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He chuckled. ‘Tough.’
To think he’d once found it so hard to say the words to her.
He was so far removed from that man now— he could barely remember him. The man who’d hidden his resentment and his loneliness and his inadequacy behind a veneer of arrogance and lazy charm, and had been so terrified of commitment he’d refused to nurture the simplest of relationships. Cassie had come into his life and changed everything. In the space of three years all the fear and anger and guilt of his childhood had faded to be replaced by a happiness, a contentment, a companionship he had never even believed existed. She was his soul mate, his kindred spirit and every wet dream he’d ever had—all rolled into one.
Because he knew how lucky he was to have found her. He told Cassie he loved her whenever he felt like it now. Which was so damn often, he was in danger of becoming a Hallmark card. But he didn’t care. Because it was the truth. And if telling her made her putty in his hands—well, that was just a nice fringe benefit, which he was more than prepared to use whenever the need arose.
Slinging an arm over her shoulder, he directed her away from Selfridges’ imposing art deco facade and hailed a cab, secure in the knowledge that he’d won. For now.
‘Come on.’ He hugged her, kissed the top of her hair. ‘This store has been here close to a century. It’ll still be here on Boxing Day. I promise.’
Cassie snuggled under Jace’s arm as he shouted out their destination to the taxi driver and let his warmth wrap around her. She flexed her feet in her boots, her arches screaming in agony, rubbed her hand over her belly where the baby had finally stopped punching her and felt exhaustion wash over her.
‘You’re having a nap when we get back to the suite,’ Jace declared in that dictatorial tone that he’d been using rather too often recently, as he settled back into the seat and drew her into his arms.
She glanced up to encounter his stern no-nonsense look—and took a deep breath. The clean scent of his soap invaded her senses as his heartbeat hammered under her palm. The familiar flutter of desire pulsed deep in her sex, as love made her heart fly off into the cosmos. She cocked an eyebrow at him, then let her palm drift down the worn, whisper-soft cashmere and felt his abdominal muscles tense beneath.
Gotcha.
‘I’m only having a nap if you have one with me,’ she murmured. He might have sucker punched her with that declaration of love—something he’d become remarkably adept at doing, she’d noticed—but she wasn’t a complete pushover. And she knew just how to sucker punch him right back.
He gave a soft half-laugh. ‘No way. You’re sleeping this afternoon.’ He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. ‘No hanky-panky until those shadows under your eyes have gone.’
‘Jace,’ she said, letting her fingers delve under the cashmere to encounter the lightly furred skin of his flat belly. ‘You really don’t want to deny a pregnant lady when she’s tired and horny—or she may get cranky.’
Swearing softly, he grasped her hand, halting its descent under his belt, but she’d already seen the flash of desire in his eyes, and the muscle tense in his jaw, which signalled his arousal. And she knew she had him.
She grinned. ‘And mind-blowing orgasms always help me sleep more soundly, so it’s your duty to supply one.’
‘You little …’ he muttered, gripping her fingers and bringing them to his mouth. He kissed the knuckles, his gaze alight with laughter and dark with lust. ‘All right, damn it. Have it your way. We’ll take the nap together.’
‘With full hanky-panky privileges,’ she clarified. The swell of love and contentment squeezed her heart as arousal stampeded through her system.
She adored this man so much. His honesty, his integrity, his sense of humour, his surly, sexy magnetism and that protective instinct that made her feel so safe and so secure. But most of all she adored the fact that she could love him without having to hold any piece of herself back, because she knew she could trust him to do the same.
She could still remember the first time he’d actually told her he loved her. And she’d made a huge fuss, because she could see how big a deal it had been for him—being able to trust his feelings enough to say the words. But the truth was, she had never needed to hear him say them—even though they had the power to melt her into a
n emotional puddle every time he’d said them since—because it was the love those three simple words represented that mattered. And he’d already shown her, in so many ways, that she already had that.
‘You can have full hanky-panky privileges,’ he agreed as his hand settled on her thigh, making the silk of her dress slide over sensitised skin. ‘Within reason.’ He slanted his lips across hers, gave her a deep, seeking kiss that promised at least one mind-blowing orgasm before naptime.
He smiled down at her as he pulled away. ‘Consider it an early Christmas present, Mrs Ryan. But be warned, I plan to seduce you into a coma—and once I’m done with you, you’re going to want to sleep for a week.’
She giggled at the seductive boast. ‘And miss Christmas tomorrow? I don’t think so. But you have my permission to give it your best shot.’
‘Don’t worry, I intend to.’
As the cab pulled up at the entrance to The Chesterton, the sparkle of Christmas lights in the winter greenery reminded her of the first time she’d arrived at the luxury hotel, in a wet coat and muddy boots, with Nessa’s saucy suggestion that she find herself a candy man turning her head.
Paying the driver and stepping out of the cab, the man who had become so much more to her than that hauled out her many bags of shopping and passed them to the waiting doorman with instructions to have them sent to their suite.
As Jace ducked back into the cab to offer her his hand her heart fluttered at the devastating smile on his face. ‘Come on, lover, your candy coma awaits,’ he joked, as if he had read her thoughts.
She laughed as she placed her fingers on his rough palm and let him lead her out of the cab. But as she walked up the steps, his arm secure around her waist, emotion welled up in her throat. The thrill of the night ahead, the thought of the Christmas celebrations to come tomorrow, the wonder of the new life growing inside her and the exciting promise of what her future held with Jace by her side soon had the emotion overwhelming her, and making the fairy lights blur.
‘Hey, now.’ He stopped on the top step, pushed her chin up to examine her face. ‘What’s with the waterworks?’ he asked, concern shadowing his eyes. ‘No crying allowed. It’s Christmas tomorrow. That’s your favourite day of the year.’
‘They’re happy tears, you twit.’ She nudged him with her elbow. ‘And FYI, Christmas isn’t my favourite day any more,’ she said, sniffing back the silly tears that had become a constant companion ever since she’d become pregnant. ‘Now I have you, every day is.’
