Luc frowned. “Aunts, uncles, cousins?”

She shook her head. In truth, she hadn’t thought about them in years. She hadn’t dared contact them. Her cousins were likely married, had children. Her aunt Anna was probably retired from teaching school.

“None. Could we drop it?”

He looked ready to say something, then closed his mouth. A long, silent minute passed before he finally said, “If you ever want to tell me about your family, I’d love to listen.”

“You said yourself we needed to look forward, not back. I think that’s an excellent suggestion.”

Sighing, Luc gripped the wheel. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much lunch.”

No, but she was starting to feel weak. Since becoming pregnant, she’d noticed that she couldn’t skip meals the way she used to. And most days until about two, she lived on crackers and apple juice.

“I should eat.”

He smiled. “I’ll take care of it.”

Like he’d taken care of things this week. Most men would simply have asked when to show up. Instead, he’d arranged the invitations, luncheon, cake, rings, photographer. She’d barely mentioned the things on her to-do list before they were done. Alyssa couldn’t fault his taste. Everything had been elegant, likely chosen to please his reserved parents. She’d had only to buy a dress off the rack and order flowers.

She nibbled the inside of her cheek. She’d feel so much better if she could just figure out why he married her. Just for the baby . . . or something more.

“We haven’t had a chance to really talk about the baby.” He broke the silence again. “How has the pregnancy been so far?”

A safer topic. “Other than being really tired, not bad. The vitamins are finally helping. I’m doing better about getting in my fruits and vegetables at dinner. Can’t eat much the rest of the day so far. I don’t have morning sickness, but food sounds bad until later in the afternoon.”

“You’ll tell me if that changes.”

It wasn’t a question, but she couldn’t miss the concern in his voice. She should pull back and protect herself . . . but that voice warmed her too much. “I will.”

A few minutes later, they reached a bed-and-breakfast in a nearby town. The sun was setting on the grand old brick house and the surrounding cottages that stood in the distance. It was gorgeous, reminiscent of a bygone era. Romantic. Her heart caught.

Theirs was a marriage of convenience and unrequited love. He’d done so much already and brought her here for a real wedding night . . . The man overwhelmed her. Which was stupid. He was probably just making the best of their situation. Still, tears stung her eyes.

She breathed, trying to suppress her feelings. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Luc parked in the driveway. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, it was with a big brass key ring; then he drove down the dirt road behind the main house to a little blue cottage with a quaint little porch, complete with rocking chairs. The sign on the door read SWEET SURRENDER.

Alyssa’s stomach curled up tighter. Her pulse rocketed.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Before she could peek in, Luc swept her up into his arms. She shrieked.

“Tradition,” he chided, then carried her in, kicking the door shut behind him.

Inside, the cottage had a homey feel, braided rugs over aged hardwood floors. Wainscoting and cheerful paint covered the walls. Quilts, lacy drapes, and country-style furniture all added charm.

He set her down on a distressed leather sofa, then knelt to remove her shoes, his palms lingering on her calves. She shivered at the heat in his eyes.

“I can tell you didn’t sleep much last night. Rest. I’ll fix dinner.”

No one but Luc had ever taken care of her like this, and it was heaven. She should balk, insist on doing for herself. But this special treatment likely wouldn’t last, and leaning on him was so tempting.

“Close your eyes,” he demanded.

Finally, she complied. If the past was any indicator, she’d need all the energy she could get for later.

Minutes later, she woke when he set chicken pasta and a salad brimming with vegetables in front of her. As with every day this past week, by dinnertime, she was famished and demolished every bite. “That was incredible.”

Luc finished off his own plate. “I have dessert, if you’re ready.”

Amazing . . . “When did you make all this?”

“This morning. Deke and Kimber delivered it earlier.”

He’d thought of everything—and gone the extra mile to make it special. Again, the ever-present question slammed her brain: Why?

Without waiting for her reply, he rose and disappeared to the little kitchen. He returned moments later with a bottle of champagne and one flute, popped the cork, and poured. She supposed he was drinking without her, since she couldn’t have the alcohol. Before he took a sip, he disappeared again, then returned with two heaping cups of chocolate mousse and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries.

“That looks scrumptious. You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.”

“Since I only plan to be married once, I did.” He looked solemn as he picked up the glass to toast her. “To a beautiful bride and the beginning of our lives together.”

Ask or leave it alone?

“Do you really believe that, Luc? Other than the fact I’m carrying your child, we have nothing in common but great sex.”

Luc raised a dark brow and fingered the rim of the glass for a long moment. “When you were driving to Dallas last week, were you at all excited to see me? Had you missed me even a bit?”

Alyssa hesitated. But why lie when she sought the truth? “Yes.”

“I’d missed you, and when you walked through the door, I was damn glad you were there. There’s . . . something between us.”

Her breath caught. Hope rose. Was it possible he could someday fall in love with her?

What are the chances, really?

Hope crashed. It almost hurt too much, but she couldn’t shake the fear. Like a splinter in her psyche, it festered. When had anyone ever wanted her beyond the bump and grind?

She had to stop borrowing tomorrow’s trouble and live in today’s moment. Despite his vows and words to the contrary, all too soon, he could be gone.

Luc raised his glass and took a sip, savoring the champagne. Then he frowned. “This could be better.”

“In what way?”

His sensual mouth lifted in a smile. “It would taste better on you.”

That was all the warning Alyssa got before Luc dipped his finger in his glass, then traced the liquid over her lips. She barely had a moment to smell the tang, feel the tickle of the bubbles, before Luc rose over her, eyes a blazing black, before he devoured her in a scorching kiss.

Air left her body in a rush of sizzle and need. She swayed toward him, and he pulled her in tighter, slanting his lips over hers again and sinking deep into her. So deep. It was as if the last seven weeks of separation had never happened. Her body knew him, dampened, ached, opened, yearned.

