“Is there something wrong?”
“No. Nothing is wrong. You look beautiful today. The setting suits you.”
“Flatterer,” she said, smiling, then and came across to him, taking the rubber-backed rug from his hands and shaking it out onto the ground in the sunshine.
“It’s the truth,” Draco replied. “I do not waste my time on lies.”
“Yeah,” Blair said, softly. “I had noticed that about you.”
A tight smile pulled at his lips. What else had she noticed about him, he wondered.
He lifted the cooler from the trunk of the convertible and put it beside the rug. Blair was already sitting cross-legged on the blanket and had eagerly lifted the lid off the cooler and started to put the plates of food and containers of drink onto the rug, using the lid as a small table. Draco grabbed the small loaves of fresh bread Cristiano had baked early this morning and dropped down next to her.
They began to eat, Draco making the most of the setting to explain a little about the olive oil process in Tuscany. Blair had missed the harvest, which had taken place late autumn, the cooler valleys in the region demanding the harvest occur earlier than in other parts of the Mediterranean, and she was fascinated by his description. But before long she was yawning once more.
“I’m sorry, Blair, I didn’t mean to exhaust you on your first day back here.”
“It’s not that. I’ve really enjoyed everything you’ve shown me today. Perhaps it is just a little jet lag still.”
“So sleep.”
“Here?” Blair waved her hand.
“Why not? We won’t be disturbed. The sun is warm. Lie back and relax.”
“I can’t,” she protested. “I don’t sleep during the day. It’s just so…”
“Decadent?” he asked, smiling. Yes, he’d bet she never let up during the day. But if she was going to do the best thing by his baby she would learn to slow down. “So be decadent for a change. Lie down and relax.”
Blair did as he suggested.
“I bet I won’t sleep.”
“We will see. Just listen to the land. Let the sun caress your skin. And relax. Simple, really.”
He watched as her eyelids fluttered closed and smiled again as he saw the tension in her body, as if she was coiled, ready to spring to the next activity. Eventually though, her breathing began to deepen, the muscles in her body slacken. He gave a small nod as she finally slept.
Draco stretched out beside her, taking care not to touch her, but instead watched her. Lying on her back as she was, it was easier to see the subtle changes the pregnancy had wrought on her body so far. The ever-so-slight fullness of her breasts, the tiny rounding of her lower belly, the new roundness to her cheeks which had always been so angular.
He liked the changes, liked what they did for her. Made her appear less untouchable. And just like that, he ached to touch her. To see her naked. To rediscover the intimacy they had shared. And, by the time Blair woke forty minutes later he knew exactly how their afternoon would progress.
Ten
As her eyes opened and she became aware of their surroundings, he leaned over and slanted his mouth across her. A teasing touch, but one that had the power to immediately wring a tiny moan of want from her. Her eyes darkened even more, until her pupils almost consumed the rich chocolate of her irises. A sigh drew past her lips and he breathed it in.
He bent his head to her again, this time taking his time to make love to her lips with his own, drawing her lower lip between his, sucking gently on the tender skin, stroking along its fullness with his tongue.
A shudder ran through him as Blair traced her tongue against his upper lip, in a mirror of what he was doing to her. He let go of her lip and deepened their kiss, hungry for more of her. He positioned himself over her body, holding himself up and away, but feeling her heat imprint through the layer of his clothing and against his skin.
Blair ran her hands up the cords of his arms and he reveled in her touch, in her enthusiasm as her lips met his again and again, as their tongues dueled and tangled together. This thing between them he could understand. It was as elemental and as vital as the energy of the land beneath them.
He supported his weight on one arm and with his other hand flicked open the top buttons of her dress, following the path of his fingers with his mouth. The fabric fell away, exposing the sheer white lace bra that cupped her breasts…breasts topped with hardened rosy peaks that begged for his caress. He lined the edge of her bra with his tongue, following the scalloped pattern with his utmost attention, then swooped against the tight bud pressing against the fine lace. He covered her nipple, still encased in material, with the heat and wetness of his mouth, and drew her into him.