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‘Couples do more than share the same bed. Couples have disagreements, they worry, they fight,’ he said, before he could pull the words back.
He smoothed a hand across his forehead, but knew the deep frown lines grew deeper.
She didn’t blink at his choice of word. She counter-attacked without hesitation. ‘Couples trust each other,’ she corrected. ‘My mother and father—’
‘This has nothing to do with your parents. It is about us navigating our way to a wedding. Marriage. The birth of our child.’
‘You say you haven’t had a long-term relationship. Neither have I. But my parents... Of course they quarrel about the small things—and the big things. But they trust each other. Support each other. They don’t chase each other across one hundred acres of field just because one gets up early and goes off somewhere on the farm. They don’t think the other one is in danger because it rains and they can’t see them.’
Her freckled nose wrinkled.
‘Because at the end of the day,’ she continued, ‘my parents sleep in the same bed.’
He heard the tremble in her words. He wanted to press his mouth to her, steady that tremble. Swallow the pain he’d inflicted and put it back where it belonged. Inside him.Contained.
‘That’s a couple,’ she said. ‘They’re a couple. I don’t know what we are—what we can be when you’ve let everything I told you about my past turn you into a wild man searching for a person who wasn’t lost just because it was raining.’
‘It’s a storm.’
He tugged her closer until she was pushed against his chest. The warmth rocked him to the core. The instant flare of need.
Mine.
The word roared through every vein. Every brain synapse.
Safe.
That word hummed in its wake.
He dipped his head lower. ‘Not once did your past cross my mind when I couldn’t find you,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘Not once did I think of the stories you’ve shared with me since I came into your life on the farm. Not once did I worry about what your parents fear—whatyoufear—about your past.’
And he hadn’t. His worry had been purely selfish. Driven by his need to know that she was safe, that she was protected.
She arched her neck defiantly to meet his gaze dead-on.‘Liar...’
The whisper of her breath teased at his lips. Hardening him.Everywhere.
‘Why would I lie?’ he growled.
‘Whywouldn’tyou?’ She flicked the pink tip of her tongue over her lips. ‘You want this marriage because of the baby. And you need me to gain both. But you don’twantme.’
He knew he had made her believe that. It had helped him stay in control. But now he had to be honest. With himself...with her.
‘I want marriage,’ he agreed. ‘I want our baby, too.’
Their gazes clashed. Locked. Hers was a sad glare of triumph. His pulsed with a need to tell the truth. So he did.
‘But I have never stopped wanting you.’
His confession was a low growl of truth. Of honesty. They’d spent the last four days connecting like normal people. Acting like a couple.
‘You want me?’ she repeated, slicing through his internal justification of what was happening to him. Tothem.
‘And what doyouwant,piccolina?’
‘Does it matter?’ Her eyes flashed fire. ‘You don’t trust me.’
Attraction.Desire.It simmered beneath the surface. His unwavering need to be inside her. But she deserved the truth. A truth he could no longer deny. A truth he would not deny her any longer—because she was right.