Moaning, Luc pressed closer, conquering the last of her resistance and wits with his fervent kiss. Without conscious thought, her hands found their way into his hair, tied neatly at his nape. She needed to bury her fingers in it the same way she needed to bury her senses in his scent.

Suddenly, he pulled away and traced more champagne on her lips. Now they tingled and trembled, and she couldn’t wait to feel his mouth over hers again. Luc didn’t disappoint, tasting her, drinking from her as if he’d never get enough.

Alyssa wondered if she ever would.

“I need more of you,” he demanded, peeling off her suit coat and attacking the buttons of her blouse. “Now.”

His gaze remained riveted on her, a searing promise of ecstasy to come, a silent declaration of his intent to satisfy her until she was boneless and whimpering. Already she trembled. Desire throbbed between her legs. Blood scalded her veins. She couldn’t wait to feel him skin to skin, surging deep inside her until she knew nothing but the pounding pulse of desire and the wild surge of climax overtaking her body and inhibitions.

Next, he tore into her bra, yanked away her skirt, and shredded her thong with his hands. Now completely naked and at the mercy of a man who appeared to have none, Alyssa throbbed.

“Undress,” she rasped, reaching for his coat.

He shook off her request, then reached for a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Open.”

Arguing with that forceful command seemed impossible. As soon as her lips parted, he placed the sweet fruit on her tongue. Flavor burst across her senses, and she bit into its succulence, melting most of the chocolate on her tongue. Sipping champagne, Luc watched, his gaze smoldering.

The second she swallowed, he was all over her again, his mouth forcing hers open under the crush of his. The chocolate met the bubbly wine on her tongue. The flavors entwined to create something irresistible. Pressing closer, she ate at his mouth, needing more, and he gave, delving into her endlessly. She gasped.

Moments later, he was gone, reaching for the nearby table. “Mousse?”

Panting, unable to answer, Alyssa stared as Luc picked up a cup and spooned a bite into her mouth.

Oh, dear God! That man could create the most amazing flavors. She closed her eyes and moaned. When she opened them, he was swallowing another sip of champagne—and swooping down for another kiss.

This time, she anticipated the flavors, the rich, lingering taste, now creamy and smooth and addicting. Every time his tongue brushed hers, the flavor of the bubbly wine added the perfect tang to the sweet decadence of the dessert.

She grabbed his shoulders to rid him of the jacket and pull him closer. He edged away, then grabbed the mousse once more.

He tossed the spoon aside, and it landed with a clatter on the table. Alyssa flinched, but the sound didn’t register with him. He simply shoved two fingers into the smooth confection and scooped some out.

“Wha-what are you doing?”

Dizzy, overwhelmed, she could barely catch a breath. He’d kissed her, stripped her bare, and already she was in danger of losing her head completely. And she didn’t care. Now she just needed more of this volatile ride to pleasure only he could deliver.

Luc spread her out on the sofa, then smeared the mousse between her swollen folds. She gasped at the icy-hot sensation of the dessert and warm skin against her and struggled to keep her head.

He was having none of that. He grabbed the bottle of champagne and tipped it above her. Cold, bubbly liquid sloshed over her breasts and abdomen, pooled in her navel . . . drizzled into her pussy with a sensation that made her gasp.

Wearing a devilish smile, Luc stared at her wet body and chocolate-covered clit. “Having dessert.”

Chapter Thirteen

HIS own personal slice of heaven. Luc speared her pussy with his tongue, chocolate, champagne, and Alyssa’s natural taste a flavor that instantly hooked him. Kneeling beside the couch, he lunged for her again, spreading her thighs wider with insistent hands and wedging his shoulders in between.

As he tasted her again, Alyssa’s hips bucked as her body thrashed. She cried out, and the sounds drove him up, higher. Closer to that place where he’d lose control.

Tonight, he didn’t care.

Another tempting taste of her, another laving of her clit. She gasped and fisted her hands in his hair. The sting on his scalp aroused the hell out of him.

He grabbed the mousse from the table beside him and spooned more right onto the hot flesh of her folds with his fingers, then poured more of the champagne right over that distended bundle of nerves. Her breath caught, a jagged inhalation that thrilled him. Then he swooped in, taking her hard bud in his mouth and sucking, and shoved two fingers inside her weeping entrance. She screamed.

Her body clamped down on his fingers, hungry, demanding, and he couldn’t stop imagining exactly how she’d feel on his cock when he got inside her. Everything about this woman, his wife, made him feel hedonistic and rapacious. Fuck apologizing for it anymore. She incited him like no other, and it wasn’t something he could—or wanted to—stop.

As her orgasm high subsided, he smeared a bit more of the mousse on his fingers, then spread it over her nipple. As he laved it, then sucked deep, she groaned.

“Luc! Oh . . .” She panted, her face and chest flushed and glowing.

Damn, she looked beautiful. As he tore off his clothes and threw them haphazardly over the back of the sofa, he glanced at her left hand, at the sparkling diamond on her finger. She was his.

Easing his way up her body, Luc reached out for the champagne flute and tipped it over, above the valley between her breasts. She gasped as he covered her chest with his. The liquid heated between their bodies as they slid sensuously against each other. He grabbed a strawberry and placed it against her lips.

“Eat this,” his low voice commanded.

Alyssa stared with wide blue eyes, sparkling with excitement and curiosity, and he felt himself fall for her a bit more. She parted her lush lips, her tongue peeking out to wet them, before she accepted his offering. Luc set the berry in her mouth, chocolate first. As she bit down, she moaned. Her eyes slid shut. His cock jumped as impatience and need thrummed in his blood. He was dying to get inside her.