The Tycoon's Temporary Baby(60)

“Did my uncle try to blackmail you?”

Every muscle in Jonathon’s body tensed. At least, every muscle she could see. Which was a lot of them.

Despite that, he kept his expression carefully schooled. If he hadn’t been nearly naked, she might not have realized how strong his reaction was.

“Who have you been talking to?” he asked.

“Just answer my question.”

He opened his mouth, clearly debating what to say.

Then there was a knock on the door.

“Give me a minute,” he snapped, and she wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to the person knocking.

“I have to go pee-pee and someone’s in the other bathroom,” came a small voice from the other side of the door.

Jonathon glared at her as if this was her fault.

She shrugged and mouthed the name “Sara.”

Jonathon nodded her to the door in a get-out gesture.

Wendy shook her head.

“I need to go really, really bad!”

Little wonder since just a few minutes ago she’d seen the girl jumping on the bed.

“I don’t think I can hold it!”

They could hear the thump-thump-thump of the girl bouncing up and down.

Wendy toed off her shoes and socks and kicked them near the wastepaper basket. Jonathon arched an eyebrow in question, but she ignored him as she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the steaming shower. The last thing she saw before she pulled the curtain closed was the expression of pure exasperation on his face. As if this was all terribly beneath him.

“Come on in,” she heard him say. “But be fast.”

“Ugh. Uncle Jonny, you’re naked!” she heard the girl say.

“I was about to get in the shower,” he said, his tone far dryer than Wendy now was. Even pressing herself toward the back wall, the spray kicked up onto the legs of her jeans.

“Aren’t you going to go?” she heard Jonathon ask.

“Not while you’re watching!” the girl whined.

“I’ll turn around.” Wendy heard the impatience in Jonathon’s voice.

“Just get in the shower. And don’t listen!” There was a moment of silence, during which Wendy imagined Jonathon mustering his patience. “Go!”

She saw Jonathon’s fingers wrap around the edge of the shower curtain. She stepped under the showerhead to make room for him. An instant later, he pulled back the curtain and stepped in, towel still slung low across his hips.

The water slashed down, wetting her hair and clothes. She was drenched within moments. Jonathon raked his gaze over her, his expression dark. She felt his stare like a touch, searingly hot and disconcerting. A shiver ran down her spine and she tried to tell herself that her damp clothes had made her cold, but she knew that was a lie. She wasn’t cold at all. How could she be when Jonathon was so close? And nearly naked? He looked her up and down, making her painfully aware of her clothes clinging to her skin and of her nipples hardened against the silk of her bra. Desire mingled with her anger in a potent mix that made her head spin.

From the other side of the curtain, she could hear Sara moving in the bathroom. Then the girl started singing “The Ants Go Marching.” Jonathon arched an eyebrow at Wendy and suddenly the mood shifted, and she barely suppressed a giggle. The toilet flushed. The water ran colder for a few seconds, making Wendy shiver for real. Then the sink ran. A moment later the bathroom door opened and closed.

Suddenly, they were alone. In the shower. She was drenched and he was nearly naked.

This seemed like a very bad idea.

“Now,” he said, his tone tight and controlled, “will you please get out of the bathroom? Let me finish my shower. In peace.”

“No.” The word left her mouth before she could even fully process his request. But the instant she said it, she knew it was the right response. “I’m not leaving. Not until you answer me. Did my uncle blackmail you into getting an annulment?”

“No. Now get out.”

“But—”

“Get out. Now. Or I can’t be responsible for my actions.”

“I’m not leaving until you explain—”

He didn’t even give her a chance to finish her sentence, but pulled her to him and crushed her mouth with a kiss.

Her hands shoved uselessly at his shoulders even as her hips bumped eagerly against his. Her mouth opened under his assault, her tongue stroking his, savoring the taste of his hunger. Of his impatience. Every instinct she had screamed at her, but she could hardly distinguish her warring desires. She wanted him. She didn’t want to want him. Her body desired him, but every shred of common sense she had warned her to stay away. He could bring her body enormous pleasure, but he’d surely crush her heart.