Trouble With Harry by Katie MacAlister Page B

to…you want to…and I would dearly love to…in bed. Together. With all our bare skin showing!”
    The ribbon fell from his mouth as he looked up, a grin so endearing on his face, she wanted to grab his ears and kiss him until his spectacles fogged up. “Yes, I know, it is wicked, isn’t it? Delightfully so.”
    The bright glint in his eye slowly darkened with a shadow of doubt as he took a step backward. “You do want to do this, don’t you? I’m not rushing you? I meant to tell you that I wanted a wife who desired a physical relationship, but at the time…er…I…eh…and today, when you said you had been married, I assumed that you’d want to…uh…”
    Plum smiled a wry little smile as her breasts, heavy and hard and greatly missing his touch, pushed themselves with eagerness back into his hands. “Yes, I very much want to be a wife to you in all ways. It’s just that I have only been with my first husband, you see, and we were together only for six weeks—”
    Harry gently kissed the words from her lips. “You don’t have much experience, I understand completely. You need not be worried on that account—we will discover this new territory together.”
    Plum was about to object to the ridiculous idea he had about her sexual naivety when his mouth closed upon hers, driving all thoughts but those of a carnal nature from her mind. His mouth was sweet and hot and filled her with the need to taste him. Without waiting for an invitation or even permission, she slid her tongue into his mouth, capturing his delighted moan, pressing herself against him in an attempt to get closer. His hands slid from her breasts to her back, one tangling itself in her hair, the other grasping her behind, pulling her hips tight against him. Even through the heavy brocade of his dressing gown she could feel how aroused he was. His tongue twined around hers in a motion remarkably similar to the sinuous grind of his hips. She slipped both hands around his neck, pressing herself tighter against him, clutching his hair as she mapped out the terrain of his mouth, wanting to burn up with the heat he generated deep within her, needing to burn bright, unable to stop until she had merged with him, joined with him, his heat feeding her flames—
    â€œPapa, Ratty is asleep and won’t wake up.”
    Plum thought she was hallucinating for a moment, but the way Harry stiffened against her alerted her to the fact that she hadn’t imagined the childish voice behind her. With much regret, she separated from him, turning to face the small child who stood in the doorway to Harry’s room, a limp brown object held carefully in his hands. He eyed her with bright curiosity. “Who’s she? Is she going to be my new mama?”
    Mama? As in… mama ? Plum blinked in surprise.
    â€œEr…yes. My dear, this is McTavish, my son.”
    He had a son? And he hadn’t told her? Plum shook the cobwebs of astonishment from her mind, and smiled at the towheaded boy. “Hello, McTavish, I’m very pleased to meet you. Yes, I am going to be your mama. What’s that you have?”
    The boy pushed the brown object into her hands. “It’s Ratty. He’s asleep. He won’t wake up.”
    Plum, no stranger to rodents after having lived with an animal-obsessed Thom for the past few years, did not shriek or object to the obviously dead rat she found herself holding. In fact, she was rather proud of how quickly she had assimilated the information that Harry had a child he had forgotten to mention during his secret-baring. She moved quickly to step into the role of mama to his sweet, motherless child. “I’m afraid Ratty has been called to heaven by the angels, McTavish. Do you see how his chest isn’t moving? That means he’s not breathing. I’m very sorry. Ratty looks like he was a good companion.”
    McTavish’s