Page 65 of Callum

"And the family? The people who were employed here? What of them?"

He studied her over the rim of his glass. "What are you asking me, darling?"

She shrugged. "There are some things that were written about you and the way you do business."

"Do you believe everything you read?" He asked her mildly.

"No. It's been said that I have been going out with Brad Pitt and Kevin Costner. I have never even met them."

"There you go."

"It's been said that your company is a corporate raider. You swoop in and take over vulnerable companies for little to nothing and turn them around." She shook her head at the cold look on his face. "I have offended you."

"Have you?"

"I am sorry. It's just that my nerves are shot, and I-" She closed her eyes. "I hate it when people do not like me."

"Pardon?"

"Those letters are so vile. God!" She gulped the wine. "When I am on stage, I relish the fact that I am engaging the audience. They cry when I cry and laugh when I do.

That's why I love the theater so much. The connection with people who pay their hard-earned money to come and see us - see me. I am grateful, and it makes me want to show them my best."

"And you do." Putting away his glass, he reached for her hands, stretching her fingers and admiring the delicacy. His greatest wish was to put a ring on her finger. "I sat in that theater and was wrapped up in the performance. What's not to like?"

"I am being foolish."

"You are scared, and I understand that. I would like to take your mind off it."

A small smile touched her lips. "You just want to have sex."

"I want to make love to you," He corrected her. "And that is the difference."

"You are right, and I would love that. Make love to me, Callum, until I am drowning in passion."

His heart quickened, and he could feel his desire swelling. She could do this to him - make him want her beyond measure and be mad about it. Putting away his glass, he rose and pulled her to her feet. His hands framed her face, eyes bright with longing. "Shall we go upstairs?" He asked huskily.

"What about the living room? There is a fire and blankets. It's snowing again, and I love making love by the fire while the snow is coming down."

"Then that's what we will do." He drew her with him towards the living room. While the snowflakes fell gently against the window panes, he spread the blankets and the cushions in front of the fire. And he insisted on undressing her.

"I love to see your skin against the light of the fire." Her sweater drifted to the floor, followed by her bra. He kissed her throat, her neck, his tongue tasting the hollow and following the jumping of her pulse. "Your complexion is so flawless, so perfect, it reminds me of satin."

"You sound like a poet." She whispered, fingers brushing through his thick hair.

"I feel like one when I am with you." Stepping back, he made short work of taking off his clothes before pulling her down with him onto the blankets, where he continued to admire her skin before taking off her leggings. Passing a hand over her quivering stomach, he lifted his head to look at her.

"I want a child with you."

"We are not ready."

"Are we not, my love?" He asked her whimsically. "I want to see my seed growing inside you and know I put it there." Bending, he kissed the sides of her mouth, his hand still possessively cradling her stomach.

"I want to water your womb with my seed." His hand drifted down to cup her sex. "To feel it growing inside you, to know that we created something - someone out of love. I want a family with you."

"Callum-" Her hands roamed restlessly over his back and broad shoulders, loving the feel of his muscles and the way they quivered at her touch. "We should wait-"

"If it happens, then it happens." He nibbled at her lip and sent the desire spiraling. Pressing his hand closer to her sex, he watched her eyes widen. Slipping a finger into her, he felt the moistness and drew in a sharp breath. "You are ready for me."