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When he turned her around, she held her breath and hoped he meant to kiss her again, but he didn’t.

Disappointment hit first until he moved. Lowering his hands gently down her arms, he spoke. “If we can’t have the passion right now, at least let me have this.”

She held her breath as he reverently touched her stomach through her dress. And when he lowered himself to his knees, she thought she might die because her heart stopped and breathing was completely overrated.

“What…” She started to question, but he stilled her with his hand.

“Shhh.” His finger touched his lips as his eyes met hers and then he slowly touched her barely rounded stomach with his lips.

At his touch, her knees started to buckle, and she was grateful for the door behind her. Never had she experienced anything like this. This touch, this kiss, was more intimate than when they’d made love.

A fear she couldn’t name warred with the passion she felt for this man.

But when he spoke she realized her fear was pointless.

Kacie Jo wanted to move. Wanted to run away from him. Donovan could tell in the way she pulled away slightly. But Donovan had to do this. Had to show her he cared, and if the baby could hear, he wanted it to know, too.

So he spoke the words he’d been thinking for the last week, ever since he’d heard Kacie Jo was pregnant.

“I promise to do everything in my power to protect you. And I promise I’ll be here for you.” He’d practiced so many other words, words that he’d need to say, but these were the most important. And as he spoke, the calm serenity of making the right choice settled over him.

Touching his lips to Kacie Jo’s stomach one more time he let the moment carry on for just a little longer before standing. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She didn’t answer, just wiped a tear away from her cheek and walked out the door.

As she walked away, Donovan rubbed a hand across his face. Jesus, he wanted her. Wanted to lose himself in her heat. Wanted to use her to heal the broken part of his soul.

He brushed his hands through his hair. To use Kacie Jo Jenkins was wrong period.

No, not Jenkins. Kacie Jo was a Nelson now, and he was going to live up to the bargain he’d made, was going to be a husband and father. A man Ike Jenkins could be proud of.

He opened the door and followed Kacie Jo to the car. When she would’ve grabbed her suitcase, he took it first. “At least let me do this, okay?”

She stood back and let him get her suitcase and his bag. Once he’d loaded up, she closed the trunk and locked the doors.

“Well, I guess that’s that.” She said the words to herself, so Donovan didn’t bother to answer. Just carried the cases into the lake house and started on his quest to get to know his wife better. To fulfill his promise to himself and his unborn child.

If he’d known his new wife was allergic to tomatoes, his quest would’ve probably gone better. How in the world had he known her all these years and not known she couldn’t eat tomatoes?

As Kacie Jo stood in the kitchen watching him whip up his awe inspiring spaghetti sauce, she laughed at his incredulous expression then shrugged her shoulders.

“See, we definitely need to know more about each other. I’ve always been allergic. And you told me to go take a nap, so I did. If I’d known what you had planned, I could’ve told you earlier. ”

He wiped the scowl off his face and looked at her standing there in the kitchen. Her hair was still sleep tousled, and she had a red streak on her face where she’d pressed against the pillow. Once again he thanked whatever higher power existed for giving her the strength to say I do. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

She laughed at his disgruntled look. “Well, it is.” She moved across the kitchen to look on the stove. “Hey, I can eat this.” She picked up the French bread and waved it in his face. “And if you have the other stuff for salad, I can eat that.”

He pointed to the refrigerator. “In the crisper. Be careful, there are tomatoes in there, too.”

She bent over to retrieve the produce he’d bought, and he nearly dropped the spoon at the sight. She’d changed into gray shorts and a white t-shirt. And she was barefoot with three silver toe rings blinking up at him. He wondered if she’d dressed like that on purpose simply to drive him crazy.

She grabbed the bags of produce and stood. “It’s not like they’ll kill me or anything. Just break me out in a nasty rash. You’d have to rub pink stuff all over me to stop the itch.”

He almost groaned out loud at the thought. “Careful. I might just slip some tomatoes in your dessert when you’re not looking.”

Dropping the salad makings on the counter, she grabbed a kitchen knife and teasingly pointed it at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

He nodded toward the knife. “You better put that away, Kacie Jo. She who threatens doesn’t get the last course.”

A smile from Kacie Jo served as his answer. She turned the knife to salad preparation. “So dessert’s a surprise, hmm? I love surprises. Especially those involving chocolate.” She looked at him pointedly. “In case you’re taking notes about me or anything.”

Donovan laughed. Sleep had done wonders for her. She was back to herself. Whatever else had happened, she seemed accepting of the fact that they were now married, and she was going to make the best of it.
 

Of course, it probably helped that he’d agreed that they needed to get to know each other. She didn’t have to know that he planned on turning the tables on her, on seducing her slowly but surely over the course of this week.

Over dinner he learned her favorite color was purple, her favorite foods chocolate and mangos, her favorite perfume—soap. She still loved animals and long walks except in the summer heat. And she hated cold.

At the same time, he learned she tossed her head before she laughed. She twirled her hair around her finger while she thought. She tapped her feet to an internal rhythm. And she blushed easily.

And he learned he’d be forever grateful that she was the one carrying his child because he could see himself growing old with her.

He’d just made that amazing discovery when she tossed a forkful of buttered spaghetti noodles across the table at him. “You’re ignoring me again.”

He wiped the noodles away from his face and stood. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Without thinking he scooped a spoon of sauce and started toward her. She held out her hands. “No, no, no. Not the sauce. I’m allergic. It’ll ruin the carpet. I’ll be miserable, and I’ll make sure you are, too.”

His pasta was covered in sauce. The only thing he had easy access to other than tomato-covered food was the garlic butter she’d used to spread on the bread.

