Page 62 of The Midwife's Child

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There was a brief pause as he remembered to protect her and then he gave a rough exclamation and slipped a hand under her bottom, drawing her towards him. Their breath mingled and her eyes locked with his as he entered her with one deep thrust, their mutual desperation a primitive force that swept them along in its path.

There was no holding back, no question of control. Six years without each other had left them both starving for the touch of the other. Brooke felt him drive into her, filling her completely with each thrust, his powerful male body dominating and possessing her.

‘I love you…’ His voice fractured slightly as they moved together, and she sobbed his name, feeling her body spiralling out of control and bursting with the intensity of feeling that consumed her.

At the same time he stiffened, the spasms contracting his body as he cried out her name and then dropped his head on her shoulder, his breathing erratic. For what seemed like ages he held her like that, and then he lifted his dark head.

‘God, Brooke…’ The expression in his blue eyes was stunned. ‘Tell me I didn’t hurt you, sweetheart.’

She gave him a shy smile and stroked his damp forehead with the tips of her fingers.

‘You didn’t hurt me. Couldn’t you tell?’

He closed his eyes briefly and dropped a gentle kiss on her mouth. ‘I don’t know what you do to me but it’s scary.’

She stared into his eyes, longing for him to tell her again that he loved her, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave a groan and muttered that he was too heavy for her, shifting his body across the bed and curling her into his side.

Brooke placed a hand on his hard chest, feeling his heartbeat racing under her fingertips. It was just the circumstances, she told herself, trying not to feel disappointed. She knew he didn’t love her really. All men probably said things like that when they made love. She mustn’t read anything into it.

Determined not to spoil the moment, she closed her eyes, loving the male smell of him that tantalised her senses, loving how safe it made her feel, feeling the hard muscle of his arm under her cheek. Her hand crept down his body and he gave a low murmur of protest, turning his head so that his eyes gleamed gently into hers.

‘I was letting you rest…’

It had been six years! She didn’t want to rest.

Her mouth curved into a womanly smile and in one swift movement she was sitting astride him, his hands holding the soft curve of her bottom.

‘Never look at me like that unless you mean it,’ he said gruffly, and she lowered her lids slightly, her dark eyes teasing.

‘I mean it, Mr Matthews.’

His deep breath in was decidedly unsteady. ‘Well, in that case…’

* * *

When Brooke awoke it was morning and she was alone in the bed. She sat up, raked her tangled dark hair away from her face and then heard clattering in the kitchen. Was he going to surprise her with breakfast? She smiled sleepily. Maybe she’d surprise him first.

Padding across the landing in her bare feet, she started to walk down the stairs but froze as she heard the doorbell ring.

Who on earth was calling at this hour? Retreating to the top of the stairs, she hovered anxiously, hoping there wasn’t a problem with Toby. Had he been homesick? Had something happened? No, of course not. They would have phoned if there’d been a problem.

‘Jed, I need to talk to you.’ The caller was male and Brooke could just make out Jed’s muttered response.

‘Tom, this isn’t a good time.’

It was Tom?

About to retreat to the bedroom and leave them to have their conversation in private, Brooke froze as Tom mentioned her name.

‘That is none of your business, little brother.’ Whatever Tom had said had obviously angered Jed, but Tom wasn’t giving an inch, his voice rising.

‘You have to marry her, Jed!’

‘Keep out of it, Tom!’ Jed’s voice was a threatening growl and the front door opened as Tom obviously prepared to make his escape.

‘You have no choice and you know it! Why not just admit that this time you’ve been well and truly caught?’

Brooke didn’t wait to hear Jed’s reply but instead dashed along the landing to the sanctuary of her own room, bolting the door behind her.


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