Page 25 of A Nine-Month Deal With Her Husband

She wished she could say the same thing about her state of mind.

At the bottom of the stairs, Millie paused and placed her fist into the area between her ribs. She had to face Ben at some point and all she could do was apologise for the timing of her question. She couldn’t,wouldn’t, apologise for asking him to give her the baby she so desperately wanted.

But she hadn’t approached the subject in the right way and for that she was sorry. She needed him to know she hadn’t used sex as a means to butter him up, another thought that had occurred to her in the early hours. She hadn’t, not even once, equated making love with having a baby...she only linked Ben and babies after they’d made love.

She’d wanted him. She’d wanted to know him in the most primal, biblical way a man and woman could know each other. She’d only considered the possibility of Ben as a donor after looking at the website and long after they’d had blindingly good sex. She wasn’t, couldn’t be, that manipulative. Did he understand that? If he didn’t, she needed to convince him.

She wasn’t good at heart-to-heart conversations, at exposing herself emotionally or mentally. Since her mum’s death and that blowout conversation with Magnús, she far preferred to keep people at a distance, that way they couldn’t hurt or disappoint her.

But talk to Ben she would. She had to... But maybe she could do it later.

Ben’s deep voice drifted over to her and stopped her flight up the stairs. ‘Are you going to hover or are you going to come into the kitchen and have a cup of coffee?’

Right,busted. Millie wiped her damp hands on her jeans and pulled up a smile. Or tried to. She forced her feet to move, but when she saw him standing next to the island, looking down at his phone, all the air rushed from her lungs. Heat rocketed from her stomach to her womb and between her legs.

She wanted him again, desperately. She wanted to pull his navy sweater and white shirt up and over his head, tug that leather belt apart and drop his grey pants to the floor. Her hands itched to explore his chest, those lovely abs and his muscled back.

She wanted to fall into his kisses, and into the magic they’d found last night.

Ben looked up and their eyes connected. Heat flared in his eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Their physical attraction was undeniable, and she wished she could wipe the slate clean, go back to last night and start all over again.

Ben managed a small smile. ‘Coffee?’ he asked, putting his phone down on the counter.

‘Morning. And, yes, please,’ Millie slid on to a bar stool and linked her hands together. Ben turned to the expensive coffee machine and Millie looked past his broad shoulders to the drifts of snow outside the window.

In the weak light, not dawn or daylight, his neighbourhood was now a pristine white landscape, as if Mother Nature had painted everything with a soft, fluffy brush. The trees lining the street were weighed down, their branches drooping under the weight of the snow. Icicles dropped from the eaves of the house over the road. ‘Wow, that’s a lot of snow,’ she said, wincing at her inane statement.

‘The main roads will be cleared in a few hours,’ Ben explained, his back still to her. ‘And they should open the airport soon.’

Right, he was hinting she should go back to London. She could do that. Sheshoulddo that as soon as possible. But first, she had to apologise to Ben for making such a hash of things last night.

She pulled in some much-needed air and started to speak. ‘I’m really sorry about last night, sorry I threw that at you and for the timing of my question. The thought popped into my brain and then left my mouth. I should’ve thought it through a bit more.’

Damn, she wished he’d turn around, she hated talking to his back. ‘It’s a huge ask. Also, I don’t want you to think I only had sex with you because I was buttering you up to ask you to give me a baby. I don’t operate like that, the one thing had nothing to do with the other and I only thought about you being a donor after I—’

Ben walked over to her and slid a cup of coffee in front of her. He gripped her shoulder. ‘Breathe, Millie.’

‘I will, in a minute, I just need you to understand—’

‘Millie, take a breath and stop talking,’ Ben commanded her.

Millie’s mouth snapped shut. She looked at Ben and when she was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to speak, she started talking again. ‘I just need to say that I’m—’

‘Millicent.’

Millie heard the exasperation in his voice and stopped talking. Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head, letting her hair hide her hot face. She’d made such a hash of everything, and she felt like such a fool. She desperately wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Millie felt Ben’s hand skate over her hair and then burrowed under her hair to hold her neck in a gentle grip. ‘Look at me.’

It took Millie twenty seconds, maybe more, before she mustered the courage to look at him. And when she did, she saw he was smiling and that his expression held no mockery and a hefty dose of compassion. ‘Can you possibly keep quiet for a minute while I speak?’ he asked and she heard the gentle teasing in the question.

She nodded. Well, she’dtry.

‘I didn’t, for one minute, think that you were manipulating me last night. And I’m smart enough to recognise when I’m being used.’ His grip on her neck tightened, just a fraction. ‘I don’t know you well, but you don’t dissemble and you aren’t manipulative.’

A whole lot of tension left her body and she sighed, relieved. Weight dropped off her shoulders, but she couldn’t relax because he was going to shoot down her proposal. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘I appreciate you saying that.’

Ben picked up her cup of black coffee and took a sip. ‘I can see the question in your eyes, Millie. You still want an answer.’

She nodded. ‘I do.’ It was the truth after all.

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