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‘I love loving you so much,’ he told her simply. ‘No woman has ever meant to me what you do, Sophy, or ever will. I could have wept when you told me that you weren’t fully a woman. I could have killed Benson for what he had done to you. You were too inexperienced to even realise what he had done. How he had pushed his own inadequacies off on to you.’
‘You made me a woman, Jon,’ she told him huskily, feeling his body tense against her and thrilling to the vibrant masculinity of it. Only one thing still troubled her, creasing her forehead as she said hesitantly, ‘Jon, just now when I said I might be pregnant you seemed pleased but you threatened to put the children into care. You...’
‘I gambled that their supposed plight would push you into marrying me far faster than any amount of reasoned argument,’ he admitted wryly, ‘but believe me I would never have done it. They’re my brother’s children, Sophy, and I love them very much, just as I shall love our own very much...but never quite as much as I love you.’
Beneath him her body quivered and she reached up to wrap her arms round him, her voice breaking slightly as she murmured, ‘Make love to me please, Jon. Show me that this isn’t all some impossible dream.’
‘No dream, but reality,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘The reality of our love.’
* * * * *
