schedule after the baby was born. Like discussing child support payments. Like a number things that didn’t go along with sitting in his arms and watching the sea.
“No, this needs to be said.”
She held her breath a moment then sighed.
“Okay,” she relented and his hand gave hers a squeeze.
“We need to talk about what happened in the stables.”
She didn’t know which time they were in the stables that he wanted to talk about. The first time, which was marvellous and she didn’t want to talk about it. Or the second time which was terrible yet, also, in the end, marvellous, and she didn’t want to talk about that either.
Nevertheless, talking about either time was better than child support or visitation schedules.
“What about it?” Belle asked.
“I need to apologise.”
Her head twisted around as his turned and she looked into his eyes.
“Apologise?” she asked, confused.
“For carrying you down the ladder.” She felt her lips part in surprise as he kept speaking. “I was angry at you for avoiding me. I had residual anger at you for keeping the pregnancy from me. And I had a number of things on my mind, many of them needing my attention. This made me impatient. But none of that excused what I did.”
“Jack –” she whispered but he interrupted her and now his voice was fierce.
“I frightened you. The look on your face, I’ll never f**king forget it.”
“Jack –” she tried to cut in again and failed.
His hand in hers moved to wrap around her body, taking hers with it and he gave her a squeeze before he stated, his voice low and rumbly, “It won’t ever happen again.”
“Jack –” she said yet again and yet again he kept talking.
“And, you should know, you were right. It was exactly your imperfections that drew me to you.”
Belle stopped trying to interrupt and her parted lips became a mouth dropping wide open in complete and total shock.
His eyes dropped to her mouth hanging open and his lips twitched before his gaze rose to her eyes again. “That and your hair.”
She kept staring at him.
“And your dress,” he continued.
She didn’t utter a word, just kept staring at him.
“And your eyes,” he went on, the grin turned playful, his eyes went wicked and his voice dropped deeper when he finished, “And, a lot later, those unbelievably sexy noises you made while I was f**king you.”
She felt her belly dip and her br**sts swell and both felt too darned good for her peace of mind.
Therefore, in a belated attempt at self-protection, her body moved to bolt out of his arms. Where she was going, she had no clue but she was going there, and fast.
The problem was, he’d prepared for it and his arms went tight the minute her body prepared for action and he held her in place.
Her eyes flew to him in alarm even as her skin tingled in anticipation.