Fiancée for Rent by Elizabeth Grey
Epilogue
A year later, I'd undressed in my old bedroom at the farm as Liam watched. This Christmas, he'd come with me as my true husband in every way. In the past months, since our big August Hollywood wedding, we'd lived in the lap of luxury and love. I'd accompanied him on tour when I could. And he, whenever he was in town, had sat by my side on set as I helped direct my movie. A mere thirteen months, give or take a few weeks, I had seen every dream I could have imagined for myself come true.
"Don't bother with a nightgown. Come to bed, my love. I will warm you up," Liam said, his voice deep, seductive, the tone of which shot warmth right through my heart to between my legs.
I turned to where he lounged on my bed in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms I'd bought for him for this trip and nothing else. I'd never get tired of looking at the man. Of course, he wasn't hard on the eyes, with his dark hair overtone and perfectly carved body. Yet, the love we'd found had grown so that every day, he grew more beautiful, inside and out. He'd always gone out of his way to make me feel special and loved.
"Off with your pajamas then," I said.
A slight giggle escaped me as I dove for the covers to fight off the chill on my skin from the drafty farmhouse. The sound of the wind against the window didn't phase me as I watched him yank the material from his body, then pull me to him. My stomach pressed against his rock-hard abs. I would burst if I waited another minute to share my news with him. I had found the idea to tell him here at the farm, the place we fell in love, the hardest secret I'd ever kept for forty-one hours and counting.
"I think I have put on weight," I said, rendering him dumbfounded.
"What weight?"
He pushed me away a bit. His powerful thighs still wrapped around mine even as he took in our naked bodies, or what he could see of them from the waist up.
"I don't see it, baby. I see my gorgeous wife. And, who cares? You could gain any number of pounds and still be sexy."
"Like say maybe twenty-five to thirty-five pounds?"
" Well, that's oddly specific. You never talk of weight. What is going on, Kylie?"
"I'm pregnant, Liam. You are going to be a father. I hope you are okay with that."
"I'm going to be a what?" The question shot from his mouth even as his dark, soulful eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. "I'm going to be a father? We are going to have a baby?"
A laugh escaped me then, loud enough that I put a hand over my mouth to not wake up the house as his hand went to my stomach.
"In there? My baby?"
"Yes, another great rock star yet to be born," I added.
"Or, another great writer or movie producer or actress," he added, his voice higher pitched than usual.
"Oh, god, don't wish an actor or actress on little Hendrix," I admonished, although I felt not an iota of anger at that moment.
"Little Hendrix, huh? Wow, Kylie, I don't know what to say."
"But, you're happy about it. You seem happy about it."
"I am beyond thrilled about it. Over the moon."
"Well, since you brought a guitar of your own with you this time, maybe you can write a song about it."
"I just might."
"I hope you do," I got out as he pulled my body to his and kissed me.
All of the passion that played between us each day took on a powerful tune of its own, setting the air in the room to a fevered ballet only we could hear as our bodies moved together in a dance.
Pressed against him, my body trembled as I struggled for breath. I couldn't care less as long as he never stopped kissing me in this uninhibited, sensual way. I'd never again take a moment of love offered for granted. My first love taught me that, indeed, life was too short. Liam had taught me that wounds, no matter how deep, can heal, and a heart can love again no matter how damaged. Now, from those lessons, a baby would be born, given all his parents had not been able to give him. I did not doubt that given the way the man loved me.