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I have brought her here.

Lucien Delano looked about as the phone pinged. His son Piers had sent a message.

He frowned.

His Woman lay beside him, along with the little son, all of seven months, at her breast, suckling greedily, for Proserpina made it a point to bring the babe into the bedroom for his morning feed. Lucien would never tire of watching the moment between his woman and their child, the babe tugging greedily at her teat and her look of love as she gently stroked the head of soft blonde curls.

This one had also inherited his father’s colouring, she had remarked crossly.

The baby’s fist was clenched tightly and Lucien used to force his thick, calloused finger into the tight fist, a feeling of wonder coursing through him as he watched his lovely wife, her body still fresh from his fierce lovemaking of the night before, as she sighed in contentment, in love, and held the child cupped to her breast lovingly.

He had been kissing her, as they lay, content in each other’s company while the baby nursed at h
S.K.Taylor

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