She looked up at him through her lashes, her voice smooth as silk. "So, you're saying I'm good for your mental health?"
He gave a low, rumbling laugh. "Essential," he said. "And besides, with your looks and my superior brain, the twins will probably run the world."
Rune tilted her head, half-teasing, half-touched. "That's quite a recovery, Dorian. And are you calling me stupid?"
Dorian replied, "You did stick with me for six years while I had my head stuck in my arse."
Rune considered it and nodded. He did have a point.
"At least let me put some clothes on", she grumbled as she headed for the stairs. He stayed close behind, hands ready as though she might topple over at any second.
When she glanced back, she caught the grin tugging at his mouth. "You're going to be of no use if you are staring at my butt all the time."
"Observing," he said innocently. "Purely for safety reasons."
Rune rolled her eyes as she slowly took the stairs with his hands loosely on her waist from behind. But the corner of her mouth curved. "It's unfair, you know. You get to walk around almost fully dressed while I..."
He cut her off with a laugh. "Easily remedied. Let's get you into the shower first."
"Dorian..."
He only smiled wider, an unfamiliar boyish gleam in his eyes that softened the sharpness of him. "Fine. Truce. No double standards."
She shook her head, half exasperated, half endeared. "You're impossible."
"And yet you're still here, lusting after my body," he murmured, following her the rest of the way upstairs.
There was something light in the air now, playful and easy. It wasn't the tense, desperate need of before but the quiet warmth of two people rediscovering each other.
***
Steam filled the bathroom, blurring the edges of everything, the tiles, their shadows, even the distance that divided them. Dorian joined her wordlessly, his hands gentle as he helped rinse the shampoo from her hair. He worked with slow, deliberate care, massaging her scalp until she melted beneath his touch. He reached for the conditioner next, running his fingers through her hair with the same precision he used on a problem he was trying to fix. The slow strokes of his strong fingers almost pulled her into a stupor. Rune closed her eyes, letting him take care of her in a way she sensed he needed to. It was not the hurried kind of closeness she had once known with him, but a kind that felt more intimate.
When he asked if he could touch her belly, his voice still carrying a thread of uncertainty. She nodded, too choked to answer. His hand hesitantly rested there, warm and reverent, and she was grateful for the curtain of steam that hid her teary eyes. Afterwards, he wrapped her in a towel, fussing over her until she looked like she'd been swaddled in clouds. He had said nothing about the water being hot enough to scald, just smiled faintly and turned it down before taking a quick shower of his own.
Rune stood at the mirror, watching him through the haze. When he bent to turn off the tap, she reached out and brushed her fingers down his back, a light, fleeting touch that made him look over his shoulder and smile. It wasn't about the desire just beneath the surface still. It was about the quiet relief of letting go of the anger and being able to reach for what she had wanted in her heart of hearts.
When he finished, he walked her to her room, turned down the quilt, and nodded toward the bed. "In you go," he said gently. She slipped under the covers, eyes heavy, expecting him to sleep in the guest bedroom. Her bed was a small double bed, and Dorian liked his space. But after a few minutes, she heard the soft creak of the stairs, the click of doors being locked, and then the mattress dipped beside her.
He settled behind her, one arm under her head, the other around her waist, his hand brushing lightly across the curve of her stomach. She pressed back against his hardness pressing against her bare buttocks while smiling drowsily, but he only murmured against her neck, "Go to sleep…love."
The world outside faded to rain and quiet breaths. Everything didn't feel difficult anymore.
Chapter thirty-eight
Chapter 38
Rune woke the next morning feeling unusually rested. Sixteen weeks along, the fatigue still came and went, but today she felt lighter than a cloud.
Dorian's arm was draped loosely around her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. They had never really slept like this before, with no tension and no distance as if the world outside had decided to pause for them.
The clock on the wall read nine. For a man who usually woke before dawn, Dorian sleeping in felt like a small miracle. She smiled and decided to let him have a break. Learning new stuff had to be hard. But a moment later, his arm tightened, drawing her back against him.
"Mmm," he murmured into her hair, voice rough with sleep. She felt the faint movement of his hand slide down, coming to rest protectively over the small curve of her stomach as his morning wood pressed insistently against her butt.
"Good morning," she whispered.
"Morning," he said, half-asleep as his hips moved sensually against her.
