He peeled back the cup of her bra and stroked his thumb across her nipple. “You wound me, Winnie.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, her features etched tightly as desire gripped them both. It wouldn’t take long to pleasure her, but perhaps at this juncture in time, it might be best to leave her as hungry and hurting as he was.
She whispered his name. “Larkin.”
The yearning in those two syllables made the hair on his arms stand up. He wanted desperately to give in…to give up. But as surely as the sun crossed the sky, someone would be back to summon them to lunch.
“We have to go,” he muttered.
“I know.” The words were barely audible.
“Tonight we’ll try my bed.”
He waited for her to demur, to protest. But instead, she simply smiled at him wistfully and shook her head…which could mean anything or nothing.
He didn’t have time to figure it out. This time it was Annalise who pounded on the door. “Come on, you two. Uncle Victor says we can’t eat until everyone is at the table, and I’m ready to start gnawing on my napkin.”
Larkin flung open the door, giving his sister a death stare. “Your manners leave something to be desired.”
She pinched his cheek. “If you didn’t want us mucking around in your business, you never should have come home.”
He saw Winnie smile, but she didn’t try to mediate the argument that was as familiar as it was sweet.
Fortunately for Larkin and Winnie, the lunch crowd was reduced. Gareth’s family and Kieran’s were eating at home, though they would be back in the evening.
Over hearty bowls of chili and homemade corn bread, Ariel, Jacob’s wife, studied Winnie to the point of rudeness. Finally, her husband intervened. “Does she have food on her chin, or are you hoping to sketch a mug shot?”
Everyone laughed except Ariel. “I don’t mean to offend,” she said with a winsome smile. “But, Winnie, you have extraordinary bone structure. The camera would love you.”
Winnie eyed her warily, perhaps a bit in awe. Even Larkin, who had known his cousin’s wife for some time now, had to admit that Ariel Dane was exquisite.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Winnie said. “It’s not false modesty to say that I’m definitely ordinary.”
Ariel’s smile encompassed everyone, but still her gaze lingered on Winnie. “It’s your eyes, and the shape of your chin. Your perfect skin. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a young Meryl Streep?”
Larkin stepped in. “I thought it the first time I met her.”
Winnie seemed more horrified than complimented. “You’re being kind.”
Ariel shook her head vehemently. “You don’t see it, perhaps, when you look in the mirror. But your face is so expressive when you speak. And your voice—wow, all Southern and husky…”
Larkin decided he had to rescue Winnie before she died of embarrassment. “Back off, Ariel,” he laughed. “Winnie is far too shy for Hollywood.”
“But—”