Something in his eyes was making her feel very dizzy. ‘Finn?’ she whispered.
‘Catherine?’ he answered unsteadily.
She knew that he was about to kiss her even before he moved. She could read it in the blue blaze of his eyes. And she opened her lips to greet his, not caring about the wisdom of it, only knowing that she had prayed for this moment ever since he had slipped that gold wedding band on her finger.
They kissed as if it was the first time, and in a way maybe it was the first time. This time they were not strangers, drawn together by a hunger which could not be denied. The hunger clamoured as ever before, but now they had a history—past and present and future all fusing together—made flesh by the baby which kicked in her belly.
He drew his mouth away and looked down into her hectic green eyes, shaken by the power of that kiss. ‘God, Catherine,’ he said unsteadily.
Rocked by emotions she scarcely recognised, she shook her head. ‘Just shut up and kiss me again.’
‘Impatient woman,’ he said, almost tenderly.
‘Impatient?’ she demanded incredulously.
‘Shut up, Catherine.’
And their lips met again.
He ran his hand down over the fullness of her breast, alighting with possessive greed on the tight curve of her belly, and groaned against her lips as he felt the seeking urgency of her own.
‘Catherine—sweet, beautiful, swollen Catherine—let me make love to you now.’
‘Swollen’ should not have sounded so erotic to her ears, but it did. More than erotic. But she was so aroused at that moment that if he had started reciting the telephone directory to her then it would have sounded like poetry.
She tore her mouth away with difficulty. ‘Sweet heavens, Finn—I thought you’d never ask!’
Shakily, his hand traced the outline of her face. He cupped it between his hands and dropped soft kisses onto the pale silk of her skin. He wanted long, slow lovemaking, and he knew that he must be gentle with her, but—dear heaven—he felt so hard, so exquisitely hard, that if she had not been pregnant with his child then he might very well have pushed her to the floor and…
That particular memory drew him up with a jolt, and he allowed himself one fleeting and bitter regret that their child had not been conceived in love but in anger. But that did not matter now. What was done was done, and he now had the opportunity to make the kind of long, slow love which a woman like Catherine deserved.
‘Come with me, sweetheart.’
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Somewhere I should have taken you weeks ago.’ It was a bed he wanted, and the nearest would do—which just happened to be Catherine’s room. He spotted a filmy little thong protruding from the top drawer and gave a little shudder as he drew her into the circle of his arms. Could she still wear skimpy underwear like that, even though she was pregnant? He guessed that he was about to find out.
Still holding her with his hands, he pushed her away. ‘I’ve never undressed a pregnant woman before,’ he murmured.
‘I should hope not!’
‘I’ll be very careful,’ he promised, as he peeled her sweater over her head.
She looped her arms around his neck and followed with the nuzzle of her lips. ‘Not too careful, I hope. And besides, it doesn’t matter now!’
He smiled. ‘That wasn’t what I was talking about, and you know it. I meant because you’re pregnant.’
‘Pregnant women are very resilient—or hadn’t you noticed?’
Oh, yes—he’d noticed all right. She wasn’t one of those women who lay around like an invalid, expecting to be waited on. Why, just the other day he had had to forcibly remove a spade from her hand and tell her that it was too cold to be digging. She had become huffy and stomped off, and told him that it was a crime not to foster love on such a beautiful garden.
He sucked in a breath as her body was revealed to him. Her breasts were glorious, ripe and bursting as they pushed against ivory-coloured lace. And the matching lacy thong left very little to the imagination.
‘God,’ he moaned. ‘I’d no idea that a pregnant woman could look so sexy!’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ she offered drily.
He unclipped her bra and the heavy breasts came spilling out. He bent his head and his tongue licked luxuriantly against one hard, dark nipple. Catherine clutched at him, dizzy with the sheer sensation of it.