"You're going to be able to stay home, then?"
Her joy could not be contained.
"Yes, I'll be performing duties about town, but I'll be home for the next four months, at least."
Throwing her arms around him, she couldn't contain her tears.
"My love, you know I hate it when you cry."
"I can't help it," she said, pulling back and wiping at her tears. "Everything always seems so...I'm not even sure. One moment, I'm happy, the next I'm angry. One moment, I can't stand the sight of you and the next...well..."
He smiled, his hand coming up to push back her hair. "I'm not entirely sure if I'm enjoying your pregnancy or despising it."
Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the table of flowers she'd been cutting. "It's not as if we don't make love constantly, anyway."
His arms slid about her waist from behind as he molded himself around her. She nearly jumped when his teeth nipped at her throat.
"How is it that you smell so good all the time?"
Smiling, she tilted her head from him in an attempt to escape his little bites, but he simply followed her.
"It's called bathing. You should try it sometime."
His hands slid upward to cup her breasts, teasing her through the material of her dress. "Perhaps you should show me how."
Once again rolling her eyes, she picked up another bundle of flowers. "Am I going to have two children clinging to me soon? You do realize all of our wondrous activities are about to halt very abruptly, don't you?"
"We'll see," he mumbled as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her dress to cup her bare breast, his thumb toying with her nipple.
"You're in for a rude awakening, my love."
His other hand slid to lie against her center, his fingers pressing hard against her through her simple dress.
"Mhm..."
"Ichabod...I'm busy."
Even as she said the words, she found herself pressing into his body for more contact, his arousal evident against her back.
"So am I," he whispered against her ear as he began lifting her dress up the back of her legs.
"Ichabod, it's getting too difficult to do this."
"I promise we'll make do, my love."
Finally having bunched her dress at the waist, he moved his hand around to tease her entrance.
"Ichabod..."
A moan fell from him when his finger slid through her slick arousal. "For so much protestation, you seem awfully ready."
She smiled as two of his fingers easily slid within her causing her breath to hitch for a moment as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, catching his eyes. "Perhaps, I'm simply better able to control myself than you."
"I'm sure," he whispered as his thumb pressed against her, drawing a small gasp from her.
As she pressed further back into him, she once again felt his arousal at her back. "Are you going to do something with that?"
He chuckled and pulled his fingers from her, forcing a moan of protest to leave her.
"Patience," he scolded as he undid the buttons on his trousers.
"I possess very little patience and none of it is used concerning this."
His hands were back on her in record time, one's fingers easing back into her while the other rested at her neck to turn her face into him for a rather filthy kiss, his tongue, warm and wet, sliding around hers.
Fully enjoying his tongue exploring the deep corners of her mouth, she reached behind her to grasp him in her fingers.
"Katrina, don't," he said lowly, his voice thick with desire. "Not yet."
Nodding, she sucked in a breath as his lips journeyed along her jaw, his tongue dragging along her skin as his fingers drug against her walls.
As she felt that familiar sensation begin to creep along her, she began to lose her stance, her body going slightly weak against him.
Before she had time to gain her bearings, he'd pulled his fingers from her and caught both of her hands in his own before bringing them to the table in front of them. Not a moment later, she felt him at her entrance, hard and ready.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes," she barely got out before he was filling her, his entire length finding a home inside her.
For a moment, he stilled, his head falling to her back. "You feel so good, my love."
His fingers dug into her hips as he began his movements, a variation of rough and gentle. While he busied himself behind her, she clawed at the wood beneath her fingers as she attempted to breathe properly. The sensations consuming her were threatening to drop her to the floor, which she feared might actually happen if not for his hands holding her firmly in place.
As he became more frenzied in his thrusts, she had to bite back a scream as his fingers slid to quickly stroke her into yet another orgasm.
When she finished quaking like a mess beneath him, she pushed back against him, one of her hands supported on the table while the other searched for his face. Finding it, she pulled him forward into a rather frenzied kiss as he continued to move within her until he gave that one final thrust that left his warmth deep inside her, filling her completely.
