A Bundle of Christmas Babies by Lucy Monroe;Diana Hamilton;Christy Lockhartz

Author:Lucy Monroe;Diana Hamilton;Christy Lockhartz
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-05-05T01:32:31.109000+00:00

‘Feeling better?’

Behind closed eyelids Mattie’s mind was drifting in neutral, fuzzy round the edges. But the soft concern of his voice, the touch of cool fingers on her forehead as he moved a tangle of rumpled hair to one side, made her come fully awake, shamefully aware of the nuisance she’d made of herself.

She opened her eyes slowly. The big double bed was comfy and she was covered by a white cotton cut-work spread, and the room was blessedly cool, many long windows with the bright Caribbean sunlight slanting downwards through the partially closed hardwood louvres, making the pale sage green decor misty by contrast.

‘James,’ she managed thickly. Bending over her, his face was shadowed, dark brows drawn down, but there was a hint of a smile on his sensual mouth. What on earth would he be thinking of her? That her behaviour was par for the course—that he couldn’t have expected anything else from his gauche, unsophisticated wife?

She shuddered inside. Fiona wouldn’t have been airsick, she wouldn’t have come within a whisker of passing out in the transit lounge of Barbados’ airport, or thrown up again on the scary helicopter flight out to this island. She wouldn’t have arrived a sweaty, crumpled wreck, barely able to stand.

Fiona would have taken it all in her stride, lapped up the first-class nine-hour flight, sipping champagne, making witty, clever conversation. But then Fiona wouldn’t have been feeling ill with apprehension, wondering if her marriage was about to end.

Mattie groaned. ‘Is it tomorrow yet?’ she asked stupidly.

The smile in his voice told her he’d registered the silliness of her question, but he didn’t answer it, simply asked again, ‘How do you feel? You’ve slept for hours.’

How did she feel? Mattie sat up against the white-covered pillows to find out and only when she saw the sinfully seductive yet intent gaze of his eyes did she glance down and discover she was naked, the twin pertly rounded globes of her breasts the focus of his complete attention.

Flustered, she jerked at the spread to cover herself. The caress of his eyes had been like a physical touch, almost as if his hands had shaped and discovered her, his mouth suckled the rosy tips. Already her breasts had hardened, her whole body on fire, pulsing with need.

She smothered another groan. Somehow she was going to have to cope with the way she ached for him, wanted him, needed him. Their marriage was going nowhere; it was about to end—she was certain of that now. She could think of no other reason for his sudden desire to take them both out of circulation for an entire month.

‘Did you put me to bed?’ She injected asperity into her tone but inside she felt as if she were coming unstitched, imagining his hands on her body, his eyes. She couldn’t remember much about their arrival apart from a headache that had felt as if her scalp had been split in half, the tablets he had given her, him carrying her up the stairs.

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