The Paternity Proposition(14)

"You haven't eaten since brunch," he countered. "Aren't you hungry?"

She wasn't about to touch that one. "The DI guest quarters come well stocked. I saw some microwave popcorn in the cupboard. It's my second favorite food group."

"After?"

"First place is a tie between pizza and Tex-Mex."

"So you're a carb addict."

"By choice as much as by necessity," she admitted without the least remorse. "Not many of the places I flew in and out of these past few years dished up Dover sole or carrots au gratin."

"That covers food preferences. What about music?"

"My top three are all female jazz greats. Allison, Etta and Ella. You?"

"Garth, Toby and Bartok."

"Bartok?" She screwed up her nose. "The classical composer who did all that atonal stuff?"

"He's an acquired taste. Favorite authors?"

Funny, she thought as she fired back with Patterson, Roberts and Grisham. Most couples shared these tidbits of knowledge over several days or weeks of casual give-and-take. Usually before they tore off each other's clothes and acquired an even more intimate knowledge.

Her glance dropped like an anchor. The birthmark she now remembered with blazing clarity had almost been hidden by Alex's thatch of dark gold pubic hair. Julie had discovered it by accident when she'd slithered down his sweaty body and …

"Your turn."

She brought her head up with a snap. "Huh?"

"Movies. Top three."

"Aviator, Top Gun, Independence Day."

"Why am I not surprised, Flygirl?"

"Okay, smartass. Name yours."

The back-and-forth on top threes carried them off the interstate, through the city streets, and up to the penthouse. Alex leaned a forearm against the jamb and waited while she keyed the guest suite door.

"Sure you don't want to go out to eat?"

Hell no, she wasn't sure. Not when he leaned so close she could pick up the faint tang of shirt starch and healthy male sweat.

"I'm sure."

He searched her face. Whatever he saw there had him backing off. Dust and grime and the cottonwood fluff in her hair, most likely.

"I have a conference call with our Czech office that will eat up most of tomorrow morning. How about I get Blake to go over some of the legalities of our merger with you then? I'll meet you afterward for lunch."

"That'll work."

"Okay."

He tipped her face to his and covered her mouth. Easily. Naturally. No pressure at all, other than the fireball that exploded in Julie's belly. Then, damn him, he gave her the early night she'd asked for.

"Later, Bartlett."





She delivered a series of mental kicks in the butt as she headed for the bathroom, shedding her clothes as she went. A long, cool, pulsing shower doused most of the fire his careless kiss had generated. An ice cold beer soaked the residue. The ashes were just about stone-cold dead when the front door buzzer sounded. Frowning, Julie secured the towel turbaned around her hair and the belt to the inch-thick terry cloth robe DI provided its guests before padding barefoot to the door.

Alex stood in the hall, his damp hair glistening dark gold, a clean shirt hanging open above jeans slung low on his hip, and a pizza box balanced high on one palm.

"It's later," he announced. "And there's no charge for delivery."

She warred with her better self for as long as it took him to stroll in and deposit the pizza on the coffee table. When he turned and let loose with one of his crooked grins, she gave up the struggle.                       
       
           



       

Slamming the door, she stalked across the room, smacked her palms against his just-shaved cheeks, dragged his head down, and locked her mouth on his.





Seven

Julie's first thought was that he tasted every bit as delicious as he had last night. Her second, that the man exhibited a take-charge attitude she might object to in other circumstances. A mere heartbeat or two after she'd covered his mouth with hers, he morphed from kissee to kisser.

She couldn't summon a single objection at the moment, however. Not one. On the contrary, the swift torque of his muscles as he crushed her against his chest sent an atavistic thrill through every inch of her. He was the elemental male. Strong, confident, eager to leap into the fray, more than ready to take what she offered.

His arm tightened around her waist. His stance widened. He used his free hand to tug the towel away from her hair and raked his fingers through the still-wet mass, anchoring her head for the controlled mayhem he wreaked on her lips. With her height and stubbornly independent nature, Julie couldn't remember ever feeling dominated. By anyone! Nor would she ever have imagined she would enjoy the sensation. But something deep and primal in her reveled in Alex's fast, hot surge of testosterone. Like every female of every species, she'd instinctively sought a mate who could match her in every way that counted.

