He shakes his head slowly. “I’m doing you a favor. If you think it’s bad now, just wait until you hear me say I love you while I’m in the middle of proving it to you. There’s no coming back from that, and you know it.”
A whole new brand of desire overtakes me, one so strong it clouds my vision. I have to blink to regain my sense of sight, then remind myself how to breathe. Hell, I think my lady parts are applauding him for that one.
“You might be right,” I concede, a chill running through me as I recall how close we were to that very scenario. “All the more reason to wait, I suppose.”
“No sex until marriage?” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I mean, I guess, if it’sthatimportant to you.”
My hand flies up to my mouth when a cackle threatens to escape, and he tugs it away, forcing the laugh out.
“You may have gotten me to admit that I like you and that it could never be just physical between us, but I’m still not sold on asecond marriage. So I hope you realize you’re setting yourself up for a long, torturous, and most likely fruitless wait,” I tell him.
“I’m not worried,” he replies cooly, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am a very,” he pauses to brush a kiss over my knuckles, making my stomach dip, “very,” he emphasizes and punctuates with another kiss, “very patient man, especially once I know what I want.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
claire
I’m pleasantlysurprised to awaken in Rowan’s arms the next morning. He’s usually up early, but today he skips the run and lingers in bed, sighing contentedly and pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. And I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as he tightens his hold around me.
“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” I begin. “But I’m afraid I’m going to ruin the mood if I don’t get to the bathroom in the next minute.”
“Fine. Hurry back, though,” he says with a playful tap on the butt as soon as he lets me go.
The second I roll over, I feel it—the dreaded gush announcing the start of my period. I groan and clench all of my core muscles as I waddle to the bathroom.
“Whatever you do, don’t look at the sheets!” I call out when I get to the toilet and see that I’ve already bled through my clothes. I wouldn’t have normally gone to bed without any protection so close to P-Day, but last night wasn’t exactly routine. Thankfully, I keep clean underwear and a fancy robe in my bathroom for such an occasion.
By the time I make it back, Rowan has already stripped the sheets and is carrying the bundle out the door. He’s also managed to retrievehis glasses, though he didn’t bother getting dressed. Not that I’m complaining.
“What are you doing?” I ask, following him.
“Getting these in the wash before the stain sets in,” he replies matter-of-factly.
I cross my arms over my middle. “Are you really taking care of my period sheets?”
The corner of his mouth lifts when he turns to glare at me. “Am I supposed to be afraid of a little menstrual blood?”
“Fair enough, Doc,” I say with an eye roll.
He chuckles quietly as he ventures down the hallway in nothing but his boxers, and I pause to admire the view. Rowan might be right about this whole religion thing after all, because I certainly owe God my gratitude for creating the masterpiece in front of me.
As soon as I acknowledge the thought, an overwhelming sense of comfort and peace washes over me, as if I’ve been enveloped within a warm embrace.
My eyes water unexpectedly when I imagine it being God’s reply to my silly, half-irreverent prayer. Then, an even crazier idea fills my mind, a flower blooming from the notion Daisy planted yesterday, and I find myself considering whether this man could have beenmade for me.
Is it possible Rowan isn’t simply some random guy I rescued from an allergic reaction, but the person sent specifically to saveme? He might even be a custom build, designed to meet my specifications long before I knew any better, and he’s been aging to perfection until I could finally recognize him for what he is—exactly what I’ve always needed.
And if that were all true, wouldn’t it mean I was also made just for him, flaws and all?
I let out an incredulous laugh and dry my eyes, resolving to keep those thoughts close to my heart for now.
Rowan returns as I’m retrieving a set of clean sheets from the linen closet and wordlessly falls in, helping me make the bed and smiling as hepulls the covers back and gestures for me to slide in first. My own grin widens when he slips in beside me and draws me into his arms again, as if he really meant it before when he said his time with me is never wasted.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his lips finding my shoulder this time.
“Like I’d rather stay in bed all day,” I reply, and he hums.
“Should I reschedule my patients and stick around to take care of you?”
