‘But he’ll need to soon.’
Irrespective of how well things had been going between them, her hackles quivered. They’d been through this. ‘I don’t want to hide it. I just don’t feel a need to blurt it to the world.’
Her body. Her privacy. Her prerogative.
And there was another reason for not jumping in and telling everyone at work—the first twelve weeks of pregnancy were known for incidents of miscarriage. But she had entered her second trimester, thank heaven, and was discovering a whole new interesting side to her fluctuating hormone journey.
Cooper seemed to read her mind.
‘What were you looking up on the net last night? You shut the page when I came into the study.’
Sophie quashed a jab of embarrassment and twisted her mouth. ‘Hmm … sorry.’ She shrugged. ‘Can’t remember.’
He laughed—a deep, rich, scrumptious sound. ‘You look as guilty now as you did then.’ He gave her the evil eye. ‘You weren’t tinkering with the naughty sites, were you?’
She dug deep for an answer. ‘Not exactly.’ Then, more firmly, ‘No.’
They collected a bag of dry food pellets and entered a reserve full of kangaroos and wallabies but, almost at closing time, devoid of humans. The minty smell of eucalypt was close to overpowering.
Opening a pellet bag, Cooper walked around her. ‘I see you’re trying your best to intrigue me.’
He followed as she trod carefully up to a grazing wallaby. Sophie crouched, and glowed inside when the sweet little face nuzzled into her hand. Their eyelashes were so long—she ran a palm down its back—and their fur so incredibly soft.
Cooper nudged again. ‘Anything you want to share, Sophie? I’m all ears.’
The wallaby’s wet nose wriggled against the pocket of her palm, full of pellets. She shrugged again. ‘Just information about being pregnant.’
They stood back as a six-foot emu, Australia’s flightless national bird, trotted by.
‘I feel as though I’m pulling teeth.’ Cooper stuffed his empty wrap into his back pocket. ‘Will you tell me what you were researching, or do I get worried?’
She shook the rest of her bag’s contents onto the ground, and two more wallabies edged over on their long tails and hind legs.
He wanted to know.
She inhaled deeply.
Okay. She would tell him.
‘Fluctuating hormones.’ She knew she ought to zip her lip now, but a force greater than common sense seemed to spur her on. ‘Some women experience a phenomenon where their sex drive increases in the second trimester. Husbands sometimes complain they can’t keep up.’
She stole a glance at Cooper.
His lopsided grin said, I can keep up.
Avoiding his eyes, she moved towards the smooth dimpled bark of a giant gum tree. ‘It also says that this phenomenon might be linked to women’s basic need for reassurance during this time.’
That’s quite enough, Sophie.
After dusting his hands on his chambray button-down shirt, Cooper joined her.
Pressed against the trunk, hands fanned behind her at the pit of her back, she still couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Not even when he stood close enough for that mesmerising innate heat to seep though her clothing, burrow through her skin, and find that secret place deep inside. The force was so tangible she pictured red and blue flames leaping to life.
They’d made love for an endless night and half a day. Had seen each other dressed in nothing but desire. Yet her cheeks burned with the blatant implication of her own words. Did she want to take them back?
Sophie’s shoulders sagged. Foolish or not, she wanted the safety of his strong sinewy arms around her. The urge for contact had become so overpowering lately that twice this week vivid dreams had woken her …
Cooper’s hard-muscled body above her.
Adoring lips nipping hers.
Hot male scent convincing her more and more.
His sable voice wove out to soothe her. ‘If you can’t say it, Sophie, I will.’
She closed her eyes and shivered as his warm breath stirred her hair and hot fingers threaded back the curls fallen over her face. He cupped her hip and scooped till he’d prised her away from the wood.
‘We want each other,’ he told her. ‘We’re not kids. Nothing is bad or wrong with feeling strong physical attraction towards a person you care about.’
Sophie’s heartbeat skipped, then she smiled. He cared about her? As much as she’d come to care for him?
Cooper murmured against her crown. ‘Here’s something else to think about. What if we make love two or three more times and the sparks fizzle and die? Shouldn’t we find out whether our physical attraction is long-term or just a flash in the pan?’
Sophie grinned. Oh, he was smooth. She had a big feeling her sparks for him would never fizzle.
Which sounded romantic, but in reality wasn’t necessarily a good thing. If this trial failed—if she still believed he wanted to marry the chicken who had incubated his egg rather than the person he respected, valued and, yes, maybe even loved—she didn’t want to be hung up on a lost cause all the lonely years of her life.
He brushed aside more stubborn curls on her brow. When he dotted a soft kiss on her hairline, her core squeezed with the unmistakable sweet pang of longing. Concentrating on the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat, she breathed in and out, then, forcing herself over caution’s edge, walked her fingers up his shirtfront.
Thing was, he did have a valid point. Didn’t he? Maybe they really ought to check out whether their compatibility in the bedroom was not only as real and wonderful as she remembered, but also whether it would last beyond a night … a week … a month …
His hand framed her face as his thumb worked a light, relaxing circle at her temple. ‘We need to check those waters out thoroughly.’ His mouth caressed the spot. ‘Very thoroughly.’ He groaned and held her closer. ‘Very, very thoroughly.’
Her mouth drifted over and skimmed his. ‘Cooper?’
‘Yes, sweetheart?’
Sweetheart.
She smiled. ‘I get the picture.’
Smiling back, he tasted her parted lips.
Her arms gradually linked around his neck, and he gathered her in for a passionate and meaningful no-holds-barred kiss.
A thunderbolt of searing heat fell through her middle and down her legs, before gushing back up in a fanfare of tingling bright lights. Hanging on tight, she invited him in fully, revelling in the fire that burned and leapt inside her. Time converged in on itself, a twirling, giddy spin that left her breathless, weak and needing more.
Needing it all.
When the kiss ended, Cooper’s breathing was laboured, his voice thick. He nipped her bottom lip. ‘We need to go home or the kangaroos are going to sell tickets.’
She floated up from her dreamy haze to see an audience of marsupials arced around them, eyes bright, apparently most eager to witness the next stage.
He found her gaze. ‘I might not believe in black cats and lucky charms, but I do believe our night together wasn’t a mistake. This isn’t a mistake. I want you, Sophie.’
He stole another penetrating kiss that melted the last of her resistance before reluctantly drawing away.
His