As for her own hair?No comment.God willing, nobody would know when she started dying it to exactly match her natural color.No visible gray until Abigail graduates from college.Thatwas the deal she made with herself. So, another fifteen years.I’ll be in my mid-50s…
And she would still be married to Henry. Come richer or poorer, sickness and in health.
“Are you just going to sit there with your pants unzipped?” Monica asked his reflection in the mirror. “Or are you changing your clothes?”
“The night is young,” he reminded her. “We don’t have a kid to tuck in tonight.”
“What are you trying to say? That you want to make another one so we have someone to tuck in?” She turned halfway, knees facing him while her elbow remained on her vanity. “Or areyouthe one wanting some tucking in, Henry?”
“Actually, I was thinking…” He stood up, pants still unbuckled as he came up to her and made her address her reflection. “Of tuckingyouin.”
His hands slipped down her chest, grabbing both of her breasts before descending to her stomach. Monica held in giggles as her bun rubbed against Henry’s face.
“What a winning line, Mr. Warren.” Monica leaned against his chest as it pressed up against her. “You could charm me all over again with lines like that.”
He kissed her cheek while his weight pushed her over. “What can I say? A party like that makes a man feel a certain way.”
She figured as much.I hoped as much.Monica’s hand lingered on his arm before he pulled away and returned to bed.
“I think about it a lot,” he said, cutting off her romantic thoughts. “That this was the first room we made love in.”
She grinned at her reflection. “This was the room of many firsts, Henry.”
“I was already in love with you before I ever came in here.” He latched onto one of the bed posts and considered the drapes hanging in front of the windows. “But when you invited me in,it was like being granted a glimpse into your heart. I wanted to learn everything about you. From a distance, though. Didn’t want to scare you off.”
“And did you?”
“Absolutely not, Mrs. Warren.”
I’ve always loved that name.
“Do you remember our wedding night?”
“How could I forget? That was the day you told me you were pregnant.”
Yes, she had been carried away during her wedding reception. She had just found out that she was pregnant with Abigail.Ten weeks already.All the warnings to wait until the second trimester before making announcements flew from her head when she was a bride surrounded by friends. She had to tell the world.
“Yet you didn’t hold back from consummating that marriage, huh?”
“I mean, it was my wedding night. The idea was that it would be the only one.”
She slipped off her stool and stood in front of the bed, where Henry opened his legs to admit her. Her knees braced against the mattress while her hands landed on her lips.
“All I wanted that night was to feel loved and protected,” she said.
“How could you not? We were in our marital bed.” Henry shrugged. “If you couldn’t feel safe with me there, where could you?”
In here.This was Monica’s domain. It had existed before Henry and could exist beyond him.Divorce. Death. I’m ready.Her heart believed in eternal love, but her brain knew it to be practical. Should she suddenly find herself kicked out of Warren Manor, she could return here. Henry’s name was nowhere near the deeds. He had no personal stake in her businesses. While ithelped keep certain things in their marriage clean, Monica was adamant that she have property and at least one enterprise in her nameonly.She had been in love and wrong before.
It could always happen again.
Her husband’s piercing blue eyes left icy adoration on her skin. “Do you know what I see when I look at you, Princess?”
She slightly turned her head toward him, keeping one eye on her fantasy. “Your wife?”
That gaze continued to kiss her. “I see a queen in her domain.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Is that so? I thought I was your princess?”
