Millionaires' Destinies(108)

Filled with regrets, she found a way to extricate herself from Mack’s embrace. To her astonishment he slept on. It was the dead-to-the-world sleep of the truly exhausted. She smothered another grin at the realization that she’d done that to him. Imagine that! She had left a physically fit, professional athlete—a playboy—too wiped out to move. She was still gloating when she climbed into the shower.

The icy water meant to revive her had barely hit her overheated skin when the shower curtain was swept aside and Mack climbed in with her.

Beth stared at him in shock, not sure she was ready for quite this much intimacy, even after the night they’d just shared. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“The bed got lonely without you. Besides, I can’t let you go sneaking off without so much as a morning kiss.”

She gave his body a thorough once-over. “Something tells me you’re after more than a kiss.”

He grinned and backed her against the tile. “I’m open to negotiations.”

“You’re a Carlton. Negotiating is second nature to you. I’m sure you always get the terms you want.” She hooked a leg around his. “Let’s just cut to the chase.”

He laughed. “Works for me.”

Fifteen minutes later Beth’s knees were wobbly and her body still sizzled with so much heat she was amazed the bathroom wasn’t filled with steam despite the icy temperature of the water flowing over them. She gazed into Mack’s eyes. “What have you done to me?” she asked. “I’m used to starting my day with oatmeal.”

“This is healthier,” Mack said.

“I’m not so sure about that. I feel a little faint.”

He looked pleased with himself at her admission. “You get dressed. I’ll fix breakfast. Eggs, I think. You obviously need the protein.”

“I don’t have time,” she said as she scrambled from the shower, wrapped herself in a towel and ran into the bedroom. One frantic glance at the clock proved how true that was. She was running well behind schedule.

“Make time. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Mack said, wandering in after her. “You’d think a fine doctor would know that.”

“I do know it. I also know I have a jam-packed day ahead of me and I’m already late.”

“Then ten more minutes won’t make any difference, will it?” he said.

Beth tried not to stare as he pulled on his briefs over his excellent backside, then turned his pants right side out and climbed into those. He didn’t bother to button them at the waist. Since they were the only clothes that had actually made it upstairs, Beth was treated to one more excellent view of his muscles as he left her room without wasting another word arguing with her. She sighed heavily after his exit.

As soon as he was gone, she dived into her closet, dragged out the first skirt and blouse she came to, then dressed in the kind of rush with which she was all too familiar.

A quick flick of her brush through hair that had a surprising hint of curl to it—no time to tame it into submission—a touch of lipstick and she was done. By the time she walked into the kitchen, she’d figuratively drawn her protective professional cloak around her. Other than those wayward curls, there was no hint of the wanton woman she’d been during the night.

True to his word, Mack had juice on the table and a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs in his hand. He’d put on his shirt, but thankfully he hadn’t buttoned it. She liked the sexily rumpled look. In fact, she was fairly certain she could become addicted to it. She’d have to remind herself later how dangerous and ill advised that would be.

“Sit,” he ordered, his expression uncompromising.

The order was a bit less attractive, but the protectiveness behind it had its charm. “Five minutes,” she muttered, because it was easier than arguing with him. Besides, she was starved and her eggs never looked that good.

The toaster popped up, and she stared at it in surprise. “You found bread?”

“In the freezer,” he said, then added wryly, “you should look in there sometime.” He put the buttered toast in front of her, then took his own place opposite her with only a cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not eating?” she asked.

“Not enough eggs. I’ll grab something at my place when I go home to change.”

“I could share,” she said, shoving the plate in his direction.

“Nope. I fixed those for you with my own secret ingredient.”

She frowned at the eggs. “You didn’t find any poison around, did you?”

His lips twitched at the outrageous suggestion. “Why would I want to kill you?”