"What do you think?" he asked from behind her, his footsteps thudding on the hardwood floor.
"It's..." She searched for a word to describe the surroundings that had clearly been professionally decorated, just as his meals were professionally prepared. The place was pristine. High-end gorgeous. Yet missing all the touches that made a place a home. There was no clutter, no scars on the furniture from the wear and tear of making memories.
And there were no pictures, just knickknacks on the shelves and gallery artwork on the walls. But no photos. That tugged at her heart as sad, so very sad. "You have a lovely home."
His hands fell to rest on her shoulders, his chin against her hair. "It's a damn study in beige and I never realized that until I compared it to your place tonight. Kinda like how your brownies taste better than anything the best catering service could offer."
With every word, he made her heart ache more for him. She turned in his embrace and slid her arms around his neck. She saw so much in his eyes. So much caring and even a hope for things she wasn't sure she could give him.
But she couldn't think about that now. She refused to ruin this night by borrowing trouble from what might come. For now, she just wanted to enjoy this new connection and all the heady promise of his touch.
She stroked the back of his neck along his close-cropped hairline. "Do you really want to talk about paint swatches and recipes? Because I have something a lot more interesting in mind." She gripped his shoulders, her fingers flexing against hard male muscle. "The only question in my mind is, do you prefer the leather sofa or your bedroom?"
* * *
Megan's proposition fueled Whit's already smoldering need for her. Dinner had been a delicious torture as he waited to get her in his home, in his bed.
Although right now, the sofa sounded fine to him.
He skimmed the back of his fingers along her face. "You're sure this is what you want?"
"Are you kidding?" She tugged his hair lightly. "I thought I'd made my wishes abundantly obvious."
"I just want you to be clear." He cupped her face, resting his forehead on hers. "This won't be a one-night thing."
She hesitated, but only for an instant before whispering, "I hear you."
"And you agree." He needed to hear her say it. He'd waited too long to have this woman in his arms to wreck it all now.
"How about this." She angled closer into his embrace, her cinnamon scent filling his every breath. "It isn't a one-night stand, but we're still going to take it one night at a time."
He'd wanted more, but she hadn't said no outright. He was a smart man. He'd made progress, and he wasn't going to wreck his chance with this amazing woman.
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her soft body to his. "I can live with that for now."
"Good, very good." She swept her hands into his suit coat and shrugged his shoulders until the jacket fell to the floor. "Because you've been filling my dreams for a very long time."
"I would bet not as long as you've been in mine."
"Really?" Her green eyes went wide, her voice breathy. "Tell me more."
"Yes, ma'am. I'd heard about the hot new director at the shelter, then I saw you and you were-are-so much more than hot." He took a step toward the wide leather sofa, then another step. "But you shut me down cold because of the property dispute."
"I noticed you all right." She tugged at his tie, loosening it and pulling it free from his collar. "But yes, you made my life more than a little difficult by putting up roadblocks for the original shelter plans. And you're right that I don't approve of your company's history of buying up wetlands. But, to be honest, there's more. I was still wrapped up in getting my feet on the ground with Evie and being a mom."
"It didn't have to do with trusting men because of Evie's father?" he couldn't resist asking.
"This conversation is getting too serious." She backed toward the sofa, their feet synching up with each step. "Can we return to the part where you tell me I'm beautiful and I tell you I admire your abs?"
"You like my abs, do you?"
Her fingers stroked down again until she cupped his butt. "I like a lot about you, Whit Daltry."
"Nice to know." He leaned down to kiss her just as she arched up to meet him.
The taste of their after-dinner coffee mingled with the flavor of pure Megan. A taste he was coming to know well and crave more with each sampling.
Every time he held her, it was only more intense. He leaned forward at the same time she fell back. They landed on the leather sofa in a tangle of arms and legs and need. The sweet give of her curves under him sent desire throbbing through him, making him ache to be inside her. The silk of her dress as she writhed against him only tormented him with the notion of how much better her skin would feel. He wanted her now on the sofa and again upstairs. But he also wanted to make this moment perfect for her. No rushing.
Although that was getting tougher to manage with her tugging his shirt from his pants and working his belt buckle open. He toyed with the hem of her dress, his knuckles brushing the inside of her knee and drawing a husky moan from her lips.
He'd been fantasizing all evening long about untying her wraparound dress, and he intended to fulfill that fantasy. Soon. For now, he lost himself in the pleasure of kissing her, stroking along her creamy thigh. Taking his time. Taking them both higher and higher still until the need was a painful razor's edge.
Drawing in a ragged breath to bolster himself, he lifted off her. The image of her kissed plump lips, her flame-red hair splayed across the buff-colored sofa, was pinup magnificence.
She looked up at him with a question in her sparkling green eyes. She extended a hand. "Whit? Where are you going?"
"To carry you to my bedroom." He scooped her into his arms and against his chest.
Her gasp of surprise made him smile.
She got past her surprise quickly, though, and toyed with the top button of his shirt. "Luckily for both of us, that's exactly where I want to be."
He headed back into the foyer and past the stairs with long-legged strides that couldn't eat up the distance to the master suite fast enough.
Finally, finally, he crossed the threshold into his room. He'd never thought of it as more than a place to sleep. Houses-homes-weren't things to get attached to.
Just short of the four-poster bed, he set her on her feet. As she slid down his body, she thumbed free two more buttons on his starched cotton shirt.
She angled back as if to sit on the edge of the bed and he stopped her with a hand to the waist.
"Wait," he said, "we'll get there soon enough."
He dropped to his knees, his hands grazing over her breasts on his way to hug her hips. Her husky sigh urged him on as he eyed the tie of her dress, the loops right there for the taking, releasing. He took one end of the sash between his teeth. He looked up at her, holding her gaze with his. Her hands fell to his shoulders, but not to push him away. In fact, she swayed a bit, her fingers digging into his back, as if she was bracing herself to keep her balance. She dampened her lips with her tongue.
He tugged, slowly, imprinting the moment on his mind. Her dress parted and with a shrug of her shoulders she sent it slithering off into a pool at her feet. His breath lodged in his chest, then he exhaled in a long, slow sigh of appreciation.
The sweet swell of her breasts in red lace, the curve of her hips in crimson satin panties had him throbbing harder with the urge to be inside her. Now. And thanks to her bikini undies, he found the answer to his question about whether she was hiding more tattooed paw prints. She had a tiny trail along her hip bone. He took the edge of her panties in his teeth and let it lightly snap back into place.
"Megan, you are...beautiful beyond words. More than I even imagined, and what I imagined was already mighty damn awesome." His hands trembled as he reached to stroke her arms. Sure, he'd touched before but the feel of naked flesh was so much more intimate now that her curves were bared.
A flush swept over her lightly freckled skin. "And you, Whit, are seriously overdressed for the occasion."
She tugged him back up to stand again and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, one deliberate move at a time, kissing each inch of exposed skin. Her licks and nibbles had him bracing a hand against one of the bed posts to keep from stumbling to his knees again. He kicked off his shoes while she made fast work of unzipping his pants and shoving them down and off. Her eyes widened with appreciation and she stroked the length of him. He gave up and let gravity take them both onto the mattress.