Claiming The Prize (25 page)

Inside, she began packing a few things
as Drago spoke on the phone in the living room.
When he entered and
began adding his clothing to the bag, she asked, “How did you
manage to get my father to agree to this?”

Drago's eyes simmered, a faint smile
touching their corners.

“
I told him that I needed
to enjoy my wife's company undisturbed.
That if this did not
happen, and if I saw my beautiful wife smiling – even her innocent
smile – at Carson once more...
I am jealous for your attention,
milovnik.”

“
Was jealousy what I saw
today, Drago?”
she asked quietly.
“Because I did not like
it.”

The simple statement found its mark
well, causing Drago to cringe inwardly.
Reflecting on his earlier
actions, he understood he had hurt the person he loved.
He expelled
the air from his lungs in a rush.

“
In my anger, Grace, I was
harsh with you.
Forgive me,
ž
ena.
There was no call for my
behavior.”

Packing had ceased during their
conversation, and Grace sat quietly on the bed as Drago stood at
its edge, staring at the open bag between their bodies.
She reached
for his arm, her gentle touch encouraging him to look at her.
When
his eyes rose to meet hers, they burned with unspoken
emotion.

“
I forgive you, love,” her
lips offered as her hand squeezed his arm.
“Now you need to forgive
Carson and let it go.”

Casting the bag from the bed, Drago
embraced his wife.

“
Moja
ž
ena,” he murmured against her hair.
“What you say is true.
I have carried a grudge in my heart, and it
is a burden not only for me.
I've caused it to become a burden to
you also, milovany.”

Grace's heart was suddenly light, and
a comforting peace filled her at her husband's words.
Her love
bloomed brighter as respect swelled in her heart, for her husband
proved anew the reason he alone had earned her love.
Drago had
looked inside his heart and confronted what he found there, not
with excuse or denial, but with honesty.

“
Let go of it, Drago, so
we can focus on one another during our getaway.”

“
I will, sipková,
sweetbriar
,” he
promised.
He slid from the bed onto his knees and poured his
heart's struggle out before the Lord with his wife beside
him.

Chapter 16

Magnolia Hills Bed and Breakfast
draped over the soft swell of the grounds as if proudly aware it
adorned the landscape with its beauty.
Yellow clapboard siding cast
the large, sprawling inn in a warm, welcoming hue while black
shuttered windows gave the formal, crisp appearance of a well
respected establishment.
Stones of various shades of gray fronted
the home's lower exterior, continuing around the side and looming
up into tall archways which encased the expansive patio and outdoor
dining areas.
Used during the winter months when huge fires were
lit in dual fireplaces and hot beverages were served, guests
huddled about the glowing blazes to enjoy clear, starry nights
while cheating winter's chill.

Dusk quickly deepened into dark night
as Drago and Grace found their suite on the second floor of the
great colonial.
Elegant furnishings displayed in classic simplicity
offered a beautiful setting in the interior to match the impressive
outside.
With their only bag quickly dealt with, the couple admired
the handsome suite they would enjoy in privacy for the next few
days.

Cherry wood paneled walls conjured the
vision of a cozy, log cabin retreat, the darkness of the wood
softened by ivory Berber carpeting.
A fire roared in the oversized
stone fireplace, lit by the wonderful staff while they checked in
and shared dinner with the other guests in the dining hall
downstairs.
Spread before the hearth lay a bearskin rug, and Grace
knelt to run her hands over it.

“
This is absolutely
wonderful!”
she declared, taking in the spacious room's
furnishings.
“I feel as if we're in a secluded cabin high in the
mountains.
How did you find this place?”

Pleased with his wife's praise, he
admitted, “It was recommended to me by Ike.
He said he and his wife
stayed here every winter at least once, and he assured me we'd have
a wonderful stay – and complete privacy.”

“
So, he's well acquainted
with the owners?”
she asked, fairly sure of the answer
already.

If Ike recommended the place, he would
be certain about it.

“
That is my impression,”
he smiled in reply.

Grace laughed at herself and
sighed.