Well, sometimes a man had no choice. He scooped a glob of butter out of its bowl and started toward her.
 

She had a head start, but she didn’t have a chance and she knew it. Turning she held out her hands.

“Come on, Donovan. It was just noodles. And you were off in la la land. I couldn’t help myself.”

Donovan nodded. “Uh huh.”

She turned her green eyes on him in a plea for mercy. “You don’t want to rub that nasty smelling stuff all over me. I know you don’t. Come on.”

He groaned at the images her words conveyed. “I don’t, huh?”

When she would have answered, he slid one butter-covered finger down her arm, effectively stopping her words.

She gulped and stood still, never taking her eyes from his as he rubbed another butter covered finger down her other arm.

He learned then that butter was the most erotic of all food groups. Forget chocolate and oysters. They had nothing on garlic spread.

He brushed more of the smooth concoction over the exposed part of her chest, and her pupils dilated, her breath quickened, her mouth opened in a little ‘oh’ that nearly undid him.

He thanked the fates for whoever invented white t-shirts. Hers fit snug and he could see the perfect outline where her nipples now stood erect.

Not trusting himself to look more, he stepped closer, closing all distance between them.

“So you wanted attention, hmm?”

She didn’t answer, just watched him with an awareness that stole his breath.

And he could resist no more. One simple taste. That’s all he wanted. He closed his eyes, afraid to open them and hear her say stop.

But she didn’t say stop. Instead she encouraged the kiss, encouraged the closeness.

Just when he believed he’d won the ultimate battle of wills, the slimy ooze of garlic butter hit his face.

And in that moment, his wife slid under his arms and out the door.

Chapter Ten

Kacie Jo hit the door running. Not just from Donovan, but from all the feelings he’d conjured up, too. She’d gone to bed overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.

When Donovan had touched his lips to her belly, when he’d spoken to their baby, she’d fallen in love completely, totally, one hundred percent. He was her hero. The man she’d always wanted.

Here they were, at her lake house and she could have him. But she couldn’t, and she knew it. She wanted more out of life than good sex.

Okay, great sex, but still, it wasn’t enough.

So when she’d awoken with a plan, everything seemed crystal clear. She’d treat him like a brother. All the conflicting emotions would disappear.

After the catastrophe of her last plan, she should've known better. Brotherly love was the last thing she felt for her husband. The urgency, the desire to possess Donovan, to let him possess her left her confused and terrified and excited and thrilled.

She rubbed her hands over her butter-covered arms in an attempt to wipe away the chill bumps that lingered from the way he’d held her, from the way he’d stared at her, so deep he’d glimpsed her soul.

Lord help her if he did. She’d never convince him they needed to be friends first. Of course, she’d ruined that three months before.

Dammit, she’d screwed this all up.

She stopped running and bent over trying to catch her breath. Running in bare feet was a killer.

As Donovan approached, Kacie Jo knew running time was over.

“You look pretty silly standing there covered in butter. Pretty smelly, too.”

She turned her head so she could see him. “Yeah, you’re one to talk.” She’d definitely hit her mark. Even though he’d wiped the garlic spread away, the side of his face glistened from the oil.

“Afraid something might get you?”

Not at all. “Someone,” she answered.

He laughed and she straightened back up. When he reached her, her breathing had returned to normal. She had to say something. “Sorry about that. I just…”

He stopped her. “Don’t apologize. It was fun. You laughed. I laughed. We had a good time in spite of the Great Tomato Fiasco.”

She closed her eyes and let his voice cascade over her. He caressed her chin, tilted her head up to face him. “Open your eyes, Kacie Jo.”

She did as he asked, and he continued. “I’m glad you trusted me enough back there to do that. To just have fun.”

How could she respond? Yes, she trusted him, but she had to run away from herself, from her own desire to tear his clothes off.

So where did this go now? The answer chipped away at her defenses.

“I trust you implicitly, Donovan.”

She saw her words hit him, saw how much they meant. She’d said the right thing when he lifted her in his arms again and started toward the cabin.

“What are you doing?” She rested her head on his garlic-scented shoulder as she asked the question.

“I promised you dessert, Mrs. Nelson. And when a man makes a promise, he has to keep it.”

She giggled, completely at ease in his arms for the first time maybe ever. “Oh good. I love dessert.”

“You just keep that in mind. And remember I still owe you.”

His words brought out her laughter once again, and when he carried her over the threshold this time, it felt normal, not a bit scary. She didn’t know where her fear had gone, but it had completely vanished.

He set her on her feet once they reached the kitchen.

“So what’s this great dessert?” She asked expecting him to tell her she had to wait.

Instead, he pointed to the counter. And there it was. She didn’t need to hear his words to know what he’d made.

“I believe you called this Better Than Sex cake. Let’s eat it and see.”

Their days away from reality passed in a haze after that. Her trust and Donovan’s unspoken promise to let their relationship move forward at the pace she set left Kacie Jo liberated.

On their walks around the lake, she learned things she’d never known about him. He loved books, even kept a tattered copy of
Heart of Darkness
in his duffle bag. He still wrote letters to the grade school pen pals who wrote to him, even though most of them communicated electronically. An intern from the network updated his Facebook page and twitter accounts.
 
He liked old fashioned Brach’s Butterscotch candies, and he loved to cook.

If she asked a question, Donovan answered candidly. Because of their agreement she steered clear of his work. Still, every time she thought about B’en Ai, Kacie Jo felt a chill to her soul. Something still lurked in the shadows of his memories. Something she hoped she could erase.