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By Request Collection April-June 2016


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find a cool place in the shade. Tabitha would never know what it was to be hungry again, she vowed as she drifted off to sleep. Or unloved and unwanted. Not while she had breath in her body.

      Melanie awoke on Christmas Eve morning to being kissed deeply and passionately. She opened heavy-lidded eyes to a room full of white light and Forde, clad in nothing but her kitchen apron, smiling at her.

      ‘Your breakfast tray, ma’am.’ He indicated a tray holding a full English breakfast, toast and preserves and a glass of orange juice on the bedside table. ‘Is there anything else madam would like?’

      She would never have dreamt in a million years that a fairly ordinary plastic apron could turn into something so erotic. Remembering the events of the evening before, she raised herself onto her elbow. ‘Tabitha?’

      ‘Fed and happy and downstairs by the kitchen radiator again with her three offspring, who are all doing extremely well. I had a nasty moment when I first woke up because the basket was empty, but once I’d found her and the kittens in the bottom of your wardrobe snuggled in a jumper and put them back in the basket, she seemed quite happy to accept that’s where they all had to stay.’

      ‘In that case there is something else I want.’ The apron was swathed around Forde’s hips and the way his chest hair arrowed to his navel entranced her. He had never looked more sexy. She opened her arms, winding them round his neck when he bent down to her again and pulling him down beside her on the bed. ‘I love you,’ she murmured before kissing him hungrily. ‘So much.’

      ‘Words don’t even begin to say what I feel for you.’ He moved back slightly, taking her face between his hands as he stared into the velvet-brown of her eyes. ‘You do know I’m never going to let you go again? Whatever happens in the future, whatever it holds, we walk it side by side. Mountaintop or valley, good times and bad, I’m not budging, OK?’

      ‘OK.’ She kissed him again.

      ‘And after Christmas I’m taking you home. No argument,’ he said softly.

      ‘Me and Tabitha and her brood.’ Melanie punctuated each word with a kiss. ‘They’re ours now. I always wanted pets one day. I just didn’t expect to have four in one go.’

      ‘We’re keeping them all?’

      ‘Of course. Tabitha deserves that.’

      ‘And me?’ Forde murmured huskily, enfolding her against him so she could feel every inch of his hard arousal. ‘What do I deserve?’

      ‘Everything,’ she whispered throatily.

      ‘Well, in that case …’

      He kissed her until she was pulsing with desire, bringing her to fever-pitch time and time again as he stroked and pleasured her, caressing her until she was trembling in his arms.

      How had she managed to exist these last long, lonely months without him? she thought wildly. But that was all she had done: exist. This was life; being close to Forde, feeling him, loving him. And it wasn’t all about sex, mind-blowing though that was. It was his tenderness, his care towards her, the patience and love he’d shown ever since they’d met. Even when Matthew was taken from them he hadn’t blamed her for one moment; putting his own feelings of grief and sorrow aside to comfort her and be strong. She loved him so much …

      She met him kiss for kiss, caress for caress, and when he finally eased her thighs apart she was shameless in her need of him inside her. They moved together as she grasped him tight and close, the sheer exquisite physical pleasure taking them both to new heights. They climaxed together in perfect unity, wave after wave of sweet, hot gratification causing them to cry out their release.

      They lay wrapped in each other’s arms as they drifted back to reality, the remnants of pleasure taking some time to disperse.

      Forde smiled as he traced her mouth with the tip of his finger. ‘Breakfast is cold,’ he murmured, kissing the tip of her small nose.

      ‘It’ll still taste good.’ Anything would taste good right now. And then, as she felt the baby inside her move more vigorously than it had before, she caught his hand and placed it on her belly. ‘Can you feel that?’

      His face lit up. ‘I think so. It’s just the slightest ripple but, yes, I can feel it.’

      ‘Our child, Forde.’ And as she said it she realised the fear had gone …

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      IT STARTED to snow again just before lunch, but Forde had cleared a path to the logs and coal and they were as snug as bugs in rugs in the cottage. They spent most of the day curled up in front of the fire watching TV in each other’s arms, eating the provisions Forde had brought and observing Tabitha with her kittens. The little cat was eating like a horse, seemingly intent on making up for lost time, and all three kittens seemed remarkably strong considering the state their mother had been in shortly before they were born.

      Mid-afternoon when the snow had stopped and the sky had turned mother-of-pearl with streams of pure silver, they were surprised to hear a knock at the door. The vet stood there, her sturdy legs encased in green wellingtons and thick trousers and her padded jacket making her appear twice as big.

      ‘I’ve just paid a visit to a farm not far from here so I thought I’d look in,’ she said cheerfully, as though she weren’t standing in half a foot of snow. ‘How’s the patient?’

      Melanie made her a hot drink while she examined Tabitha and the kittens, announcing mother and babies to be in remarkably good health considering the odds that had been stacked against them. ‘The little ginger one is a tom,’ she told them, giving the kitten back to Tabitha, who began to give it a thorough clean. ‘And the two black-and-white ones are females. As she seems to be getting on with being a good mother we’ll leave well alone at the moment. Certainly the kittens’ bellies are full and they don’t appear unduly hungry or distressed.’

      She downed her coffee as though she had a tin throat and left, remarking as she stepped out into the cold afternoon, ‘All’s well that ends well, I’m pleased to say.’

      Forde held Melanie’s hand very tight. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘All’s well that ends well. Merry Christmas.’

      They awoke disgracefully late on Christmas Day, having gone to bed early but not to sleep. They had been both playful and intense in their lovemaking, one as eager as the other for the night not to end, until, in the early hours of the morning just before it got light, they’d gone to sleep with their arms round each other.

      The morning was sparkling bright and clear, the sky icy-blue crystal and the scene outside the cottage a winter wonderland. In the far distance they could hear the faint sound of church bells ringing, and the world seemed reborn in its mantle of pure white.

      Forde got up and went downstairs to check on Tabitha and make some coffee, which he brought back to bed after putting the turkey on, causing Melanie to feel deliciously lazy. Her languorous air was abruptly shattered when she saw the small but beautifully wrapped gift next to her coffee and toast, though. She shot up in bed, her voice a wail. ‘Forde, I haven’t got you anything. You shouldn’t have.’

      ‘Yes, I should.’ He smiled at her, amused at the very feminine response. ‘Besides, I had a slight advantage over you, didn’t I? I knew I was coming here. I was going to leave this somewhere for you to find after I had gone,’ he added softly. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to throw yourself on my bosom and beg for my help, nice though that was, I hasten to add.’

      ‘What is it?’

      He joined her in bed, handing the little box to her. ‘See for yourself, but first—’ he took her in his arms and kissed her very thoroughly ‘—happy Christmas, my darling.’

      She undid the ribbon and pulled off the paper before lifting the lid off the box, gasping as she saw