His Secretary's Surprise Fiancé(25)

"The catering staff is still here," he reminded her, peering over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

They hadn't seen anyone since dessert was brought out, but two servers  waited behind the scenes to clear their dishes and put away the  leftovers.

"I'll bet they won't mind billing you for a fondue pot if I bring it upstairs with me."

Releasing her feet, he pushed back from the table in a hurry. He took  the sauce from her, securing it under one arm, and then pulled out her  chair to give her more room to stand.

A gentleman.

"No." He put a hand on her back and guided her away from the staircase.  "Your room this time. You've got that big tub for afterward, and I  think we're going to need it."

A thrill shot through her. Something about this new pact she'd made  with herself-to live in the moment and store up these memories-made her  bolder. More willing to take chances with him and see what happened.

He was already prepared to walk away from their engagement in three  more weeks, so why not at least ask for the things she wanted in a way  she never had before? Chocolate sauce all over Dempsey... It was the  stuff of fantasies.                       
       
           



       

Except once they closed the door to her bedroom, he set her decadent  treat on the glass top of a double dresser, and then spun her in his  arms. A whirlwind of raw masculinity, he hauled her up in his arms and  carried her toward the large bathroom, his eyes blazing with undeniable  heat.

"Dessert?" she asked, walking her fingers up his chest, her breathing unsteady at the feel of his arms around her.

"It's going to have to wait," he growled. "If you wanted slow and  sweet, you shouldn't have looked at me like that over the dinner table."

A laugh burst free, but it turned into a moan as he settled her on the vanity countertop and stepped between her legs.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she teased, her mouth going  dry as he bunched up the fabric of her skirt and snapped the band on  her panties with a quick tug.

Fire roared over her skin.

"The look you gave me?" He passed her a condom a second before he  dropped his pants. "It said you wanted me right here." He slid a finger  inside her.

The condom fell from her fingers. She wound her arms around his neck,  needing more of him. All of him. Her heartbeat pounded so fiercely she  felt light-headed. She pressed her breasts to his chest, doing her best  to shrug out of the bodice. He must have retrieved the condom because  she could feel the graze of his knuckles against her while he rolled it  into place.

And then he was deep inside her.

His thrusts were hard, fast, and she loved every second of being with  him. She held on tight, meeting his movements with her own as she caught  glimpses of them moving together reflected in the mirrors all around.  His powerful shoulders all but hid her from view from the back. But from  the side, she saw her head thrown back, her spine arched to lift her  breasts high. He ravished them thoroughly, one hand palming the back of  her scalp while the other guided her hip to his.

Again and again.

"Let me watch you, Addy," he whispered in her ear, his breath harsh. "Come for me."

And she did.

Pleasure burst through her with fiery sparks, one after the other. He  followed her, muscles flexing everywhere as he joined her in that hurtle  over the edge.

His hand swept over her back, holding her close, his forehead falling  against hers. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, amazed that he  was still half-dressed.

When she caught her breath, she pulled back, looking up at him. She  wasn't sure what she expected-a smile, perhaps, for the crazy bathroom  sink encounter. But she hadn't expected the seriousness in his eyes. Or  the tenderness.

There was a connection there. A moment of recognition that sex hadn't  been just about fun and pleasure. Something bigger was happening. She  felt it, as much as she didn't want to. Did he?

Maybe he did. Because just then he blinked. But the moment had passed.  The look had vanished. His expression was now carefully shuttered.

She knew it would be wisest, safest, to pretend that moment had never  happened. To keep things light and happy and work on stockpiling those  memories before she left to start over-a new career, a new life.

But it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to simply call up a smile.

"Where did that come from?" She walked her hands down the front of his chest, admiring his strength.

His beautiful body.

"I missed you today," he said simply. "It didn't feel right, starting  our day off arguing." He shifted positions and helped her down from the  counter.

They cleaned up and she followed him into the bedroom. She sprawled on  the California king – size mattress beside him, pulling pins out of her  hair and setting them on the carved wood nightstand.

"Well, I sure don't feel like arguing after that amazing meal and  the...rest." She laid her head on his chest and listened to his  heartbeat.

In some ways, she would miss these moments even more than the torrid,  tear-your-clothes-off encounters. A swell of emotions filled her, and  she couldn't resist kissing the hard, muscular plane.

This, right now, was her best memory so far. Being cradled in his arms and breathing in the pine scent of his soap.

"All day it was on my mind, how much I wanted to get home and fix things with you." He stroked fingers through her hair.

That moment of connection in the bathroom? Could he feel it even now?

But she knew him well. Knew that he'd pushed away his other lovers once  they started to get too close. Expect more from him. As his friend, she  wouldn't follow that same path. There had to be some way to salvage at  least their friendship when this was all over.

"I have the perfect stress reliever that will make you feel better  about your day." She sat up on the bed, letting her hair fall over her  shoulder now that she'd taken it all down.                       
       
           



       

Light spilled in from the bathroom, casting them in shadows. They'd  eaten dinner late after the game and she knew he'd have to watch his  game film soon.

"My stress faded as soon as I got you alone." His wicked grin made her heart do somersaults.

"Take off your shirt and turn over," she commanded, already plunging her fingers under the hem of his T-shirt.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled, his eyes lighting with warmth again as he dragged the cotton up and over his head.

"You know how they say chocolate is good for the soul?" She retrieved the dessert sauce and dipped a finger in the warm liquid.

"I think it's books that are good for the soul." He propped his head on a pillow, his elbows out.

"Well, chocolate is good for mine." She traced the center of his spine  with her finger, painting a line of deliciousness and then following it  with her tongue. "But I think you're going to like this, too."

An hour later, she'd proved chocolate was good for everyone. Dempsey  had bathed her afterward, whispering sweet words in her ear while he  washed her hair.

She felt sated and boneless by the time he slipped from her bed to put  in the necessary hours at his job. She hated that he couldn't sleep with  her all night, but in some ways, she wondered if it was for the best.  She could tell herself that he had to work to do, and maybe that would  make the hole he'd left in her heart a little more bearable.

* * *

Dempsey was still thinking about Adelaide the next day when he arrived  at Gervais's house to meet with his brothers. Physically, he stood  outside the downstairs media room and made himself a drink at the small  liquor cabinet in the den. But mentally, his brain still played over and  over the events of the night before.

Mostly, he thought back to that electric shock he'd felt when he'd  looked into her eyes and the earth shifted. He couldn't write off that  moment when he'd never experienced if before with any other woman. He  had feelings for Adelaide. And that was going to complicate things in  more ways than he could imagine.

"Dude." Jean-Pierre strode into the den behind him. "You're getting old  when that passes for a drink. I come to town once in a blue moon. You  can do better than-" he held up the bottle to read it "-coconut water?  You'd better turn in your man card."

"I get the last laugh when I live longer." Dempsey set down his drink  to give his brother a light punch in the stomach, a favored family  greeting that their grandfather had started when they were kids.

Jean-Pierre returned with a one-two combination that-while still mostly  for show-made Dempsey grateful he maintained a rigorous ab workout. Of  all his brothers, he was closest to Jean-Pierre, making him the only one  in the family he still punched.