Carrying the Lost Heir's Child(8)

                When they stepped into her trailer, Nash locked the door behind him. The cool air-conditioning greeted them. A small light from the tiny kitchenette had been left on, sending a soft glow throughout the narrow space.

                Nash’s heavy-lidded eyes met hers. She knew that look, had seen it nearly every night in person, then again in her dreams later. He could make a woman forget all about reality, all about responsibility.

                This was the first time he’d been in her trailer and she realized just how broad and dominating his presence truly was. A shiver of arousal slid through her.

                “We really should talk about this,” she started, knowing she had lost control of this situation the moment she’d agreed to let him come back to her trailer. “I want you to know I didn’t trap you.”

                “I know.” He closed the gap between them, barely brushing his chest against hers. “I also know that I want you. I wanted you before you broke the news and I still do. A baby doesn’t change the desire I have for you, Lily.”

                Oh, mercy. When he said things like that, when he looked at her like that...how could a girl think straight? Just one look from beneath those heavy lids framed by dark lashes had her body reacting before he could even touch her. This was why they had to sneak around. No way could she be in public with this man when he looked at her like he was ready to eat her up, and she knew she had that same passionate gaze when she looked at him.

                He smelled all masculine and rugged, and pure hardworking man. A man who was gentle with animals and demanding as a lover was pretty much her greatest fantasy come to life. A fantasy she hadn’t even known lived within her until she’d met Nash.

                “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” she stated as his fingertips slid up over her chest and started peeling away the elastic top of her dress. “I mean, we have a lot to talk about, right?”

                Nash nodded, keeping his focus on his task. “We do, but right now you’re responding to my touch. I can’t ignore that. Can you?”

                His gaze met and trapped hers. “Unless you’re ashamed to have the groom in your trailer.”

                Lily reached up, squeezing both of his hands. “I’ve never, ever hinted that I’m ashamed of you, Nash. I’m just not normally a fling girl and whatever we have going on is nobody else’s business. That’s all. I’m not hiding anything else.”

                A brief shadow crossed over his face and Lily wondered if she’d imagined it for a moment because just as fast as it came, it was gone.

                “I can’t deny you,” she whispered. “How can this pull still be so strong?”

                Nash dipped down, gliding his mouth over the curve of her neck, causing her head to fall back. The rasp of his beard against her bare skin always had tingles shooting all over her body. On occasion he’d trimmed his beard back, but thankfully he’d never fully shaved, because Lily figured she was ruined for smooth faces forever after being with Nash.

                “Because passion is such a strong emotion,” he murmured as his lips trailed up her neck. “And what we have is too fierce to sum up in one word.”

                In no time he’d yanked her dress down to pool at her feet. Lily kicked it aside as he quickly worked her free of her strapless bra and panties.

                He reached behind his back and jerked his T-shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side. Those chiseled muscles beneath a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest didn’t come from working out in some air-conditioned gym. Nash’s taut ripples came the old-fashioned way: from hours of manual labor.