Mischief and Magnolias by Marie Patrick

Author:Marie Patrick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2014-02-12T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Despite the rough beginning, Remy enjoyed married life…at least the first two weeks of it. And he loved sleeping next to Shaelyn. Without her realizing it, she brought a comfort to him as no other had been able to do, and the nightmares he generally suffered through were not as frequent. She crawled into bed now without argument, although she continued to hug the edge of the mattress, which simply amused him because no matter how hard she tried, at some point during the night, she would wander to his side of the bed in her sleep and they ended up holding each other, a fact that annoyed her beyond reason.

Feigning sleep in the mornings had become a favorite pastime for him as well, for as much as he loved sleeping beside her, he loved watching her when she was relaxed and not so guarded.

She rose early, whether she could hear Beelzebub’s crowing or not, and slipped from bed after wrestling herself free of entangled blankets…and him.

This morning was no different…for either of them. He lay on his back, holding her close, while her head rested on his shoulder, her body pressed against his side. Her hand splayed across his chest, fingers hot against his skin, but not nearly as hot as her bare leg thrown over his, her nightgown bunched up between them. Remy lay still, and hoped she wouldn’t move. Better yet, he hoped she would, but not to get out of bed.

With a heartfelt sigh, Shaelyn carefully disentangled herself and crawled from the bed. Remy instantly felt the chill without her beside him, even though she adjusted the blankets over him, which warmed his heart if not his body.

She lit a lantern against the darkness, but kept the wick low to provide only meager light, then gathered her clothing from the armoire. He watched every graceful move she made, mesmerized, until she left the room.

She returned shortly, fully dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, which she preferred, the flannel nightgown, which she also preferred, thrown over her arm. Through slightly closed eyes, he studied her as she untwisted the braid hanging down her back and brushed her long, shining tresses until they gleamed in the lamplight. A few quick moves and she twisted the light mahogany locks into a loose knot atop her head. He wished she’d leave her hair loose, like that night in the garden when he had pulled the pins from the heavy mass and weaved his fingers into the softness. His fingers flexed now, remembering how soft her hair had been.

The last thing she always did before she headed downstairs was dab a little perfume on the pulse spots behind her ears. Not a lot, as the bottle was nearly empty. The fragrance not only filled the room, but filled his mind with images, his heart with wonder, and his body with longing.

This morning, though, she surprised him. She added something new to her routine after she put the stopper back in the perfume bottle.

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