Scratch that. Mate wasn't the right noun. Not as humans defined it, anyway. That term implied some kind of commitment beyond the purely sexual. And …

Oh, hell! Like she gave a hoot about semantics when Alex's tongue had worked past her teeth and his body had gone iron hard? Her senses spiraling almost out of control, Julie locked her arms around his neck. She'd barely gotten a grip before he bent and swooped her up in his arms.

"I was going to wait until after the pizza to make my move," he confessed, his voice low and rough.

"We'll make that dessert," she promised.

"But first," Alex murmured as he deposited her feet beside the bed and reached for the sash of DI's luxuriant terry cloth robe, "we'll treat ourselves to a six-course banquet."

"Six courses?" She had to grin. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, Bubba?"

"Oh, yeah."

He yanked on the sash, let the robe fall open. If the hunger rampaging through Julie hadn't already puckered her nipples, the air-conditioned chill that hit them at that point would have done the trick. Then, of course, there were Alex's busy, busy hands.

He used them to tug the robe off her shoulders and down to her elbows. She was naked underneath, a fact he seemed to deeply appreciate. A growl sounded low in his throat. His eyes went laser blue.

"Now you," she said on a husky note.

She dragged off his unbuttoned shirt, tossed it aside, and splayed her hands on his lean, tanned torso. Golden chest hair tickled her palms. Warm skin and hard muscle played havoc with her senses. She let her hands glide down. Slowly, so slowly. Found the snap to his jeans. Then the zipper. Felt the size and urgency of his erection against her palm.

The feel of him generated a brief moment of sanity. She remembered the last time she'd touched him like this. Remembered how big he'd been, how rock hard and throbbing, before her eager fingers had helped his roll down the condom … one of several they'd gone through that night.

As if reading her mind, he dug into the front pocket of his jeans and produced a handful of foil packets. "I told you I was using the pizza to soften you up before I made my move. I came prepared."

"So I see."

Another all too vivid memory surfaced. Those little suckers weren't foolproof, as she'd reminded herself during those tense days after she'd discovered she was late. She'd kicked herself over and over again for trusting her future to a little scrap of latex and went back on birth control pills immediately. She was on them now, although condoms were still a good idea for that extra layer of protection from life's other unpleasantnesses.

"I also see you weren't kidding about that six-course banquet," she drawled, eyeing the half-dozen or so packets he tossed on the table beside the bed.

"A man can only hope."

Grinning, he heeled off his shoes and shucked his jeans. His shorts followed. Julie had only a moment to admire the perfect symmetry of tanned skin and taut muscle before he took her horizontal on the king-size bed. In a flash, the hunger Julie had banked during those few moments of banter came roaring back to life. Mouth and hands greedy, she gave herself up to the feast that was Alex.

Her soaring senses recorded the faint, leathery-lime scent of the aftershave he'd slapped on after his shower. Her fingers danced over slick muscle and bumpy spine. One of her knees slipped between his, and the soft prickle of his hair made the skin of her sensitive inner thighs tingle.

Every touch, every taste made her crave more. As the heat rose, she realized the hunger he stirred in her now was different from the lust he'd generated the first time they'd met. They'd barely gotten past first names then. She'd been attracted by his gorgeously packaged exterior and flat-out seduced by his smile. She'd had no grasp of the man behind the smile. Hadn't looked beyond his broad shoulders and handsome face.                       
       
           



       

Now …

Now he'd shown her glimpses of a complex, compelling personality. Smart, funny, authoritative. Maybe a little too authoritative at times. As when he'd all but blackmailed her into spending this week in the city. She couldn't work up much of a mad about it at the moment, though. Not with Alex nipping at the cords in her neck. And contorting to reach her breasts. And tormenting one aching nipple with his tongue and teeth.