The Playboy's Baby(47)

He touched her chin, his fingers stroking her skin. “Because it’s been in your family for three generations. It shouldn’t belong to anyone else.”

His words to her before they’d left his house combined with the tenderness in his eyes now seeped inside and wrapped around her heart. Emotion clogged her throat. She had no idea what to say to him. A simple gesture, something only a rich man could get away with, but the sweetness of it overwhelmed her. Her eyes filled and overflowed before she could stop them.

Dillon reached out and drew her to him. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. For an extended moment in time, she allowed herself the luxury of clinging to his big, warm body and the safe feeling his embrace gave her.

“The paperwork hasn’t gone through yet.” His voice rumbled beneath her ear. “So I have to give the keys back tonight, but in about a month or so, this place is yours, free and clear.”

She lifted her head to look up into the dark eyes that had become so familiar. “I will pay you back.”

He cupped her face in warm, soft hands and swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “No, you won’t. It’s a gift. Because I can.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Being a spoiled rich boy isn’t without its benefits. Now this house can stay in your family, where it belongs.”

His statement floored her. She’d underestimated him. He just told her, beyond any doubt, that he knew what this house meant to her, that he understood what she had to give up when she sold it, and he gave it back to her. If this didn’t prove she was wrong about him all these years, she didn’t know what did.

“You’re a surprise at every turn, you know that?” She smiled.

He leaned down and pressed his nose to hers. “I won’t say I told you so.” Then he released her and took her hand. He tugged on her arm and turned, walking out of the room. “Come on. Let’s go see what else they did to the house. I think I remember his wife mentioning they rebuilt the gazebo in the backyard.”





Chapter Ten





Emma’s heart hung heavy. Annie lay on a blanket on the floor in the center of the living room. She and Dillon stood together by the front door. He had his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his gaze soft. She didn’t want to say good-bye. To either of them.

They’d spent a good hour at her mother’s house, exploring the rooms, sharing memories. Mostly, she talked and he listened, holding her hand while they walked through the rooms and eventually out into the gazebo in the backyard. The rest of the afternoon was spent simply—talking, laughing, and playing with Annie.

Like a family.

The more the hours drifted on, the more the closeness between them grew. The recognition of it echoed back at her from the depths of his eyes every time he looked at her. It was odd to feel the connection with him, warm yet familiar. That sense of having come home grabbed her again, lodging deep in the pit of her stomach.

Staring at him now, she was at a loss for words. How did she describe her gratitude for what he gave her today? He gave her back her heritage, a part of her mother. He was also right. The entire morning had divested them of whatever unease had lingered from yesterday. She’d never felt so close to anyone the way she did to him right then.

“Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before, you know.” The gesture had melted her right out of her shoes and permanently wrapped itself around her heart.

He shook his head, a deep crease forming between his brows. “Then you’ve been dating the wrong guys.”

With a boldness brought out by an overwhelming need to show her appreciation, she closed the distance between them. With one hand braced against his chest, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

She only meant it to be one kiss, a quiet show of gratitude and trust, but one touch of his mouth on hers and need exploded within her. Her body trembled with the memory of him wrapped around her, naked and hot. When she pulled back, their gazes locked. His was searching and intense yet so tender she wanted to drown in his eyes. She leaned in again.

This time he leaned with her. Cupping her face in his large, warm hands, he slanted his mouth over hers. He kissed her slow and deep, their tongues twining, flicking together, mimicking the tender act they shared only yesterday until a quiet moan slipped from her lips and she melted into him, lost all track of herself, of her surroundings.

By the time they finally parted, both were breathless. His hands left her face and slid to her hips, tugging her against him. The hard length of his arousal pressed into her belly and his body trembled beneath her palms. For a moment, he closed his eyes, his breathing ragged.