“Jen-ny,” he said warningly.
“Well, maybe—”
“Jenny!” His stage whisper shut her up. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? They’re together. You’ve had romantic stars in your eyes for them ever since they came through the door of this house. Now be quiet so Baby and I can go back to sleep.”
“Baby wasn’t sleeping,” Jenny grumbled. “She was kicking.”
“Here, scooch back this way.” Cage nudged her into the curve of his body where she snuggled, her back to his chest. He laid his hand on her swollen tummy and massaged it gently.
“You know,” he commented, as his hand idly moved over her, “I sorta envy ol’ Linc.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say to a fat, pregnant wife!”
“’Fraid I’ll go tomcatting around?” She poked him in the ribs with her elbow and he yelped beneath his breath. “You didn’t let me finish. I sorta envy him. I envy him the fun of the chase. But I wouldn’t trade where we are now with where they are in their relationship.”
“Me neither.”
“Getting you in my house and in my bed was no small feat. Of course anything worth having is worth working for.”
“I told Kerry practically the same thing today.”
They were comfortable in their love for each other. But it still held elements of excitement, as demonstrated moments later when Cage asked, “Baby asleep?”
“Uh-huh, but mama’s wide awake.” Jenny turned to face him. “Kiss me.”
“We shouldn’t, Jenny. It’s too dangerous now.”
“Nothing else. Just a kiss. Kiss me, Cage. And make it count.”
“Are you asleep?”
Kerry sighed deeply. “I think I’m dead.”
Mischievously Linc blew gently on one of her breasts and, to his supreme delight and amusement, the nipple pearled. “You’re not dead.”
She pried her eyes open and looked at him slumbrously. She was lying on her back. He was lying on his stomach beside her, propped up on his elbows and staring down at her.
“Do I look frightful?”
“Is this the woman who tramped through the jungle without so much as a lipstick or a hairbrush, worrying now about her appearance?”
“Do I?”
“Sexily mussed.” He kissed her lightly. “Which is the best way a woman can look.”
“Chauvinist.”
“Besides, why should you care about your appearance now when you didn’t in the jungle?”
“I wasn’t sleeping with you then.”
“Not for lack of me trying. And actually I did sleep with you. Remember the night under the vine?”
“You weren’t my lover then.”
“Remember the night under the vine?” he repeated, forcing her to look at him. She nodded. “Did you know that if a man could die of arousal that would have been my deathbed?” She laughed and he frowned. “It’s not funny.”
“I know. Because I was suffering, too.”