“
You know,” she said
wryly, “all through dinner I worried that someone would recognize
you, and our private getaway would be ruined.
I know it would be
unlikely, but that's what made me worry!”

“
No more worries,
milovany.
Our meals will be brought to our room for the remainder
of our stay.”

A knock at the door sounded,
interrupting Drago's reply.
He moved to the door, a puzzled look on
his face.

“
Who is there?”
he called
through the door.

“
Compliments from the
house, sir,” came a woman's cheery answer.

Mrs.
Saunders, the establishment's
owner, stepped inside pushing a small cart.
Thick lenses in wire
rimmed glasses enlarged her watery, blue eyes, and her plump face
was wrinkled with many years of living.
Her jovial smile deepened
them further.

“
I thought you might like
to have something for the evening, Mr.
and Mrs.
Zadrovec.
Now you
just let me know if you need anything,” she said with twinkling
eyes.

Taking a step back from the cart and
clasping her hands together, she added, “It warms my heart to see
young newlyweds here!
Reminds me of when my Arthur and I were
starting out.
But, oh, forgive me for going on!
That was many years
ago, it was.”

Grace, appreciating the woman's
kindness, asked, “And how many years are you and Arthur married,
Mrs.
Saunders?”

The older woman's face lit up at the
question.

“
Bless your heart, honey.
We've had forty-six happy years together as of last
October.”

“
October is a lovely month
for a wedding.
Drago and I were married in October,
too.”

Drago's arm slipped around her waist.
He smiled, seeing his wife so eager to give happiness to
another.

Deciding to participate, he added,
“Mr.
Saunders must be a lucky man.”

Chuckling and raising her hands to her
mouth, Millie Saunders exclaimed, “Oh, he's a charmer, this one is!
Just like my Artie.
I can see you'll have many happy years.
Now let
an old woman get out of the way so you two can get back to one
another.”

She headed toward the door.

“
A simple breakfast is on
the cart.
I didn't want to have to disturb you in the morning.
There will be a full breakfast served downstairs at nine o'clock.
If I don't see you, I'll send up lunch at
eleven-thirty.”

And with that, the silver bun on the
back of her head disappeared out the door.

“
What a sweet woman,”
Grace observed aloud as Drago locked the door.
“It was so
thoughtful of her to bring us something for later.”

She peeked to see what delicacies were
hidden beneath the linen covering, Drago joining her in the
perusal.
Cheese, crackers, and smoked turkey filled one small tray,
and another sat piled with pastries.
A bottle of chilled blush wine
was included as well as a glass decanter of brandy and two matching
tumblers.
A carafe of water and bucket of ice sat on the lower tier
along with rolls, butter, and napkins.

“
I believe our Mrs.
Saunders understands we mean to remain in this room for the
duration of our stay,” Drago chuckled.
“Intuitive woman,” he
whispered in Grace's ear as his arms reached around her to pour the
spirits.

“
I'd like to freshen up a
bit,” she said when he offered the glass, and a moment later, he
heard the water running in the bath.

Swilling the warm brandy in the glass
before downing it, Drago removed his clothing and pulled on cotton,
drawstring pants.
He arranged large cushions on the bear skin rug
and added another log to the fire before settling to admire the
flickering tongues of orange and yellow that danced in primal
abandon.
Heat from the fire and brandy lulled him as he watched the
ever shifting flames rise, twisting together in nature's
choreography.

Tonight he would love his wife
tenderly.
His prayers had gone up, asking that their love would
produce a child.
Their child.
It was time.
He thanked God for
having been gifted with Grace to himself for the year and a half of
their marriage, but eagerly looked forward to seeing her swell with
his child.
She would be a wonderful mother.
Her thoughtful ways and
soft words created a peaceful home for raising sons and daughters,
and her generous nature ensured their children would be well loved
and cared for.
Aunt Visnja and Uncle Slavko had given him the
foundation of a loving home, and with Grace beside him, they would
offer the same to their own children.
God willing.

Grace sank down beside him,
redirecting his thoughts.

