QUOTE : Footsteps sounded on the porch, and she felt a twitter of excitement as Wyatt walked in, hat in hand. He stopped and stared. First at the table, then at her. “Well . . . this is sure a nice welcome.” She grew warm beneath his attention, and warmer still as he crossed the room toward her. He lifted a curl from her bodice and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “It smells good in here.” He smelled good too. She caught a whiff of fresh soap and sunshine, and his hair was still damp. “You bathed in the creek,” she said softly. “Yes, ma’am, I did.” “Well . . .” She gave a breathless laugh. “Breakfast is ready. I hope you’re hungry.” “Yes, ma’am.” His gaze captured hers and held. “I am.” If not for his self-declared patience, she might have been unnerved by the transparency of desire in his eyes. But Wyatt Caradon was her husband. She could stand on tiptoe right now and kiss him full on the mouth if she wanted to. That was her right. And the thing was—she slowly realized—she wanted to. Even more, he wanted her to. Yet he didn’t move. However, he did smile, ever so slightly, and it gave her the encouragement she needed. She rose on tiptoe, and could all but reach him. “You might want to meet me halfway, Mr. Caradon.” Wordless, he did, but stopped just short of completing the journey. Their breaths mingling, she sensed his growing lack of patience, which, oddly enough, only increased hers. She ran a finger along his stubbled jawline and saw his eyes narrow ever so slightly. She’d never been one to toy with a man, but then she’d never been married to one with whom she could toy. She kissed him on one corner of his mouth, then the other. On his cheek, and then gently on the lips, like he’d done with her yesterday at the ceremony. His arms didn’t come around her like she half expected, but not for a moment did she question his response. He was letting her take the lead . . . and she liked it.