“That’s totally unsuitable.”
“Let’s talk it over with your mother, shall we? I think she’ll agree with me.”
“Of course you think that! Has any female ever not agreed with you?” she said with a groan.
“You, love,” he teased. “Is there anything else bothering you?”
It was obvious that she wasn’t getting anywhere with him. She sat down and twined her fingers together, watching him with somber dark eyes. “I’ve been thinking about my job. I realize that it’s only reasonable that I leave the company after we’re married, and I certainly haven’t been there long enough to get attached to the job, but I do want to continue working somewhere.”
He watched her in silence for a moment, as if trying to read her thoughts. “If that will make you happy,” he finally said in a gentle tone. “I want you to be happy with our marriage, not trapped in a gilded cage.”
She was wordless; he’d never suffered from self-doubt, so how could she tell him that she wasn’t worried about herself being happy but rather that he wouldn’t be happy with her? He sat down beside her and eased her into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. “Don’t worry about any of that, love. Let our mothers worry about the wedding, and we’ll just enjoy watching them run about. I expect we’ll have our share of problems after we’re married, but let’s not anticipate them, hmmm? They may never materialize.”
Whenever he had her in his arms, Claire felt reassured. Her hand drifted across his chest, absently stroking the hard muscles she found there. Beneath her ear his heartbeat picked up a beat in speed.
“I believe we’ve found another subject that needs discussing,” he muttered as he tightened his arms around her. “How likely is it that you’re pregnant after last night?”
She caught her breath then concentrated and counted in her mind. “It isn’t likely, not right now.”
His mouth nuzzled under her ear, finding the soft little hollow there and filling it with kisses. Claire caught her breath again, her eyes closing as pleasure began heating her blood. Her breasts tautened, aching for his touch, and his uncanny sense of timing told him exactly when to cup his palm over her.
“I’ll be more cautious until after we’re married, then, but I damned well refuse to do without you for six weeks.” His mouth was at the corner of hers, his breathing mingling with hers. Blindly Claire turned her head until the contact was complete, her arms sliding around his neck.
Much later he swore softly as he got out of bed. “I’m not fond of this business of leaving you in the middle of the night,” he said in sharp displeasure. “Why don’t you move in with me?”
Claire drew the sheet up to cover her, a little alarmed by the thought of living with him. Of course they would live together after they were married, but she would have six weeks to get used to the idea. She had lived alone and liked it for quite some time now. The loss of privacy wouldn’t be an easy thing to handle. “Where would I put my furniture?”
“Don’t be logical,” he said in frustration, buttoning his shirt. “Bloody hell, we do have some details to work out, don’t we? Would you prefer to live in my apartment, or should we go house hunting?”
“I’ve never seen your apartment,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “I suppose we should begin looking for a house, as we’ll need one eventually.”
For the children he planned, she thought. She lay on the bed watching him dress, her body nude and still throbbing from the power of his lovemaking, and she thought of being pregnant with his children, of nursing them and watching them grow. “How many children do you want?” she whispered.
He looked down at her, seeing her soft, slim body outlined by the sheet, and the dark wells of her eyes. His hands stilled on the buttons. “Two, I think. Perhaps three. How many do you want?”
“That doesn’t matter. I would be content with one, or half a dozen.” No, the number wasn’t important at all.
Slowly he began undoing his buttons and stripped off his shirt again. Tossing it aside, he unzipped his pants and stepped out of them. “You make me react like a teenager,” he said, his eyes narrow and bright. Lowering himself onto the bed with her again, he forgot the irritation of living apart, and Claire forgot to worry. When he was making love to her, nothing else was real.
* * *
Instead of making the long drive to Houston, they flew down that Friday afternoon, and Max rented a car at the airport. It was already night, but the humid heat enveloped them like a wet blanket, and Claire sighed tiredly. It had been a hectic week, though they hadn’t really done anything. But, rather than wait for the weekend, Alma had called every night about some detail that had to be discussed immediately.
She closed her eyes, wanting to rest on the drive to her parents’ house. As excited as Alma was, Claire had no hope of getting to bed before midnight—there would be endless discussions about subjects they had already discussed endlessly.
“
We’re here, love,” Max said, touching her arm to wake her.
Claire sat up, startled that she had dozed so quickly. She started to get out of the car, then sank back against the seat. “We aren’t at Mother’s.”
“No, we aren’t,” he agreed, taking her hand and urging her from the car.
“You kept the apartment?”
“It seemed reasonable. I knew I would have to be coming here on business several times a year, and we’ll be visiting your parents. Until the original tenant returns, I see no reason to give it up.”