His Wife for a While (16 page)

"Oh, Ben," she said. "Thanks so much, but I don't feel very hungry. I just want to go to bed."

"No problem," he told her. "I can wrap this up."

He went to the cabinet beside the sink. "Here, take these." After he handed over the two pain-relieving tablets, he filled a glass with water and offered it to her.

She swallowed one pill and then stopped to look at him. "You know, I should have seen this coming," she said. "I mean I've lived with this monthly curse for years now." She swallowed the other tablet. "Headache, backache, cramps. They show up every month, and I know what follows. I really should have realized what was happening."

Well," Ben said, "you've had other things on your mind lately."

Chelsea
exhaled a quick, derisive breath. "You can say that again. I haven't thought of anything except getting pregnant. I'm afraid I'm becoming obsessed with the idea."

"Come on," he said.

As he led her down the hallway, he couldn't help but feel a little hurt by what she'd said. The thought that she was so focused on the conception of a child somehow made him feel less... human. It somehow took away from the fact that he was a flesh-and-blood man. It was stupid of him to feel this way. He realized it wasn't her intention to devalue him in any way, but he felt it just the same.

She paused at his bedroom door. "What…? Why…?"

"Silly questions," he murmured, guiding her on into his room. "You said that you have a backache. I can help with that. Lie down on your stomach."

She did as he bid and lifted her weight to make it easier for him to pull her loose-fitting nightshirt up to her shoulders.

"My hands are a bit rough," he said by way of apology.

"There's a bottle of skin cream on my dresser." Her voice was muffled by the pillow.

When he got back with the lotion, he saw that her nightshirt was in a rumpled heap on the floor by the bed. The sight of her slender naked back tied his gut in knots.

Ever since the first time he'd made love with Chelsea, he'd been awed… and continued to feel awed… by how sexually attractive he found her. The sight of her naked skin nearly drove him wild. The scent of her naked skin did.

He really hadn't expected to have such a strong physical reaction to her. Yes, she was pretty, what with her large dark eyes and long chestnut hair. Her cute button nose would catch the attention of any red-blooded male. But the effect she had on him was far more powerful than what he felt should be normal.

In fact, he was certain from the way his gut churned inside when he was near her, he'd have no trouble at all giving her as many babies as she wanted, and then some.

''Is something wrong? "

Chelsea
lifted her head and twisted a fraction to look at him. His face grew hot with embarrassment over his thoughts. Averting his gaze from the visible swell of her breast, he hurried to the bed and sat on its edge.

"Let me just warm some of this up," he said, trying to control his flustered state. He poured a dollop of lotion into his palm and rubbed his hands together.

Just keep your mind on the job at hand
, he silently told himself.

The task may have been small, but it took an enormous effort for him to focus on his goal. He smoothed his hands over her back to distribute the creamy lotion. Her flawless skin felt like silk to his work-roughened hands. The milk white color was more than pleasing to his eyes, and he had to force himself to concentrate.

His fingertips ran over the tiny bumps of her spine as he slowly made his way down her back. He reversed the action and smiled when he heard her sigh softly in response. That sigh sparked something deep inside him… a slow-growing flame that had never been completely extinguished during the past two weeks despite the satisfaction he found in their lovemaking.

With the heels of both hands, he pressed little circles on the indentations on either side of her spine at the small of her back.

"That's wonderful," she groaned.

Her avid response was like a sprinkling of water on a dry and dusty desert. He wanted more of it, much more.

Working mostly with his thumbs, he massaged his way up her back. He kneaded her shoulder muscles and was rewarded with a tiny moan. He smoothed his palm over her shoulders and heard her sigh.

Ben had to fight the urge to bend over and plant a tender kiss on her neck. The flame that had flickered inside his lower belly only a moment ago, now blazed with an ever-growing heat.
Chelsea
did this to him, and he couldn't figure out why.

He really needed to get his mind off the desire that gnawed at him, but that was nearly impossible when the object stirring his passion was laying on his bed half-naked.

Talk, he commanded himself…

"How is this?"

"Mmm," she answered, groggily.

He grinned and splayed his hands across her shoulder blades, rubbing with strong fingers.

"I've heard several different terms used to describe the female cycle," he said, desperate to get his mind off the curves of her luscious bottom. He didn't much like this embarrassing topic, but, hell, he'd talk about anything if it would divert his attention. "You might not believe this, but some of the guys talk quite freely about it. I've heard Joey complain that Angela is suffering from 'her monthly.'" He chuckled. "Tom never fails to let everyone know Teresa is 'spitting fire'… apparently she becomes very irritable. I've heard them call it Aunt Flo and the Deathly Period, and a half a dozen other nicknames. Some of them aren't fit to be repeated."

He let his fingers trail lightly down
Chelsea
's back.

