Page 27 of Beau

“I forced this on you.”

“Still–”

“No. Just let me finish.” She linked their fingers together and stared at the smattering of dark blonde hairs on his flesh. She had spent several hours examining her motives and the way she had gone about getting pregnant. She had used his devotion for her to get her own way.

“I wanted children to the point where it crowded everything else out of my mind.” Her expression turned pleading. “But it has happened darling, and this is an occasion for us to be happy. For us to celebrate. I am not burying my head in the sand and not confronting the risks.

I know they are there, and I am going to do my best to minimize them. I am going to follow the doctors’ instructions to the very letter. I want to live to a ripe old age with you.

A hundred years will never be enough. I want to sit on the porch when we reach our hundredth birthday and admire the sunset. Even if we don’t have anything much to say to each other by then, I just want to sit and hold hands with you. I want to live long enough to enjoy our lives together.”

His eyes bored into hers intimately and she was reminded of the first time they met. He had looked at her that way too and made her weak. Was it any wonder she had fallen in love at the very beginning?

“I do think we will have a lot to say to each other.” His deep voice was slightly amused, his smile softening his lips. “You will probably berate me over some nonsense. The toilet seat, I left up, the spots of urine on the floor. My inability to please you in bed.” He grinned at her wickedly.

Her tapered brows lifted. All was forgiven, he was making jokes and that was all that mattered to her. “You do realize we both will both be incontinent by then, right? And we certainly will not be thinking about sex at all.”

“No?” He tilted his head as he contemplated. “I don’t agree with you. At one hundred years old, you are still going to be as sexy as hell. Probably the sexiest centenarian around.”

“That I agree with," she murmured, inclining her head gracefully. “And you will probably be the only one to be racing me around the living room, demanding sex.”

“More like limping or pushing my mobile.” His expression turned sober. “I love you darling.”

“I know. Make love to me.”

“No.” He drew his hand away from hers and jumped to his feet. “Please don’t do this to me. I mean it, Georgie.” He stood still as she climbed slowly off the bed and came toward him. “We cannot–”

“There is absolutely no reason why we can’t. I am not an invalid, you know, and I need you so much, here.” Taking his hand, she pressed it against her breast. Her moans fired his senses and sent him spinning. “They are super sensitive, and I need your mouth on them, please.”

“Oh Christ!” he whispered.

“I want you to make love to me.”

“Darling–”

“I am not taking no for an answer," she told him raggedly.

With a muttered oath, he took her in his arms with careful restraint. “I will be gentle.”

“Don’t be.”

“You are my pregnant wife; I am going to practice self-control.”

“Good luck with that.” With an impish smile, she shrugged out of her robe and words failed him as usual.

“Two boys and a girl.”

“Hmm?” His head was burrowed on her stomach as he blew soft kisses on her flesh. He was flushed from the lovemaking that had shaken them to the very core. His body was still tingling. He had tried to be gentle, but she made it impossible.

“Our babies. Two boys and a girl.” She combed her fingers through the tousled silk of his hair.

His head lifted to look at her. “Is that a prediction?”

She nodded, her eyes dancing merrily. “I have the gift.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm.” Her fingers trailed over his firm jaw. “You need a shave. I could do the honors.”