The Tycoon's Temporary Baby(39)

“Why won’t you be in tomorrow?” she asked, without really listening for the answer, because her mind was back in the bedroom, the night before, hearing him confess how much he wanted her. And she was remembering how he’d looked in the light of that ridiculous pink hippo, the bedsheet pulled only to his waist, the muscles of his chest so clearly defined despite the dim lighting.

“Your family. They’ll still be here then.”

“So? What does that have to do with your work?”

“While they’re here, our first priority is convincing them we’re a happy couple. We can’t do that if we’re not together.”

“But work—” she protested.

“Can wait for a few days.”

Work? Wait? Who was this guy?

Whoever he was, she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She was going to have a hard enough time sleeping in the same bed with him for the next week. She’d been counting on their time at the office to return to normalcy. Now more than ever, she needed him to be the hard, analytical boss she was used to.

Her mind was still reeling from that little bomb when Jonathon said, “Since we’re both here, why don’t you go grab your computer and we’ll try to get some work done?”

“The thing is, Jonathon, I—”

Then she broke off abruptly. Because what could she really say? He was waiting, expectantly. Looking so handsome it made her heart ache. “The thing is, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Slip so easily between the work me and the me that has to pretend to be your wife. I don’t know why it seems so easy for you, but—”

“You think this is easy for me?”

“Well. Yes. You barely seem aware that at this time yesterday you were kissing me. Or that last night we slept in the same bed.” She paused, waiting for him to say something. Though his gaze darkened, he didn’t comment and suddenly she felt ridiculous for saying these things aloud. “Which is fine, I mean, this is my problem. I’ll figure it out. But I think I just need to get out of here for a couple of hours. Get my head on straight.”

Maybe that trip to Cabo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

She turned and had made it most of the way to the door when he grabbed her arm and turned her around. She barely caught her balance when he pulled her roughly against him and kissed her.





Twelve




His mouth was hot and firm on hers. It only took a second for her to lose herself in the sensation of being kissed by him. No, not just kissed, devoured. She felt completely swept away by it. By him. By the sensation of his hand gently cupping her jaw. By his arm at her back, pressing her body to his. The feel of his lips as they moved over hers in a hundred delicate kisses.

“This is not easy,” he pulled back just long enough to say. And then he kissed her again. “It’s never been easy.” Another kiss. “Not once in five years.” And another kiss. “Not once has it been easy.” And another. “To stay away from you.”

And then his tongue was in her mouth, seducing her with long, slow strokes, stirring heat in her body. Making her all but tremble with need. She felt as though her skin was overheated. Tingly and antsy. As if she was on fire. Her nipples prickled, demanding to be touched and she arched against him, pressing her breasts to his chest, desperate for some kind of contact. And still it wasn’t enough.

Wrapping her arms around him, she twined her fingers into his hair and pulled him back just enough to ask, “Then why did you stay away?”

He gazed down at her, his eyes foggy with lust. “I don’t know.”

And for the life of her, she didn’t know either. Honest to God, she couldn’t think of one damn reason why they shouldn’t be together. It had nothing to do with Peyton or the marriage. Nothing to do with her family or the rebellious tendencies she’d thought were long dead. This was about them. It had always been about them. And now that she was kissing him—now that his hands were all over her, making her tremble—she couldn’t think of any reason why they should stay apart. When it was so obvious that they were meant to be together.

His lips moved from her mouth down to her neck, leaving a delicate trail of red-hot nibbles. She arched into his lips, all but praying he’d move lower and take her breast into his mouth.

“Oh, Jonathon,” she murmured. “Please…”

She wasn’t sure what exactly she was pleading for. Not when there were so many things she wanted him to do to her. So many places on her body she wanted him to touch and explore. All she knew was she wanted more. All of him.