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He glances at me. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“You’ve got that look in your eye,” he says.
“What look?”
“You know what look. You’re thinking about me naked, aren’t you?”
“To be honest, right now I don’t care whether your clothes are on or off.”
His lips curve up. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Chevalier?”
“Supercharged.” I reach up and touch my lips to his. “Are we now on our honeymoon?”
“Yeah, I reckon.”
“In that case… I do admit, I’m feeling a little frisky. And I’m thinking we should have married sex and see if it’s any different from singleton sex.”
“Sounds like a great idea, I’m in.”
We laugh, and he puts his arm around me. We’ve reached Pompallier House, and we stop and look at the board out the front. Apparently it was the headquarters of the French Catholic mission to the Western Pacific. We also drove past Christ Church on our way into the village, which Saxon told me is New Zealand’s oldest surviving church. “It’s strange being so surrounded by history here,” I murmur.
“If you think this is old, you’re going to love England,” he says.
My eyebrows rise. “England?”
“Yeah. I was thinking that if Titus decides to stay in the UK, it would be cool to visit him and Heidi, when the twins are a bit bigger. I’d love to see the Tower of London, and Stonehenge, and Hadrian’s Wall, and Bath. What do you think?”
“Mmm, I don’t know. I’ve never thought about traveling before. I think I’d be scared stiff.”
“Most people are at first. The UK is a good place to start, because our cultures are very similar—they speak the same language and drive on the same side of the road. It’s when you go to places like France and Italy that it becomes scary—a different language, different customs. But it’s odd; after a few days something switches inside you, and you just sort of take it in your stride and throw yourself into it. It happens to most people I know who’ve traveled.”
I can’t imagine it happening to me, but I smile and nod, happy to bow to his superior knowledge. I know I’d be scared of tackling something as big as a trip across the world, but with Saxon by my side, I’m beginning to think I can handle anything.
“You and Izzy seemed to get along well,” he says.
“She’s lovely. And it was nice to spend a while talking about babies. She’d had a cesarean, and she told me a bit about what happens during it.”
“Yeah, I guess we should be prepared that you might need one.”
“It’s not set in stone,” I say. “Apparently it depends on a few things—whether the leading twin is cephalic—which means head down, with its chin tucked into its chest, and facing the mother’s back, because that allows for the easiest delivery.”
He smiles at me. “It’s great to hear that you’ve been reading about it.”
“Knowledge is power, right? I’ve spent too long being scared and thinking that if I ignore things that frighten me, they’ll go away. I’m not going to be like that anymore.”
He stops and takes my face in his hands. “I love you, Mrs. Chevalier.”
“And I love you, Mr. Chevalier.”
We look into each other’s eyes. He’s so handsome. And so young and fit and gorgeous. Oh my God, I want him so badly. Should I just say so?
“I know this is a romantic moment,” he says, “but I’m feeling really horny. Can we go back to the hotel?”
“Oh wow, yes please. I was too embarrassed to ask.”
Laughing, and holding hands, we walk at a fast pace back to the hotel, run up the central staircase, and stride along to our room.
