Birds were chirping. We were standing outside on such a beautiful day, and I couldn’t hold out anymore.
I pressed myself closer and said, “Michael?—”
Then he kissed me.
Everything felt like a dream.
Chapter Fourteen
Michael
* * *
For weeks, I’d been planning a nice day when Britney would see my home and maybe realize I was a good guy.
That day had arrived.
First, I introduced her to the staff, and she repeated names like a lady.
Once that was over, I tugged at my collar and said, “After we change, we’ll go on a picnic.”
She sighed and nodded. “Good. This dress is starting to wear into my skin.”
We climbed the stairs together to head to the master suites, which were adjoined as my ancestors had once been forced to sleep separately.
At her door, I said, “Wear something comfortable to walk in.”
She glanced around the wooden floor and asked, “Is there a pool here too?”
I shook my head and stepped back to give her a few minutes. Comfort was a good thing and Operation Romance was in full swing.
“No, but we can build one if you want for next time,” I answered.
“Wouldn’t that be an extensive change to an old building?”
“I think there was one once, so it would just be digging it up and fixing it up.”
“Never mind.” She shrugged and opened her door. “We can swim at home, then.”
“Excellent.” I watched her walk inside.
As she gazed around the room at the portraits of ancestors and other paintings of times long ago, she smiled and I relaxed. Soon, everyone would see her belly swollen with my child, and my heart thundered at the idea.
I tossed the tuxedo pieces on the floor of my room and heard her on the phone in her room. So I took my time picking out jeans and a Henley shirt. Horse riding was a bad idea, so we would stick with walking.
I heard her hang up, so I knocked on the adjoining door. When I came in, she was in a black maxi dress that seemed cotton.
“So this felt classy but simple,” she said.
I missed seeing her in her bra and underwear. My body was still hard from earlier, but I smiled and said, “You’re a vision, darling, as always.”
She took my arm and pointed toward the door. “Okay, I’ve started to like ‘darling’ as long as I don’t find you that you use it on all your girlfriends.”
Good. The farther away from beds we were, the more able I was to follow my plan.
“I have no girlfriends—just a wife,” I said.
“All of this—the formal titles and ‘wife’—I get nervous.”