Her br**sts had become tender lately, Colby reminded himself. He was very careful now when he caressed her there or took one of her ni**les into his mouth.
He pulled back the sheet and eased into bed beside Diana. She turned toward him, seeking his warmth. Colby gathered her close, aware of the deep pleasure and satisfaction he experienced in knowing she sought him instinctively in her sleep.
He was old enough to know that love between a man and a woman was a fancy word designed for arrogant, self-indulgent teenagers who were driven by their hormones. He’d learned everything he needed to know about love at the age of nineteen. At forty, he was finally figuring out what he really needed and wanted in a woman. Diana could give those things to him and he would do his best to make her happy in return. If they both worked at it, they could make the marriage work. They didn’t need to play word games.
But as his hand stroked slowly over her thigh, Colby wondered if perhaps she had a point. Where was the harm in letting her tell him that she loved him?
Perhaps it reassured her to say it. Women, even intelligent, mature women, sometimes liked the emotional trappings of romance. If she wanted to believe she was in love with him, if it helped her justify the situation into which she had been dropped and which clearly terrified her, who was he to deny her that simple relief?
“I thought you were going to write the rest of Blood Mist tonight?“ Diana murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
“Ill finish it tomorrow.“ He drew the sheet slowly down to her waist and bent his head to kiss the peak of one breast. He was exquisitely careful with his teeth and his tongue, and his reward was the way Diana sighed and shifted in his arms.
“What is this? Am I a substitute for burned hot chocolate?“ she asked with sleepy amusement.
“You’re not a substitute for anything, sweetheart. You’re you. And when I want you, nothing else will do.“ He brushed his fingertips through the silky fur below her softly curving belly.
She stretched slowly and languorously, her leg sliding between his. Her fingertips traveled down his chest to the hard shape of his waiting manhood. Colby sucked in his breath as she stroked him gently. He lifted his head to capture her mouth. She parted her lips for him as she always did, assuring him once more of his welcome. She never failed to make him feel wanted, more wanted than he’d ever felt in his whole life.
“Diana?“
“Hmm?“
“Tell me you love me.“
She stilled in his arms. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Why?“
“Because you’re right. We’re married. There’s no harm in the words and I think I like hearing them.“
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to say the words back to me?“ she asked.
He hesitated and then made his decision. “I’ll say them, if you want me to. If it makes you happy.“
“I’d like that,“ she whispered. “I’d like that very much. I love you, Colby.“
“I love you.“ The words felt very rusty in his mouth.
“I think you need practice.“
“I haven’t said those words for twenty years, and I was wrong then.“
“Practice makes perfect.“
“If you say so.“
Three months later Diana walked into the apartment with the basket of clean laundry she had just finished doing in the basement laundry room. She could barely get the door open, her hands were trembling so badly.
Colby came out of the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hand, and stopped abruptly. “Diana. What the hell’s the matter, honey? You’re as white as a sheet. Here, sit down. Do you feel faint?“ He put down the mug and came quickly across the room to take the basket of laundry. “I told you to wait until I could help you with the laundry.“
“I’m supposed to be playing housewife, remember? Colby, I’m fine. Really.“
“Sure you are. And I’m at the top of the New York Times bestseller list. Sit down. Are you dizzy? Want me to call your doctor?“
“No, please, I’m okay. Just a little traumatized.“
“What happened?“ His eyes narrowed. “Did someone harass you in the basement?“
“Of course not. There’s never been any trouble in the laundry facility in this building. Stop worrying, Colby. I’m okay. Honest.“
“Then what made you barn pale like this?“ he demanded.
“I just had a lovely chat with Jennifer Landsdown from 301.“
He frowned. “Is that the young woman who had her baby last month?“
“Right. First time I’ve seen her since she got home from the hospital. She was doing her laundry alongside me this afternoon. Couldn’t wait to share her experience with me.“
Colby groaned. “I think I’m beginning to get the drift. What did that chatty little twerp tell you?“
“The chatty little twerp gave me a blow-by-blow description of her entire delivery from the onset of labor straight through to the gory end. You should have been there, Colby. You could have used her descriptions somewhere in your next book.“
“Wait until I get my hands on her.“
“Why? I’m sure she only told me the truth.“ Diana took a deep breath and sank down onto the sofa. She looked down at her rounded stomach and thought about what Jennifer had just finished explaining to her in graphic detail. “I got it all, Colby, from ruptured membranes and uncontrollable shaking to a detailed account of torn flesh, heavy bleeding and afterpains.“
Colby’s mouth crooked wryly. “Sounds like little Jennifer had a field day terrorizing you.“
“Her final words of advice had to do with all those pregnancy books you’ve been bringing home from the library.“
“What’s wrong with them?“ Colby was incensed. “They were recommended by your doctor.“
“Jennifer read them, too. You know all those parts that use descriptions such as ‘discomfort’ and ‘intense’ to describe labor?“
“What about them?“
“Apparently words like discomfort and intense are euphemisms for unbelievable, unrelenting, extreme agony. I have to tell you, Colby, I am not good at handling unbelievable, unrelenting, extreme agony.“
“That’s why they invented anesthetics,“ Colby said hardily.
“They aren’t very free with the anesthetics, according to Jennifer. Too little and too late, she says. They’re afraid of the effects on the baby. Mostly you just have to tough it out.“