George Raymond, his look apologetic, was waiting for him when Riley stepped in the front door. "Hannah's upstairs."
Riley didn't trust himself to say one word. He bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Tapping lightly against the bedroom door, he waited until Hannah answered before letting himself in.
She was sitting on top of the bed, in a sexless flannel nightgown, brushing her hair. She cast her gaze selfconsciously downward as he walked into the room and started unbuttoning his shirt after pulling it free from his waist.
He wished she'd say something. She didn't.
Riley sat on the side of the mattress, his back to his wife, and removed his shoes and socks. When he stood to unbuckle his pants, Hannah peeled back the bedspread.
"I… generally read for a while before I turn out the light," she said softly. "You don't mind, do you?"
"No."
With a maddening lack of haste, she walked around the end of the bed and rooted through the suitcase for her book. Bending over the way she did offered Riley a tantalizing view of her long, slim legs. It wasn't more than a fleeting glimpse, but then it didn't take much to get his juices flowing. Riley wondered how the hell he was going to lie next to her all night and not touch her.
Hannah was worried about Riley. In her heart, she knew her father hadn't meant to hurt her. Or Riley. Even now, George Raymond seemed oblivious to what he'd done. Rather than cause a strain in their close relationship, she'd silently gone up the stairs following the candlelight service to wait for Riley. He seemed to take forever to join her. Not everything her father did was thoughtless or ill-advised; by chance he'd managed to get her and Riley into bed together, which was a feat she'd been working toward for weeks.
Had she realized they'd be sharing a bed when she packed, Hannah realized sadly, she would have brought her silky peach gown. Pregnancy or no pregnancy, she wanted to view Riley's reaction when she wore it.