A wicked gleam entered his grey eyes, and he said, “To ravish the fair maiden in my lap.”
Emma giggled as he pulled her closer, his hand cupping her bottom. “I am yours for the taking.”
“What fun is ravishment if you do not put up some resistance?” He asked, mischief tilting the corners of his lips.
She retorted, “Why resist something I will enjoy?”
He brought his face closer to hers. “Minx.”
“Rogue,” she whispered against his lips, then her heart soared as he pressed his mouth to hers. She wound her arms around his shoulders as she parted her lips, her tongue darting out to meet his. Passion engulfed her, liquid fire spreading through her entire body as they kissed.
Archer slid one hand down the length of her back to her bottom, then pulled her down to lie on top of him. Emma reveled in the feel of him beneath her. The desire they shared nearly overwhelming her.
He had once promised her they would be happy, and he’d delivered on that vow every day of their marriage. Even now, all these years later, Emma’s heart soared at the mere sight of her husband. He was everything—her best friend, lover, wonderful father to their children, protector, and confidant.
Had someone told her eight years prior that she would meet her soul mate at the May-Day festival she didn’t even want to attend, she would never have believed them. In fact, she would have laughed out loud at the preposterous idea.
And she would have been wrong.
Emma nipped at Archer’s lip, then stared into his lustful gaze. “Do you remember our first kiss?”
“How could I forget it? You were standing all alone looking every bit the commoner, and I captured you.” His expression turned serious. “It was not a very good first kiss. I’m sorry about that.”
“Do you regret it?” She nibbled at her lower lip as she searched his gaze.
“Never,” he said. “I could regret nothing that brought me to you.”
Emma smiled, then pressed her lips to his. “I think it was a marvelous first kiss,” she said. “And it left us with quite a story to tell.”
“It will always be a May-Day to remember,” he said.
“I believe this one will be too.”
He arched a brow and asked, “Is that so?”
Emma nodded, a broad smile tugging at her lips. “I have a secret.”
“Do you intend to keep it?” He asked.
“I think I would rather share it with you,” she said, then pursed her lips as if she were pondering the idea.
He brushed a curl from her cheek. “I believe you should share it.”
“Oh, very well. If you must know, we are expecting.” Emma plucked a small yellow wildflower and brushed the petals across his jaw.
“Company?” Archer asked, his tone serious, though she saw the playful glint in his eyes.
“Mama, Papa, look what we found!”
Archer sat up, bring Emma with him as their three daughters raced across the hilltop, their nanny in pursuit. Emma grinned at her daughters as she placed her hand on her stomach and wondered what she carried this time.
“It’s a bunny!” Their youngest, two-year-old Sable, called out.
Five-year-old Lilly ran a few paces in front of her baby sister, dark curls bouncing with the effort as their oldest, Margret, led the pack. In the blink of an eye, all three had reached her and Archer.
Sable lunged for Emma, and Archer put out a protective arm, catching the toddler and bringing her to his side. “Careful, darling.”
Emma exchanged a tender look with her husband before turning her attention to the older girls. “What have you there?”
