“Why didn’t you tell me your mother was sick?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to.” She closed her eyes, thinking back to the times she’d shared with Brock. “I didn’t want my time with you tainted with any of my problems. Those moments we shared together—it was like you and I were on a private island and nothing or no one could trespass.” She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “Afterward, I had my work and you had yours, but that time together was precious. It had to be protected.”
Brock reached across the table, his hand covering hers. “I can take care of your mother’s medical treatments.”
She immediately shook her head, swallowing a quick taste of bitterness at the havoc her grandfather had created in her life. “No,” she said. “Let him pay. It’s the least he can do for all the trouble he has caused.”
Brock’s gaze gentled. “You’re lucky you have such a good relationship with your mother,” he said. “I admire your devotion to her.”
Five
After a long shower, Elle wrapped a towel around herself and ran the blow dryer through her hair. She would clip the tags off her new robe in just a moment, she promised herself, looking forward to the luxurious sensation of silk over her skin. She suspected there’d be no sensual pleasures in her near future. They were, after all, sleeping in separate rooms.
Closing her eyes and mind to her thoughts, she concentrated on the warm air dancing through her hair and over her shoulders. A few seconds passed and she opened her eyes, finding Brock standing in front of her, bare-chested with a small tray in one of his hands.
Startled, she dropped the dryer. “Oh, my,” she said, bending down to turn it off. As she leaned forward, her towel dropped to her waist. Swearing under her breath, she lifted it to cover her chest and stood.
“I knocked,” he said, his gaze sliding across her towel-covered body.
“I didn’t hear you,” she said, sensing awareness twist and turn between them. She felt heat rush to her face.
“I was downstairs and the housekeeper thought you might like some juice and cookies,” he said.
Elle smiled and took the small tray from him. Still holding on to her towel, she carefully set it on the dresser. “That was nice. She’s so sweet, but she fusses over me more than my mother.”
“Maybe because you’re so busy taking care of your mother,” he said.
“Maybe,” she said, too aware of his presence so close to her. She knew his body intimately. At the moment, he wore a pair of pajama bottoms that dipped below his ripped abs and belly button. She remembered sliding her hands over his wide shoulders while he kissed her deeply. It was all too easy to recall the sexy gasp he made when she touched him intimately.
“Elle,” Brock said. “What are you thinking right now?”
She bit her lip and looked away. “Nothing important. Nothing worth—”
He touched her arm and her denial stuck in her throat. It had been two weeks since they’d been intimate, and God help her, she’d missed him. Even through the morning sickness. She’d missed being with him, away from everything and everyone else.
“I can’t believe you still want me,” she whispered.
He pulled her toward him and the sensation of his strong chest against her nearly buckled her knees. She deliberately stiffened them.
“Why not?” he asked. He skimmed his hand down to the small of her back and pressed her into him.
The obvious strength of his arousal shocked her. She searched his gaze for clues to his emotions. “But after what I did,” she said. “How could—”
He moved his other hand up to the back of her head, sliding his fingers through her hair, tilting her head so that her mouth was completely accessible to him. “Let’s not overthink it.”
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her possessively. Should she be asking for more than sex? she wondered. Maybe not, she thought as his tongue slid past her lips and caressed hers. Maybe he was right. Maybe she should stop thinking and concentrate on feeling. What did she have to lose?
Dropping the towel, she lifted her hands to the back of his neck and surrendered to the moment.
Brock gave a low, barely audible growl and pushed the towel to the floor. When her bare breasts pressed against his chest, she sighed. He groaned. He slid one of his hands over her nipple and she gasped, feeling a correlating electricity between her legs.
“Problem?” he asked, rubbing his lips over hers.
“I’m more sensitive since I’m—” He rubbed her nipple again and she sucked in another breath as she felt herself grow swollen.