Tatiana knew how tired Erika was by that time, having recently survived her own narcoleptic second trimester. And she hadn't even been pregnant with twins. But looking at the bride-to-be, you'd never guess she had fallen asleep on Gervais's shoulder on the short bus trip from the dock to the ranch house.
"Come on." Jean-Pierre spoke into her ear, tugging her away from the conversation. "I grabbed our key from the desk. Kimberly knows about the baby. She'll understand."
He tossed a brief "good night and thank you" over his shoulder as he pulled Tatiana toward the back of the main building. Her kitten heels clicked on the Saltillo tiles, her hand warm in his as he drew her up a short staircase decorated with Spanish tile mosaic. They walked out into a breezeway open to the elements, cloister-style. He paused outside a dark wooden door decorated with a blue-and-yellow tile motif that matched the card on the old-fashioned key he carried.
Hearing it click into place in the lock made her temperature spike, the sound an audible reminder of what was to come with the utter privacy behind that door.
"Should I check on César?" she asked, peering around the corridor as if she could guess what room he might be in.
"Why don't you let me. I'll give you some privacy to get settled while I make sure Lucinda has the baby's bags and we have ours." He pushed open the door and held it for her. "I'll get a baby monitor, too, so we can hear him tonight if he needs to be fed."
"Okay." She nodded, a nervous laugh escaping. "Is it strange to plan for baby care the second time we ever share a...um, romantic evening?"
"No." He drew her into the room with him, letting the door fall shut behind them. A small wrought-iron chandelier in the foyer area flickered to life on a dim setting as they entered. He stood, centered under that chandelier, and reeled her toward him. Closer. Closer. Until she was toe-to-toe with him. Breasts-to-chest. "It seems like everything I've wanted since I first saw you holding our son that night in New York is about to come true." His hands clamped her forearms, holding her still. His voice dipped lower as he tipped her chin up with one finger. "It feels perfect."
Nervousness faded. Her pulse hammered faster as sensations skidded along her spine, tension coiling deep within her.
When his mouth finally brushed hers, she thought she'd faint from the sheer pleasure of it. The warm slide of his lips was a sensual treat for a woman who'd had little enough romantic attention in the last year. The bay-rum-and-sandalwood scent of his aftershave teased her nose, calling her to taste his skin, but Jean-Pierre had taken full command of the kiss by then.
Her head spun as he raised his hand to either side of her face, bracketing her jaw and tilting her chin to just the right angle. Her knees wobbled, her body seized with the need to melt into him. A moan simmered up her throat but didn't escape, his kiss consuming it. His fingers sifted into her hair, sending tantalizing warmth along the base of her scalp even as shivers tingled along her nerve endings.
She would have fallen into him completely if he hadn't pulled away just then. As he glanced down at her, his breath came fast, his chest moving up and down as though he'd been sprinting.
"Hold that thought." He kissed her hard on the lips, like a warrior leaving to do battle instead of a new father retrieving a nursery monitor. But feeling the way she did, she could completely appreciate where he was coming from because pulling away from that kiss took a whole lot of grit and resolve, almost more than she could manage right now. "I'll be right back."
As he strode out of their suite, she hoped he would hurry.
If this trip was the only time they had together, she wanted it to be perfect.
Ten
He only left the room for fifteen minutes to tuck in César.
Jean-Pierre kissed his sleeping son's head, ensured the baby and his nanny had everything they needed and then double-checked the status of their bags. Because he didn't want someone knocking on his door in half an hour to deliver them, he waited just long enough to secure the luggage personally and have it brought up with him. Impatient as hell, he tipped the young man generously to make sure they weren't disturbed until he called downstairs, but he put in an advance order with the kitchen to have a few of Tatiana's favorites ready upon request later.
After a deep bracing breath, he opened the door to the bedroom he would be sharing with Tatiana.
The air left his lungs twice as fast.
Considering how briefly he'd left the room, he was surprised at the transformation when he returned. Not that he'd devoted even two seconds checking out the décor when they'd arrived. He'd been too busy trying not to devour Tatiana whole.
But when he'd been in the suite before, there hadn't been any seductive Spanish guitar music gently playing from hidden speakers. And he wouldn't have missed candlelight flickering through the open archway that led to the bedroom. The warm golden glow was the only thing that illuminated the space, though a smaller candle burned on top of the wet bar close to the entrance. The windows had been thrown open-though the heavy wooden blinds remaining closed-so that a fresh gulf breeze drifted through the slats, gently stirring the sheer white curtains draping the corners of a wrought-iron four-poster bed.
He could see the bed now as he was drawn deeper into the suite to see what other surprises the night-and Tatiana-had in store.
"I hope you don't mind the candles." Tatiana emerged from behind a decorative screen made of colorful serapes that had been stretched to fit tall, rectangular frames.
Her feet were bare, her beautiful dark hair loose around her shoulders as she brushed it, one slow seductive sweep at a time. She wore a white linen nightgown that bared her shoulders and just covered her knees. He'd seen her wear something just like it once before, when he'd thrown stones at her bedroom window as a teenager to get her attention and she'd opened the sash to lean out.
He couldn't decide if seeing her this way was like seeing his teenage fantasy come to life.
Or like taking a bride to his bed.
Both thoughts rattled him, but for far different reasons. "Tatiana?"
"You have to ask?" She laughed softly, setting aside the silver-backed hairbrush, although she didn't step any closer. "I can switch on a real light if you need one. It's just that candlelight is a postpartum woman's best friend. More flattering, you know?" she rambled, obviously nervous. "My body has been through a lot since the last time you saw it."
Ruthlessly, he tamped down his own lust to dial into what she was saying.
"You look so damn beautiful I can't even find words," he said and meant it. Every. Damn. Word.
He took a step toward her, the movement so carefully measured he probably looked like a robot.
But it was that, or risk a diving tackle that would get them both horizontal as fast as possible and...yeah. Not happening. He needed to remember she'd had a baby recently. And yes, he wanted to savor every moment of being with her again.
Another step brought him close enough to touch her. He skimmed a light caress up her arms, circling around the tops of her shoulders and slipping his thumbs just barely under the wide straps of the nightgown until a shiver ran through her.
"Thank you for understanding." She lifted her palms to his chest and smoothed them down the front of his shirt. She hesitated at the bottom, but soon she walked two fingers beneath the fabric to hook into the waistband of his trousers. "It's hard to think about being with you when you work so hard to hone and refine your body every day for football and I just-"
"You used yours for the most important thing in the world. No comparison." He wasn't even listening to that line of discussion. His touch fell to her belly through the soft linen. "If we'd been together while César grew inside you, I would have told you every day how amazing you were to do that. And I am certain you were every bit as beautiful."
Her lips curved in a smile, bringing a sparkle to her green eyes.
"But since we weren't together during those months-" she arched up on her toes to whisper in his ear "-I've had a long time to miss your touch."
A groan vibrated through him, the hunger tougher to restrain when she said things like that. Especially now that her palm raked over his abs and around to the small of his back, and delectable breasts pressed against his chest.