Sheltered by the Millionaire(16)

He ducked his head. "Megan, I'm searching for a way to get through to  you, because make no mistake, I want to spend more time with you. A lot  more. I always have." His words and eyes were filled with sincerity. "I  was able to keep my distance when I thought the feeling wasn't mutual.  But now that I know you're attracted to me too? I'm all in."

Her breath hitched in her chest. "What does that mean?" Nerves made her edgy.                       
       
           



       

"A regular date, dinner with me."

Dinner scared her a lot more than the notion of no-strings sex. "I can't leave Evie alone and she can't stay out that late."

"What time does she go to sleep?"

She chewed her bottom lip, already seeing where he was going with this. "At eight."

"Then how about getting a sitter and we go out after she falls asleep."

"And this gossipy small town we live in?"

"There are plenty of places other than Royal to find dinner. We can get to know each other better talking during the drive."

She hesitated, wanting to agree but unable to push the words past her lips.

A smile stretched across his handsome face, giving him a movie-poster  twinkle in his eyes. "I'll take that as a yes. See you tomorrow at  eight-fifteen." Stepping back, he picked up the brownies again. "Let's  take these inside so we can get started making plans for the evening."

* * *

The next day, after finishing up at the Cattleman's Club, Whit rushed  home to shower and make plans for his evening with Megan. God, he needed  her and not just for the distraction of forgetting about Craig's  upcoming memorial service. But for the chance to be with her, talk to  her, find out why she had this tenacious hold over his thoughts.

She'd clearly had reservations, but she'd still agreed. She'd been  emphatic though that he couldn't arrive until after eight once she had  Evie in bed.

As if he didn't understand how important it was to be careful of the little girl's feelings.

But one victory at a time.

He finished his shower and pulled out a suit, more ramped for this date than he could remember being...ever.

An hour later, he shifted his sports car into park outside Megan's cute  three-bedroom bungalow south of downtown. He'd left the truck at home  tonight and opted for his silver Porsche. He wanted to make the evening  special for her. He had things back on track to win Megan over. Tonight  was a big step in the right direction.

He'd considered bringing her flowers, but didn't want to be obvious. So  he'd opted to buy her a catnip plant. He'd actually bought two, one for  her and one for his greenhouse even though he didn't have a cat. He'd  also picked up a citronella plant that repelled mosquitoes to give him  an excuse to stop by the shelter.

Walking up the flagstone path, he took in the multicolored lights on  the bushes and a little wooden sign that read Santa, please stop here.  He climbed the steps and knocked twice just under the holly wreath on  the door.

Dogs barked inside and he could hear Megan shushing them just before  she opened the door. The sight of her damn near took his breath away.  She wore a Christmas-red dress, the wraparound kind with a tie resting  on her hip. Those strings made his fingers itch to untie the bow, to  sweep aside the silky fabric and reveal the hot curves underneath. His  gaze raked down her body, all the way to her bare feet, that tiny paw  tattoo on her ankle tempting him all the more.

And he would have told her just how incredible she looked with her hair  flowing loose to her shoulders except two dogs ran circles around his  legs. He planted one hand on the door frame and gripped the terra-cotta  pot with the catnip plant in the other. Some kind of Scottie mix in an  elf sweater yapped at him while a border collie bolted out around the  porch, then back inside.

"Sorry for the mayhem." Megan rolled her eyes. "Piper and Cosmo just need a good run in the back yard before I go."

"No problem." He passed her the plant. "Catnip."

"Thank you, how thoughtful. Truffles, Pixie and Scooter will have a  blast with it." Her smile was wide and genuine, her lips slicked with  gloss. "Come on inside. Evie is asleep and Abigail should be here soon  to watch her. Beth helps out, but since she's with your friend Drew...I  just want to keep any talk to a minimum."

He swept off his Stetson as she stepped aside to let him in. He focused  on learning more about her from her house to distract himself from the  obvious urge to keep staring at her.

Her home was exactly how he would have imagined: warm and full of  colors. A bright red sectional sofa held scattered throw pillows and  three cats. Her end tables were actually wood-encased dog crates. A toy  box overflowed in a corner.                       
       
           



       

And there were photos everywhere. Of her with Evie. Of them with the  dogs. The cats too. Years of her life not just on the mantel but also in  collages on the walls.

She held up the sprig of catnip. "I'm just going to water this."

He followed her into the kitchen and sure enough, the refrigerator  front was decorated in finger-painted turkeys and a cotton ball snowman.  He noticed her recycling station tucked just inside the laundry room,  with its neat stacks of bundled newspapers and rinsed milk jugs in  labeled bins. "I should take lessons from you on recycling."

"You should," she said pertly.

Chuckling softly, he looked past all those precise labels, and saw a large crate with a familiar calico cat inside.

"Is that the same cat I brought to the shelter?" He pointed. "Tallulah? I thought she was staying in your office."

"Tallulah came down with an upper respiratory infection, so I brought  her home to keep a closer watch over her." She turned off the water and  set the plant on the counter. "I've been crating her to keep her  separate from the other animals."

He knelt beside the extra-large enclosure, wriggling his fingers  through the wire. The kitty woke, arching her back into a long stretch.  She was a damn cute little scrap. "Is she going to make it?"

"She's doing much better now." Megan leaned a hip against the  doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched him with  curious eyes. "She's on medication. I've been keeping her at home with  me at night to make sure she's eating and hydrated."

As if on cue, Tallulah went to the double bowl and lapped up water.

Whit stood again, inhaling Megan's cinnamon scent. "Do you often take animals home from work?"

"We all do. There are never enough foster homes, especially right now."

"And I added to that burden by bringing in Tallulah. I'm sorry about that."

"You're a confusing man, Whit Daltry." She studied him intently.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm not even close to understanding you  yet either. But everything I've seen so far, I like." Unable to resist  for another second, he tipped his head and brushed his mouth against  hers.

The soft give of her lips and that sweet moan of hers had him reaching  for her. She didn't lean in, but she wasn't pulling away either. So he  moved slowly, carefully. And savored the feel of her.

He slid his hands behind her, along her waist, the silkiness of her  dress teasing his hand with thoughts of how silky her bare skin felt. He  tasted her, drawing her closer and just enjoying the moment. Things  couldn't go any further, not with the babysitter due to knock on the  door at any second.

So he enjoyed just kissing Megan, learning more about the way the two  of them fit together. Her arms slid around his neck and she pressed  those sweet curves against him as her fingers toyed with his hairline.  Such a small gesture, but each brush of her fingertips sent his pulse  throbbing harder through his veins.

He backed her against the door and she stroked her foot up the back of  his calf. A growl rumbled in the back of his throat, echoing the roar in  his body to have this woman, to take her even though his every instinct  shouted he would lose her if he moved too fast.

The doorbell rang, jarring him back to his senses.

For now.

* * *

A date.

She was on a no-kidding, grown-up date.

Megan couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty. Her child was asleep  and well cared for and she was enjoying an adult evening out with a  sexy, fascinating man.

The valet drove away to park the Porsche as she and Whit climbed the  steps of the restored mansion-turned-restaurant. She had heard about the  French cuisine at Pierre's, but never had the spare cash or free time  to try it for herself. Her heels clicked on her way up the stairs and  she couldn't miss the way Whit's eyes lingered on her legs.

A rush of pleasure tingled through her.

Sure, she loved being a mom and enjoyed her job, but it was nice to  slip into a dress that wasn't covered with ketchup or cat hair. She  tucked her hand into the crook of Whit's arm as they stepped over the  threshold into the warm, candlelit restaurant. Her fingers moved against  the fine weave of his suit jacket.