Page 19 of Pregnancy Clause in Their Paper Marriage

‘You’re really good at this.’

He continued to work his thumbs into the sweep of her foot’s arch, applying enough pressure to get at the tense muscles, to feel them relax. It was torture for him, a painful yet exquisite torture. He shifted slightly in his seat, so her foot wasn’t brushing a certain part of his anatomy that was tensing even as she became more relaxed. ‘Thank you.’

‘Have you done it lots of times before?’

He smiled a little, even as he fought a sigh. ‘As it happens, yes. But not the way you think.’

Her eyes opened and she lifted her head from the pillows to look at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘My sisters used to pay me to give them foot massages. A dollar a pop. It was a nice little earner, when I was young.’

‘So, this isn’t your way to warm up the ladies?’ she asked as she closed her eyes. ‘I suppose you don’t even need to. They’re all willing enough.’

‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t take anyone to bed who was unwilling,’ he replied dryly. Which was what this was about, essentially. He kept working at her feet, as her body became more pliant. He half wondered if she was falling asleep, and that was definitelynotwhat he wanted.

A few minutes passed in comfortable quiet, his thumbs rotating circles on the soles of her feet. He glanced down at her, her eyes closed, her golden hair spread across the white pillow, reminding him of Sleeping Beauty. Underneath her thin T-shirt he could see the shape of her breasts, as round as apples, each one a perfect handful. He let himself look, because her eyes were closed, and the truth was hehadto drink her in. She really had the mostbeguilingbody. He ached to touch more than her foot, but that was where he kept his hands. For now.

‘So, what did you mean,’ she asked sleepily, her eyes still closed, ‘when you said it wouldn’t be good to go into our...our meeting cold?’

‘Well.’ He paused reflectively, sliding his hand from her foot to her ankle, curling his fingers around those slender bones, waiting for her response. Her permission. A soft sigh of assent escaped her, and he started to stroke down from her ankle, towards her foot. Wrap his fingers around her foot and then slide back up again, slowly, so slowly, towards her ankle, her skin warm and silky beneath his fingers.

This waskillinghim. He kept doing it.

‘Christos?’ she prompted, her eyes still closed, her body so very relaxed.

‘Right. Yes.’ Again, he had to shift in his seat. ‘Well,’ he said, continuing to stroke from foot to ankle, ‘we’ve been married for three years, and we’ve barely touched each other. We’ve never even kissed.’

Lana tensed briefly, her foot flexing beneath his hand, and then she made herself relax. ‘That was the point, though.’

‘But it’s not any more.’

‘Tomorrow—’

‘Tomorrow, yes, exactly. We go from zero to one hundred in the space of one evening? You might think I’m the king of one-night stands, but that’s no way to conduct a marriage. I thought we ought to...get to know each other...a little better tonight, so tomorrow doesn’t come as so much of an almighty shock.’

He glanced at her, his hand resting on her ankle, and saw her eyes wide open, bright with shock as she stared at him. ‘Get to know each other?’ she repeated.

‘Yes.’ He smiled and stroked the curve of her ankle with a single fingertip, like the touch of a butterfly. ‘Get to know each other.’

She gestured to her feet in his lap. ‘That’swhat this is?’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘I thought you were giving me a foot massage!’

‘Well, as you can see,’ he replied equably, rubbing the arch of her foot again, ‘I am.’

A shuddering breath escaped her as she slouched down against the cushions again and he continued to rub. ‘What...what do you actually mean by that?’ she asked. ‘What...?’ She licked her lips, making desire dart fiercely through him. ‘What is it that you want to do?’

Everything.

His body was raging with desire now, but he kept his voice mild and soft. ‘Nothing you don’t want to do,’ he replied. ‘And anything and everything that you do.’ He trailed his fingertip from the arch of her foot to her ankle, drawing circles along her skin as a shudder escaped her. ‘You’re in control of this, Lana, just as you like to be.’

A wobbly laugh escaped her as she slid a little further down on the sofa, so her body was basically splayed before him. ‘Funny, but I don’t feel in control.’

‘Well, I promise you, you are.’ And meanwhile he was keeping his own self-control tightly leashed—and it was getting more challenging by the minute. ‘Shall I keep rubbing your feet?’ he suggested, and wordlessly she nodded.

They had all night, he reminded himself, if that was what she needed. He’d come to her house this evening with no expectations but to touch her and, more importantly, have her want him to touch her. And he’d succeeded in that, but, heaven help him, he wouldn’t mind moving on from her feet, lovely as they were.