Wicked Mourning by Heather Boyd Page B

shocking her with his touch, he’d managed to make her happy. Beneath their joined hands, the frolicsome babe kicked again and then grew still.
    After some minutes, Reggie wondered if the child would move again.
    “Ah, my little scamp is resting. He has kicked a treat this morning.”
    “He does this every day?”
    Clara nodded, a dreamy sigh escaping again. “And often at the most inopportune times.”
    As he moved his hand on her spine in small circles, Clara leaned closer. He shifted his weight, pressing close against her belly and kept up the steady pressure. When his hand slipped lower, Clara arched her back and a moan escaped her lips.
    Beneath the bulk of her belly, hidden from her view by the child she carried, evidence of his attraction to Clara grew beyond his power to control. He wanted her with such a fierce ache that he couldn’t breathe.
    Reggie dropped his head to her shoulder and, after a moment, he turned his lips against her skin. Clara, perhaps forgetting who held her, arched her neck so he might have unfettered access. Reggie took his time, pressing light kisses up the column of her throat, nuzzling her ear and then gently tugging the lobe with his teeth.
    Clara clutched at his lapels, a contented hum purring from her lips. Reggie drew her body as hard against him as he could manage and pressed his lips to hers. Clara’s eyes widened. But then she kissed him back, she let him have his way with her lips, destroying all his imaginings of their first kiss.
    She tasted like sweet sunshine and the darkest claret. A combination that went to his head in moments and reduced his resolve to scattered ash. He claimed her mouth again and swept his tongue between her parted lips.
    Clara made an impatient noise and bumped awkwardly against him. He hadn’t considered the unborn child between them in any of his fantasies so he was unsure of how to draw her any closer. He swept one hand over her back and cupped her skull with the other.
    Clara drew back, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
    Clutching her tight against him, he walked them to his bed, laid her down upon the counterpane and crawled over her prone body. “I must be sorely out of practice if you must ask me. I’m making love to you.”
    Careful to keep his weight from crushing the babe she carried, he hovered over, letting his kisses reduce them both to mindless moaning creatures. All he wanted was to cherish her and put an end to this unfulfilled craving.
    Clara pushed at his shoulders. “Reggie, please? Be serious.”
    He drew back, catching her bewildered stare and feeling, only momentarily, like the worst sort of cad. “I am completely in earnest, my love. We have both mourned long enough. We both have needs and I am eager to satisfy every one of yours.”
    Clara gaped at him. “You truly mean to make love to me? But why?”
    He laughed a little at her confusion. “Do you see any other stunningly beautiful women lying about my country estate? Of course I want to make love to you. I’ve thought of little else since you moved in.”
    He let her digest that for a bare moment before he captured her lips again.
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Clara’s head spun as her best friend pressed her deeper into the mattress and kissed her witless. Any moment she’d awaken from this pleasant daydream—hot, flushed and overly excited—and have to pretend that she was perfectly happy with her sexless existence as a widow and expectant mother.
    Yet Reggie moaned softly as he swept his tongue deep into her mouth. She hadn’t ever imagined that before. She opened her eyes to find his dark head bent over hers, his lips pressing ardent kisses to her skin, his hot breath dancing upon her nerves.
    Clara clutched his head, frustrated that her big, ungainly body refused to mould to Reggie’s as she wanted. For now, she’d be content with whatever small pleasures might come her way. Reggie rolled onto his side and pulled her toward him, and his fingers curved around