Page 34 of Kiss of Fury

“Neck bothering you?” He took her plate away.

She rolled her shoulders. “Residual tension.”

Warm hands settled on her shoulders and kneaded.

“You don’t have to—oh my god,” she groaned.

He chuckled.

She closed her eyes. “You have magic fingers.” Her head lolled as he massaged the knots out of her muscles. They didn’t speak, his touch providing all the communication necessary. Her body relaxed, finding relief and pleasure. Despite the intense fatigue, her nipples hardened, and she felt a dampness between her thighs. With another man, she might have suspected ulterior motives, but she trusted Mike.

If she hadn’t been so damn tired, the massage might have led to something more. She’d decided she was ready to consummate their marriage.

His thoughtful gestures and concern had won her over—bringing her dinner, stepping up and taking care of Brody. It had been his idea to see if the mess hall cook could come up with something comparable to a hot dog. Like Honoria had said, he was a good man. Good was sexy as hell.

Any handsome man could turn her head, but there had to be substance behind the pretty face before she would act on the attraction.

“Where else are you sore?”

“My feet?”

He turned her chair, pulled the other to face her, sat, and lifted her feet onto his lap. He massaged, his thumbs hitting the right spot.

“Oh my god.” She groaned. “That’s perfect. So good.”

He laughed softly. She loved his voice.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” He could open a massage parlor and be busy all day. Except, she wouldn’t like him touching other women, possibly arousing the sensations he stirred in her. Or in himself. A hard-on tented his pants.

He shrugged. “With you, it comes naturally.”

Their eyes locked, and a heated unspoken understanding sizzled between them.Not tonight. But soon.

He set her feet on the floor. “You’re tired. It’s late. Bed for you.” He scooped her out of the chair.

“I’m notthattired. I can walk.” But she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Of course you can.” He strode into their room and settled her into the bed. “Luckily, you can sleep in tomorrow.”

“I still have to go to work.” Today’s patients would return to their settlement, but there would be others. Hopefully, just routine cases.

“On a weekend?” he asked. “Isn’t the clinic closed?”

“TomorrowisSaturday!” The week had flown by, and she’d lost track. “You’re right. I can sleep in.”

He cut the lights. Boots thumped on the floor. Clothing rustled. The mattress depressed.

It seemed natural to roll into him. His arms came around her, and she snuggled against his bare chest. He wore briefs on his lower half. He pressed a kiss to her temple. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, and that was the last she knew.

Chapter Fifteen

Fury awakened before dawn, his wife curled against him, her head on his shoulder. His arm tingled with pins and needles, but he did not wish to disturb her or burst the bubble of a dream come true. He held his wife in his arms. The limb could go dead, and he wouldn’t care.

A seismic shift had altered their marriage. They’d been drawing closer with each day, but the marriage had taken a quantum leap forward.

If he’d known a neck massage would have such a positive effect, he would have laid his hands on her sooner.

The relationship had shifted between the two of them, and between him and the boy. Until last night, he’d only considered himself. Last night, for the first time, he’d thought about what he brought to the marriage, how he could serve their needs.

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