She lay still in the strong protective circle of his arms, not wanting to move. In the past, staying had been the problem, not leaving. Now that situation was reversed.
But what difference would it make to stay until dawn? What did one whole night really matter?
She’d wake early and do what she always did.
She’d get up and walk away.
* * *
SHE WOKE TO bright sunshine and delicious smells from the kitchen. She lay there for a moment, warm and lethargic, hovering between wake and sleep. Sometime during the night it had stopped snowing, and through the window she could see a perfect blue sky, the sun reflecting off snow that had the smooth perfection of a wedding cake.
Still groggy, Kayla groped for her phone and did what she always did first thing in the morning. She checked the time.
Normally it said 5:00 a.m.
Today it said 9:00 a.m.
Nine?
It had to be a mistake. She hadn’t slept until nine since—since—she couldn’t remember a time when she’d slept until nine. She never slept until nine.
She sprang out of bed, then realized she was naked and grabbed the nearest item of clothing from the pile on the floor, which turned out to be Jackson’s T-shirt. It smelled of him and she briefly pressed her face in it before dragging it on and dragging her fingers through her hair.
Flustered, she looked at the bed and then at the open door leading to the living area. So much for her plan to sneak out early.
She ventured into the kitchen and saw him, standing with his back to her, frying bacon. He’d pulled on jeans, but his feet were bare. His chest was bare. Her gaze lingered on the masculine contours of his body. She stared at the swell of his biceps, at the hard strength of his shoulders, at the power in those forearms. He was the hottest, sexiest guy she’d ever met, and he shouldn’t be allowed to remove his shirt without issuing a warning.
She thought the moan was in her head, but something must have come out of her mouth because he turned and of course the front view was even better than the back.
“Good morning.” His voice was husky, and he turned the heat off under the pan and strolled over to her. His jaw was dark, his hair slightly rumpled, and she knew she was the one responsible for that because she’d had her fingers locked in it for almost half the night.
She had no idea what she was supposed to say but he didn’t give her a chance to speak. Instead he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head. His kiss was long, slow and deep, and she felt fire lick through her veins. Her eyes drifted shut. He could take her from zero to the edge of orgasm at supersonic speed with nothing more than a single kiss. By the time he finally lifted his head she was ready to go straight back to bed. It shouldn’t have been possible to feel this desperate, should it? Not after the way they’d spent the night.
Unsettled, she pulled away from him, but that didn’t help because now she had a full-on view of his chest. “You should have woken me.”
His smile was slow, his eyes an intense blue in the light of the morning. “Why?”
“Because I always wake at five. I don’t sleep late.”
“But you slept late today.” He brushed her lips with his thumb and turned back to deal with the breakfast. “That’s good.”
“It’s not good, Jackson!” She ran her tongue over her lips where he’d kissed her. Everything about him unsettled her, not least the fact he didn’t seem unsettled at all. He was so relaxed. So sure of himself. “I have to finish off my proposal, make some calls, wash my hair— Why are you smiling?”
He flipped the bacon. “Because we both know the reason you’re panicking about waking late has nothing to do with work.”
“I thought you were eager to get this project started, too.”
“I am. But I have room in my life for things other than work, and I know you’ll get the job done. And your hair looks great, by the way. Can you pass me the eggs from the fridge?”
How could her hair look great?
She hadn’t dared look in the mirror but she had to look a tousled mess.
Dazed, Kayla dragged open the door of the fridge and found the eggs. “I wanted to write up the proposal, send it across to the office and then be ready to make some calls this morning.”
“You can still do all that.” He handed her a bowl. “Break four eggs into that.”
She smashed an egg and it landed in the bowl with a broken yolk and pieces of shell.
Jackson sighed and fished out the shell with a spoon. “What did that egg ever do to you? Calm down.”
“I’m calm.”
“Sweetheart, you’re shaking.” He covered her hand with his and rapped the egg on the side of the bowl so that it broke neatly. “There. Easy.” His hand was warm and strong and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.