"I remember before Aunt May went through menopause she'd tell me, 'Don't bother me. I'm feeling out of sorts' and I knew to make myself scarce…"

"Ben, please shut up. Your hands are working miracles, but your mouth is ruining everything."

"Sorry." And then he clamped his lips together to keep from smiling at her testiness.

It didn't take long before
Chelsea
's breathing had become relaxed and even, and a deep sense of satisfaction settled over him knowing that he might have helped relieve her discomfort.

With ever-lighter strokes, he worked his way back up to her shoulder blades. When his fingertips accidentally brushed the soft swell of her breasts, the satisfaction he felt was quickly snuffed out by the white-hot fire of his need. His inane conversation hadn't helped at all.

Damn, he admonished himself. How could he be so callous? He felt totally helpless against the purely sexual reactions that his wife caused in him, but he certainly could control his urges while she was feeling… out of sorts. A faint grin crept across his lips.

He had to admit the feeling churning in him. He was full-out delighted that
Chelsea
wasn't pregnant. His grin disappeared completely as the thought flashed through his brain, not for the first time. He wasn't proud that he felt that way, and he knew it was totally selfish, but he looked forward to making love to her. He enjoyed it. And their hot, fully satisfying nights of love would stop cold once she conceived. Although he'd realized this before, he hadn't put together what it meant, but he'd be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge that his feelings for her were changing, growing into something deeper.

Ben stopped massaging and leaned over to gaze at
Chelsea
's face. He was certain she was asleep. Reaching out, he brushed a strand of her shiny, dark hair from her face.

He picked up the baggy cotton shirt she used for pajamas and absently folded the lightweight material. All he asked, looking at the ceiling as though his gaze could somehow get his selfish prayer to heaven, was that it would take her a while to become pregnant.

~  ~  ~

Before
Chelsea
was fully conscious, she became aware of the heated male scent that belonged to Ben. She inhaled deeply and thought she must be dreaming.

But as she came awake, she frowned. Something wasn't right. She raised her lids and blinked her sleepy eyes several times.

Something was wrong. She was in Ben's room. In Ben's bed. In Ben's arms.

His deep, steady breathing was right next to her ear. His arm was tucked beneath her breasts. The two of them were pressed as close together as spoons in a cutlery drawer.

She lay as still as a frightened rabbit and tried to remember what had happened last night that had impelled her to sleep with Ben.

Slowly, it came to her. Headache. Crampiness. Back pain. She'd lain down on Ben's bed and found such comfort there. Ben arrived. Pain meds. And then the most wonderful, bone-melting massage...

The disappointment she'd felt yesterday over starting her period was nothing next to the deep sense of gratitude she had toward the man who lay sleeping beside her. No one had ever taken the time to care for her the way he had last evening. And she hadn't even been sick, really. But Ben had treated her with kindness and understanding. And a tenderness that was nothing short of amazing. He'd even gone beyond that by rubbing her back until she'd fallen asleep. By the looks of it, he'd curled up next to her so she wouldn't be alone in her misery.

She felt the warm weight of his forearm as it pressed so intimately up under her bare breasts. The tiny hairs on his arm tickled her sensitive skin. But it wasn't uncomfortable, in fact it was quite... delicious.

An inadvertent sigh escaped her barely parted lips. It was a sigh filled with utter satisfaction. She'd never slept all night with anyone. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and smiled as contentment washed over her. Being married to Ben had brought her some beautiful and fulfilling experiences, and she would treasure these memories for the rest of her life.

She'd learned so much about him. His sexual drive was strong and his passion overwhelmed her at times. She also knew he was a kind man, an understanding man, a man who cared about others. He'd proven that last night. And he was a strong man, but his was a quiet strength... a quiet strength that awed her.

All these thoughts made her mouth go dry. Her stomach seized up with a sudden fear.

Easing from his cozy embrace, she slid to the edge of the mattress and sat up. Her nightshirt was folded at the foot of the bed, and she tugged it over her head. She stood and made her way to the door as she pushed her arms into the sleeves.

She stopped off at the bathroom and then went to the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee. She barely heard the steady hiss and bubble of the perking coffee-maker as she gazed out the kitchen window. Trying desperately to focus on the predawn sky with its coral mother-of-pearl sheen,
Chelsea
couldn't stop the question from entering her brain.

Have you fallen in love with Ben?

Her fingertips felt chilled as she pressed them to her mouth. She knew her feelings for him had mellowed from the very beginning, when he'd agreed to father her child. It had been impossible for her not to feel a softness, a deep gratitude, when he had been willing to give her the one thing she desired above all else.

And her feelings for him had yielded even further when he'd shown such gentleness and compassion as she'd explained her childhood to him.

He'd cared for her when she'd felt so awful, and she'd awakened in the solace of his strong arms. As she had lain there in his warm, protective embrace and she'd pondered all the things she'd learned of him, she'd become all tingly inside.