A Hard Man to Love

Saunders and Derrick walked up the stone steps, engrossed in deep conversation.

Her heart rate stepped up its pace. He really was beautiful. His features hard and masculine, his mouth—her body flushed with heat—sensuous and pleasure giving in a way she looked forward to on a regular basis. As her pregnancy became more apparent, Derrick limited their lovemaking out of concern for her and the baby. Once the doctor confirmed it was perfectly acceptable for them to continue having intercourse, he no longer denied himself, and they made love regularly, like two randy teenagers who’d recently discovered the joy of sex.

In the midst of explaining something to Saunders, Derrick gestured with his hands. The sight of his long, lean fingers reminded her of how they often caressed her skin and brought her trembling body to the edge before they joined together and he pushed her over into a climax.

She sighed. She loved him so much it hurt.

When he saw her seated at the table, he paused, and his features softened for a fraction before he returned to his explanation.

A sign. A little one, but a sign nonetheless that the closeness she felt to him was mutual. Optimism flickered in her chest. She saw those signs often nowadays. They were growing closer, or as close as Derrick allowed anyone to get to him.

Their changed relationship nurtured the love she already had, but she didn’t know for certain how he felt about her. He cared for her, but how much?

The larger her waistline grew, the more protective he became by constantly following up and making sure she was eating well and getting enough exercise. He even got involved in her nightly sessions of rubbing cocoa butter on her skin to prevent stretch marks. On more than one occasion, she’d reminded him she wouldn’t be the first woman to give birth, and millions of women did it every day. Although she complained about him being overprotective, she enjoyed the attention he lavished on her.

“Did you sleep well?” Derrick asked after Saunders disappeared into the house.

Eva nodded. “Did you?”

“Like a baby.” He smiled. He looked relaxed and seemed in a good mood. His demeanor reminded her of the good times they used to share on St. Simons Island. “How’d the shopping go yesterday?”

“It went well. I found the cutest little outfits and a few more stuffed animals.”

Derrick’s lips quirked upward. “She’s not even born yet, and she’s got more clothes than I do and more toys than Toys ‘R’ Us.”

“They were so cute, though. I couldn’t resist.”

She was used to his teasing, even though he encouraged her to get whatever she thought best for the baby. In another week, the nursery would be finished. A local artist was coming to paint a mural of purple dinosaurs dancing in a field of marigolds on the wall. Derrick thought the design looked wacky. She thought it was adorable, and since he’d given her carte blanche over the nursery, her baby would awaken every morning to the sight of polka-dot curtains and purple dinosaurs in a field of marigolds.

“I’d like to see them after breakfast. Did you buy anything for yourself?”

“A couple of outfits for the charity events, like you suggested.”

“I’d like to see those, too.”

They had attended a few business dinners, but he’d informed her to expect the invitations to increase as people grew accustomed to him as the head of HLC. Most they wouldn’t attend, but some—like the upcoming charity events—were a must.

“How is the court case going?”

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