Connor gave her a thoughtful nod and set down her bejeweled foot. “I admit, I’m making every effort to sweep you off your feet. I want you to fall for me.”
He picked up her other foot, giving it the same attention as the first. “But if it puts your mind to rest, I’m pretty sure Prince Charming wasn’t using the old shoe excuse just to get his hands on his wife’s leg.”
Buckles complete, he let his hands skim up over her calves, stroking a light path behind her knees as he went on. “What’s more, based on the target audience for those stories, I’d really hope he wasn’t entertaining the kind of thoughts running through my mind as I watched you wrestling your short skirt. Because there was nothing PG about where my head was at.”
“Really?”
A nod. “Strictly X stuff. I promise.”
“Connor.” His name was a plea on her lips, and the moment it sounded, the humor in his eyes faded and the lines of his face hardened.
“We’re good together, Megan. It’s not about glass slippers or fairy tales or love at any sight. It’s not about private schools or mutual goals or any of the other things we’ve talked about today. It’s about you and me fitting together. It’s about this feeling of rightness you told me about last night. The one I’ve had since I met you. And I keep seeing signs of it today. Tell me. Tell me you feel it too.”
“I feel it.” The connection was there. Undeniable between them.
But whether feeling right together for one day was the same as actually being right together through the rest of their lives...
“I just don’t know—” The words died in her throat at the sight of the burning heat staring down at her. The desire blazing in his eyes. Desire for her.
The same desire firing through her body, spilling hot through her center and filling her mind with a smoky haze. Suddenly she wanted those big hands everywhere on her. She didn’t want to worry about good judgment or long-term consequences. She simply wanted this man, whose promises sounded too good to be true, to deliver on the one in his eyes.
“Connor,” she whispered, drawing her leg slowly in, and the man with it. “You make me want...”
God, she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it. All her rational thought was tangled up in the rising awareness between them, the slow glide of his touch over her skin, the need simmering between them.
And then he was off the floor, one hand moving from her leg to brace on the mattress beside her hip. The other climbing to the outside of her shoulder, so all she could do was lie back, staring into his eyes as his large body moved over her own. His knee replaced his left hand at her hip, and she was surrounded.
He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body, the wash of his breath against her jaw, the tickle of his open shirt grazing her arms. Decadent. Intimate. Too seductive to resist. Her fingers closed around the draping fabric, pulling him toward her until only the barest space remained.
She pulled again. A subtle nudge. Then a stronger tug, but all it earned her was another one of those devastating half smiles and the slow shake of Connor’s head as he reached into his pocket and withdrew her ring.
Braced on one arm and his knees above her, Connor slid his free hand up her left arm, rolling the glinting diamond band along the path of her skin until he held it poised above the tip of her ring finger, so close she could feel an almost magnetic pull from the wanting.
It would be so easy to give in. Give him what he wanted. What, on some level, she wanted too.
Let him slide that platinum band over her finger, and say yes to what would inevitably feel good in the moment, but had the potential to devastate if she wasn’t careful.
Forcing the air in her lungs to move again, she managed a single word. “Wait.”
Connor’s smile quirked suggestively. “Nervous? I promise I’ll be gentle. I’ve done this before.”