“The water’s too cold this time of year,” she teased.
“It might be refreshing.”
“Maybe. But I’d probably have a difficult time swimming.” She held up her sprained wrist.
“You’re right.” He turned her around in his arms until she was looking up into his familiar blue eyes. “How about a shower?”
“I have a better idea.” She ran her good hand down his arm, entwining her fingers with his. “How about the bed?”
Holding his hand, she led him inside and down the hall to their bedroom. A bottle of champagne stood in an ice bucket beside the bed. “I guess you didn’t have your heart set on a swim.”
He gave her hand a gentle tug, drawing her into his arms. “I knew we’d end up here eventually.”
“Hoping I’d drop my towel and climb onto your bed?”
“Yes.” He claimed her mouth, kissing her deeply. “But I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself this time.”
“You’d better not,” she said, glancing down at the splint on her arm. “With the way my arm feels, I don’t think I can undress myself.”
Eric stepped back, looking her over as if assessing her limitations. “That could be a problem.”
“Eric, I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll just need a little help with my shirt and the button on my jeans.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. The things I want to do to you . . .”
Her breath caught and she reached for the button on her jeans with her nondominant left hand. She struggled to release the top of her jeans, refusing to give up. Finally, she succeeded, pushing her pants down her legs.
“I’d hate to hurt you,” he said. But he began unbuttoning his white dress shirt.
“You won’t.” Georgia managed to remove her underwear and toss them on the pile of clothes with her jeans. “I’m strong, remember?”
“I did promise I’d always believe in your inner strength, didn’t I?” Eric pulled his undershirt over his head.
Georgia nodded, staring at his muscular chest as she struggled to pull her injured arm into her T-shirt. By the time she dropped her shirt on the floor, he’d discarded his pants and boxers. She swallowed, looking him over from head to toe.
It was as if they were back at the beginning. She ached to touch and explore the man she had loved for so long. More than anything, she wanted to make love to him. Just as she had that first night when she’d boldly walked into his room.
Only now she’d fallen in love with him. This wasn’t about a moment in time, but the rest of her life. And her future looked as if he was one second away from tossing her on the bed and proving that he was anything but straightlaced.
Georgia reached her good hand behind her back and struggled with her bra. But she couldn’t do it. “You don’t really need to see my breasts, do you?”
“Yes, Georgia, I do.” He closed the space between them until the fabric of her bra brushed against his chest. With his two good hands, he released the hooks. He drew the shoulder straps down her arms, carefully navigating around her wrist. Then he stepped away, taking her bra with him.
“You’re beautiful, Georgia.” He tossed her bra aside. With one hand, he touched her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. What she saw there—it wasn’t playful and lighthearted. It was as if he was offering her a glance inside, at his heart and soul.
“Your outer beauty drew me in years ago,” he said. “But it’s your courage, your bravery, your resolve that won my heart. You asked me the other day if I was in love with you. And I was too much of a coward to acknowledge my feelings. I hid behind fear.”
She lifted her good hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “You did what you thought was best for a little boy.”
“No, I was afraid. And once I realized it . . .” He shook his head. “I didn’t think I deserved you. But I want to try because you’re what is best. For Nate and for me.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She moved closer, pressing her naked body against his.
His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his mouth brushing her ear. “Yes, Georgia. I’m in love with you. And I’m going to make sure you never doubt my love again.”
She kissed his neck, his chest, anything she could reach, needing to feel his skin against her lips, while their limbs pressed tight. Eric. He was her rock, her stability, and her future. He was her friend. And now her lover. Always.
“Make love to me,” she whispered, running her mouth up to his ear. “Please.”