Handing her the blush, he
inquired, “Do you feel better?”

“
Very much so,” she
sighed, leaning against his chest.

He moved her between his legs and
pulled her against him, supporting her back with his chest, her
loose hair sliding like silk over his skin.
She sipped the wine,
luxuriating in the comfort of her husband's form behind her and
stared into the crackling fire, mesmerized.

“
It's beautiful, isn't
it?”

“
It's not half as
beautiful as you are,
ž
ena,” Drago responded, and although he could not see her
face, he sensed the blush seeping up her cheeks.

He had known her countless
times in their shared eighteen months of marriage, yet a shy
innocence remained with her, and the knowledge that he still
brought a blush to her skin with his open praise of her beauty
endeared her more deeply to his heart.
His hands smoothed up her
arms over the thin robe she wore.
Pushing the collar aside and
brushing her hair from her shoulder, he kneaded the flesh beneath
with slow deliberation.
She relaxed under his practiced hands, and
her tiny sighs of enjoyment kindled his arousal.

The robe parted and fell to her waist
as his hands roamed her back, exposing her nakedness beneath.
He
lowered his lips to the nape of her neck and feathered kisses along
its feminine curve as his hands molded her tiny waist.
Deeply
breathing in her sweet scent and exhaling against her skin, Drago
felt a shiver pass through her, and when his hand slid up to cup
the underside of her breast, a soft moan escaped her as she arched
into his touch.

The weight of her head rested on his
shoulder, and she turned in search of his lips upon her own.
Covering her mouth with sensuous passion, Drago gave her what she
wanted.
He held her to himself, returning his kisses to her neck,
easing her thighs apart before sliding his finger along her petaled
flesh.
She moaned, reaching behind to caress his rigid length,
eager for him to share her pleasure.

Compulsion to be joined with his wife
in the act of marriage overwhelmed his senses, and he withdrew from
behind her, easing her down upon the soft fur, covering her with
his body.
Drago tenderly claimed her mouth, cupping her face in his
palms and stroking his thumb along her jawline as he eased his body
inside her.
The slow act of filling her tore a groan from him, and
his chest heaved as he stilled, beholding Grace's beauty beneath
him.
The sight of her parted lips and flushed skin brought Drago
perilously close to spilling within her, and he remained
motionless, pinning his love's hips with his own to regain
control.

Dark brown eyes held his gaze, casting
love's net – binding his heart closer to the woman who shared his
name, his life.
No longer differentiating unity of body from mind,
he moved within her and stilled again, captivated by the power of
their intimacy.

“
Milujemtá,
I love you.
”

The tender words spilled from him.
Grace wrapped her arms around his back and smoothed her hands up
the muscled planes as she remained under his watchful gaze.
Never
taking his eyes from hers, Drago withdrew from her body, pausing in
sensual torture before invading her anew.
She arched against him,
yearning for the bliss of his filling presence, urging him on with
her hands and mewling cries, but he continued the languid pace of
loving, entranced in watching her pleasure mount.
Her insides
clenched around his manhood, telling of her impending release, and
he thrust into her, savoring the moment of her climax.
Reveling in
the joy of his wife clasped around him, Drago gave into his own
need and spent within her.

Holding her next to him in the low
firelight, Drago remained awake long after she slept in his arms,
marveling at the woman beside him.

* * *

Grace shivered in her slumber, waking
Drago from his own.
Easing from her side, he built the fire up as
quietly as he could.
The twinge of worry skirted his mind, still,
at the memory of how ill she had been just two months
ago.

Flames sprang again to full life as
the fresh logs succumbed to the fire's consuming tongues.
Lying
behind her, Drago wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her
snugly against his chest.
She stirred, molding more closely, and
settled.
The rise and fall of her abdomen beneath his hand bespoke
of her return to deep sleep, and he took the time to appraise her
beauty yet again.
Feeling the soft curve of her belly in his palm
conjured the thought of his seed taking root in her womb.
A smile
played on his lips, and he pressed his hand to her more
firmly.