Page 1 of Like You Love Me

Chapter 1

“D

on’t even think about it,” London warned in a deep baritone voice.

Bianca Beaumont Brown gazed at her husband’s hardened jaw and squared shoulders and knew there was no point in upsetting him, so with an audible breath, she lowered her hand from the door handle.

London Brown walked around and opened the door to his H2 Hummer. Leaning forward, he scooped his wife up into his arms. “London, I can walk,” Bianca insisted and pressed a palm against his solid chest.

“Not on my watch.” He had that stern, protective look in his eyes. London pushed open the door leading from the garage, shut it with his foot, then carried her through the mudroom and across the kitchen.

Home, she thought, breathing it in. It felt amazing to be back safe at home. As he moved with vast purposeful strides, Bianca’s eyes perused the kitchen with a custom island large enough for six barstools, quartz countertops, and a massive golden hood over a commercial-size gas stove. Everything was clean and orderly, just the way she hoped it would be. However, holiday decorations still filled every room. As London took her through the family room and toward the foyer, her gaze strayed to a fourteen-foot Christmas tree that still stood in the corner.

“Happy freaking New Year’s,” she muttered under her breath.

London carried Bianca up the stairs, practically taking them two at a time. Her eyes travel back to his handsome dark-brown face. “You’re not as young as you used to be, so take it easy,” she teased.

His light brown eyes met hers, and a slow, sexy smile parted his lips. “I still have a few good years left.”

Bianca’s body sparked with desire as she thought about her husband’s stamina when making love to her. “Yes, I agree.” There was nothing wrong with his energy. London was in peak condition.

He carried her down the plush carpeted hallway to a pair of double mahogany doors. Bianca turned the knob to the master suite that started at a sitting room with a marina blue sofa and navy and beige side chairs that led into a large bedroom with a coffer tray ceiling over a king-sized bed. London gently lowered his wife to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“I feel fine,” she lied and tried to keep the pain at bay as she eased down onto the silver bedspread.

“I want you undressed and under the covers,” London ordered.

“I just got out of the hospital,” she protested and pulled her hands free of a pair of leather gloves. “The last thing I want to do is get back in bed.”

“Sorry, Charlie. Doctor’s orders. You are to rest for the next few days.” London said as he yanked a brown knitted cap from his head.

Bianca stuck out her lower lip and pouted but knew it was useless. He would fight her all the way.

“Just let your man take care of you. Okay?”

Bianca drew a breath and nodded in agreement when she caught London watching her. She knew he made sense. “Okay, I’ll try to relax.”

“Good.” Leaning forward, London brushed a kiss across her mouth. His lips were warm and gentle and still made her toes tingle even after all these years. She wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.

London kissed her once more, then drew back and winked. “Now, get undressed; otherwise, I’m going to undress you,” he warned.

“I like that idea better,” she purred.

London grunted under his breath. “Dr. Charles told me to behave myself while you heal, so I don’t need you tempting me, woman.”

“You’re no fun.”

He smiled down at her. “Sweetheart, once he says it’s safe, as your husband, I plan on taking full advantage.”

While laughing, Bianca shrugged out of the leather coat. London took it and carried it over to a massive walk-in closet and disappeared inside. She turned her head and gazed out the window.

The house was a two-story structure with floor-to-ceiling glass and oceanfront views. Down below, a blanket of fresh snow covered the ground. She glanced up at the steel-gray skies where thick heavy flakes were still falling. She had missed New Year’s Day, and instead, spent the holiday in the hospital. Memories of the ordeal sent an icy shiver down her spine.

“It’s coming down out there again,” he said, breaking her away from her thoughts.

She turned to look at London as he stepped out of the closet, looking tall and handsome. Beneath a black bomber jacket, he wore a navy-blue thermal t-shirt that clung to every muscle of his broad chest and powerful biceps.

“Once I know you’re settled and comfortable, I’m going to go and clear snow from the driveway.”