"That was..."
"Perfect," he finished as he pulled from her, dropping her dress back down.
Regaining some semblance of control, she brought a hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes as his hands found her waist again, pulling her back into him, his face nuzzling her neck. "I love you."
Unable to stop her smile, she slid a hand up to tangle in his hair. "I love you, too."
With a light kiss to her neck, he whispered, "I'm so happy to be here with you, to know I'll still be here when our child comes."
Heart in her throat, she answered softly, "I find words to be lacking in the description of my joy over that knowledge, my love."
A knock at the front door echoed throughout the house.
"Leave it," he mumbled against her skin.
Turning to him, she smiled as another knock echoed. "It could be important."
He stepped into her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, his head falling to its home in her neck. "Katrina..."
With a kiss to his cheek, she disentangled herself from him. "I'll be right back."
When she opened the door, she found the last person she expected.
"Abraham."
He nodded, his head bowing in his ever courteous fashion. "Katrina, you look lovely."
At a loss for words, she frowned. "What-what are you doing here?"
With a sigh, he held his hands out. "I wanted to come and personally apologize for my mother's behavior yesterday. It was completely inappropriate."
"Thank you," she said, unsure what more she could say.
"Is Ichabod home? I was hoping he and I could speak."
"Uhm," she hesitated, glancing back into the house, before returning her attention to Abraham. "Yes, he's here. Please, come in."
Smiling, she stepped aside to allow him through the door.
"This is a lovely house. It was your mother's childhood home, was it not?"
She followed his gaze about the parlor. "Yes, it was."
Abraham nodded as he continued to glance about.
"He's just through here."
With a small smile, she led him into the kitchen to find Ichabod leaning against the table in a slouched stature, clearly still pouting at her departure from him.
"Ichabod, Abraham's here to see you."
He jerked his gaze to her. "Oh," he said, standing up straight and clearing his throat. "Abraham."
Abraham gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to drop by unannounced, but I was hoping to speak with you, with both of you actually."
Ichabod's eyebrows rose. "Alright."
"I know things are rather awkward between the three of us and I'm not going to say I'm not still upset."
She tensed slightly, glancing at Ichabod, who looked just as worried as she felt.
Abraham continued, catching her eyes. "But I'm willing to attempt putting my own feelings aside to maintain our friendship. The two of you mean so much to me and I would hate to know I'd lost two of my closest friends."
Ichabod slowly nodded. "That's...well, that sounds wonderful, Abraham"
While Ichabod was quick to accept, something about Abraham still unnerved her.
"Yes..." she whispered. "Wonderful."
"Well," Abraham continued. "I'm glad we have that out of the way. I was a bit worried you wouldn't forgive me."
Ichabod stepped forward and laid a hand to Abraham's shoulder. "There's nothing to forgive, Abraham. We all did things we shouldn't have."
It was on the tip of her tongue to once again remind her husband that they hadn't done anything wrong, but his obvious happiness at having his friend back stayed her words. She hated that was becoming a quality of hers, putting what he wanted above what she knew to be right.
Abraham cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could all have dinner sometime, to catch up."
Ichabod nodded with a broad smile. "Yes, you should join Katrina and I for dinner here soon."
The urge to scream at Ichabod entered her, but she once again stayed her words.
Abraham clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! I really must be going, but," he glanced to her. "Perhaps sometime this week?"
She gave a tight smile. "Perfect."
Once the two men were out of the room, she turned back to her flowers, thoroughly frustrated. The very idea of Abraham von Brunt in her home set her body on edge.
"If you remove any more of the stem, you're going to be left with nothing more than the petals."
She clenched her jaw. "Perhaps you should tend to what you know, dear husband, and I'll tend to what I know."
"Are you really so angry with me over inviting him to dine with us."
Shaking her head, she muttered, "I'm not angry."
He moved closer, his proximity only furthering her agitation as he leaned his back against the table.
"He apologized, Katrina."
