Page 114 of The Billionaire's Demand

‘Libby—’ he stood too, moving closer to her; she caught a hint of his cologne and her insides trembled ‘—why didn’t you order these things assembled?’

Heat rushed to her cheeks. ‘It cost extra.’

Raul didn’t laugh, and she was grateful for that, but she felt his disapproval. She knew how stupid she’d been. He was one of the wealthiest people in the world—as if he would have balked at the additional expense of pre-assembled furniture.

‘I needed something to do,’ she added defensively. ‘I thought it would be easier than this. I’ve... I’ve never had anything new before.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘I had no idea.’

Raul’s voice was gruff. ‘Why didn’t you ask me for help?’

Libby looked across at him, frowning. ‘We’ve hardly been speaking,’ she pointed out. ‘I didn’t feel like I could.’

His eyes flashed with an emotion she didn’t understand. ‘I thought space was a good idea for both of us, but you need to know that you can always come to me for help, Libby. You’re my wife.’

She pulled a face. ‘Yeah, right.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘I’m your wife in name only,’ she pointed out. ‘It’s not a real marriage, and we both know that.’

‘It’s real for us, for our version of marriage.’

That hurt, because he was right. Their marriage wasn’t what Libby had wanted, it wasn’t what she’d imagined, but it was what she’d agreed to. She nodded awkwardly.

‘Pass me the wrench,’ he said, holding out his hand.

‘You don’t have to do this.’

His eyes pinned her to the spot. ‘Yes, I do.’ Then, after a beat, ‘I want to.’

Libby passed the tool over with a massive wave of relief.

It was much easier watching Raul work than doing the work herself, she thought with a grimace ten minutes later as he took over the assembly of the crib with a seeming lack of effort that stole her breath.

He worked for almost an hour and then it was done, but Raul wasn’t finished. ‘What’s next?’

Libby stared at the crib, her heart twisting in her chest. ‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered, putting a hand on the edge of it, tears in her eyes. And it was at that moment, that exact moment, that their baby shifted and kicked and Libby gasped, because it was so different to the other movements she’d felt—which had been more like gentle popping sensations. This was a rollercoaster in her belly.

‘What is it?’ Raul was instantly concerned.

Libby was so overcome by the magic of the moment she didn’t stop to question the wisdom of what she was doing; she simply reached out for Raul’s hand and pressed it to her stomach, eyes wide as the baby once more flipped and kicked, this time, right against Raul’s palm.

It was Raul’s turn to react, his expression assuming a mask of shock, his lips parting on an exhalation, his eyes hooded, focused on Libby’s stomach.

‘That is our baby,’ he said, shaking his head as he lifted his other hand to Libby’s stomach and held it there. More somersaults.

They stared at one another and then Libby was laughing, and also sobbing, the emotion of the moment overpowering her, even before Raul lifted one hand to her cheek and held her still, his eyes locked to hers.

‘That’s our baby,’ he repeated, and then he dropped his head, pressing his forehead to hers. Libby closed her eyes, swallowing past a wave of emotion, everything inside of her rolling and twisting so she lost sight of who and where she was.

Instincts overrode everything, just as they had on the boat.

She was an animal, acting solely on biological impulses. She tilted her head, her lips seeking his and finding them, taking them, kissing him lightly at first, curiously, and then hungrily, desperately, needily, and it was a need that only intensified when he kissed her back, his mouth claiming hers with all the heat of possessiveness he’d shown her in the past.

She didn’t think. Didn’t wonder. Didn’t question.

It was too perfect: too right.

Everything inside Libby ignited on a cloud of intense pleasure. Heat built between her legs; her breasts tingled with a need for him to touch them. She was on fire in the best possible way.

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