Countdown To Baby - Page 11

Holding her gaze with his own, he slipped his hands behind her. A brush of cool air followed her zipper down her back, and then her dress pooled around her bare feet. She couldn’t really remember kicking off her sandals, but then the details of this night were beginning to blur into a haze of sensation. She had given up on rational thought a long time ago—maybe even the first time Geoff had smiled at her.

Unfortunately, her intuition hadn’t warned her to don sexy lingerie beneath the red dress. She was still wearing th

e serviceable beige bra and matching panties she had worn to work. Before she had time to regret the choice, the problem had become moot; Cecilia barely had time to reflect on how suspiciously good Geoff was at removing women’s undergarments before she found herself in his arms again. With nothing between them but desire.

It felt even better than she could have imagined.

As he lowered her to the bed, she came very close to telling him that she never did things like this. That it was so unlike her to bring a man she had just met into her bed. She bit the words back because they sounded so overused. So difficult to believe—even though in this case they were so absolutely true.

She could only hope he somehow understood without being told that this was a special evening. A brief visit to fantasyland.

Reality intruded momentarily when he retrieved a plastic package from his pants pocket—did he always carry condoms or had he hoped to hook up with someone tonight?—but she pushed the question to the back of her mind to ponder later.

He kissed her eyelids. “Have I mentioned that I have a thing for big brown eyes?”

“I—” She was forced to clear her throat before she could speak. Apparently the fact that they were practically glued together in her bed wasn’t affecting his voice the way it was hers, though it was certainly affecting other parts of him dramatically enough. “I think you have.”

His lips trailed across her cheek. “Did I tell you how much I like the dimples at the corners of your mouth?” he asked, then pressed a kiss just there.

She felt those dimples deepen. “I don’t think you have mentioned that.”

The tip of his tongue swept across her lower lip, causing a shiver of reaction. “Consider it said.”

She could only nod this time.

Scooting downward a bit on the bed, he nibbled a line from her chin down her throat to the top of her shoulder. “Should I keep listing the parts of you that I like best? Because I warn you, it could take the rest of the night.”

Arching into his explorations, she closed her eyes and threaded her fingers into his hair. “I just happen to be available all night,” she managed to say.

He lifted his head from his downward path just long enough to flash her a wickedly beautiful smile. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that.”

The outrageous idea came to her while she was making coffee the next morning. It hit her with enough force to make her stumble, almost dumping coffee grounds on the spotless linoleum floor.

She placed a hand on a countertop to steady her while she took a moment to wonder if she had just slipped over the edge of sanity. Surely she must be crazy to even consider what she suddenly found herself contemplating.

Dimly aware of the sound of the shower running in the back of the house, she knew she had only a few minutes to gather her composure—and, perhaps, her courage—before facing Geoff.

It was still early on this Saturday morning—not quite 8 a.m. She’d woken first, a bit startled with the realization that she wasn’t alone in her bed. Resisting the opportunity to watch Geoff sleep—and he had looked as delicious with tousled hair and a shadow of beard as she had thought he would—she had slipped out of the bed and into the shower.

By the time Geoff had roused, looking a bit embarrassed that jet lag and a strenuous night had caused him to sleep so heavily, Cecilia had already donned a T-shirt and shorts, pulled her hair into a loose braid and applied judicious touches of makeup. Urging him to take his time in the shower, she had promised to have breakfast ready when he came out.

Hastily dumping coffee into the filter, she turned on the coffeemaker and set out cereal, fruit, milk and yogurt on the kitchen table. Remembering Geoff’s choice of steak and potato for dinner last night, she wouldn’t be surprised if he preferred a bacon-and-eggs breakfast, but this was what she had on hand.

She should probably wait until after they had eaten before broaching the proposition that had hit her with such staggering force. He would need the energy, she thought wryly, when he bolted in panic from the crazy woman he had awakened with this morning. Could she really expect him to react any other way?

But did she have any logical choice but to ask him? How else would she know if it was even within the realm of possibility?

Geoff came into the kitchen then, and her heart tripped—whether from nerves or a surge of raw attraction, she couldn’t have said. Probably both. He looked younger, somehow, with his hair still damp and his white shirt open at the collar and rolled up on his arms. He hadn’t shaved, and the scruffiness only added to that sexy-young-rebel look that was so deceptive for the button-down businessman she suspected him to be.

She swallowed and rubbed her palms on her khaki shorts, suddenly feeling every day of the five years she had on him. Though she didn’t usually have issues with vanity—no more than any other woman, anyway—she found herself hoping those extra years weren’t immediately visible.

Geoff smiled, only adding to his extraordinary appeal. He brushed a light kiss across her mouth. “Looks good.”

“I hope you like fruit and cereal.”

He chuckled as he glanced at the table. “Oh, yeah. The food looks good, too.”

A silly blush warmed her cheeks. Heaven only knew when she had last blushed that way, she thought with a shake of her head. She had to get herself under control. If a simple flirtatious compliment turned her into a giggling schoolgirl, how could she begin to talk to him about certain much more serious—yet undeniably awkward—matters?

Tags: Gina Wilkins Billionaire Romance
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