"And you think he actually meant it?" she asked, nearly slicing her finger as she cut at the stem in her hand.
"Why wouldn't he?" he asked, his hands coming up to signal his own frustration. "He has nothing to gain from an apology."
She threw him an incredulous glare. "Are you really that naive, Ichabod?" His frown prompted a chuckle from her. "Surely you know the best way to hurt someone is to get close to them first." She raised an eyebrow. "Does the saying, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' ring any bells for you?"
He rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "You're being too judgmental. He's done nothing to suggest he harbors any ill will towards us."
"He makes me feel uncomfortable, Ichabod."
"Perhaps that's your own guilt causing that feeling," he accused with a glare of his own.
"I have nothing to feel guilty for concerning Abraham von Brunt!" she spat out. "You are the one who has always felt guilty for loving me."
His eyes widened. "That's absurd! I do not feel guilty for loving you."
She huffed as she threw her scissors to the table. "I'm not fighting with you over this."
As she turned to leave the room, his hand reached out and grasped her arm. When he was in front of her, he narrowed his eyes and whispered heatedly, "I do not feel guilty for loving you, Katrina."
Try as she may, she couldn't break his hold on her arm.
"Let me go, Ichabod." She was very near to the point of flinging him across the room.
Instead of doing as she asked, he tightened his hold on her as he backed her into the table, his face hovering directly in front of hers.
"I will never let you go," he forcefully declared. "Never."
With that promise, his mouth covered hers. It wasn't surprising, but it was unwelcome. Shoving at his chest proved pointless as did trying to bring a knee up as he only caught her thigh between his legs.
He pulled back momentarily, his lips brushing hers with his words. "Don't you know you would regret that as much as I?"
Not waiting for a response, he once again consumed her, his tongue almost immediately forcing its way between her lips and touching her own, to which she couldn't help her moan. She was well aware that giving in to him would not accomplish a thing. Ichabod's use of sex to persuade her nearly always worked, but this time she wasn't having it. Conjuring just enough power to shove him away, she slipped out of his grasp before turning on him heatedly.
"Don't touch me again."
He took a step toward her. "Katrina-"
"No!" she yelled, holding up a hand. "Why can't the fact that I want nothing to do with that man be enough for you?"
For a moment, he remained silent, his eyes dancing over her in clear doubt.
"There are so many other people you could be friends with, Ichabod. Everyone loves you. It would be so easy for you to find someone else to confide in."
He shook his head as he slumped against the table. "No matter how you phrase it or try to convince me, I...I still feel as if I betrayed him."
"Ichabod..." she started sympathetically.
"I can't help it, Katrina. If our roles had been reversed and you'd left me for him..." His eyes met hers. "What if I had chosen someone else over you?"
Stepping forward, she threaded her fingers through his. "It would have devastated me," she whispered. "But the difference is...Abraham was not in love with me."
Ichabod shook his head. "Yes, he was, Katrina. Perhaps not as deeply as I am, but he was in love with you, at least in his own way. I know it wasn't real love, but...you know as well as I that we hurt him. And it seems to me that he may still feel for you the way he did then."
Deciding not to argue the issue, she changed course. "Then, why are you so willing to allow him around me?"
He smiled. "Well, if you're implying I should worry over it, I don't. I'm not afraid anything will actually happen."
She rolled her eyes, grateful for some levity. "How do you know I don't harbor any romantic feelings for him?"
Eyebrows high, he leaned close to brush his lips over hers as his hands crept about her waist, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. When his kisses trailed up her jaw line and came in contact with her ear, her body jerked in his arms.
"Ichabod..."
He pulled back with a smirk. "I'm not worried."
Rolling her eyes, she stepped back from him. "Sometimes I really dislike you." She frowned as he chuckled. "Actually, most of the time I dislike you."
His chuckling ceased when her hands reached up to begin teasingly unlacing her dress.
As his eyes followed her hands, she raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to finish what you just started?"
His smirk returned. "Without an ounce of guilt."