he gradually drew away, his eyelids were heavy, his breathing, too.
“I don’t regret my slip last night to that reporter,” he said, “because it crystallised in my mind what I want. I want a home, Natalie. It’s time I settle down. We’re good together. It can work.”
She had to push him away. Tell him now how blind and mulish he was. Instead her fingers kneaded his chest.
“Don’t do this.” He was making her head spin, working his charm until she barely knew which way was up.
His shoulders rolled back. “Wear my ring.”
Since the day they’d met, her life had seemed surreal. Men of Alexander Ramirez’s calibre didn’t inhabit her world, not the world of backwoods Tallie Wilder, anyway. When her baby had gone to Heaven that night, she’d given up on herself. She hadn’t wanted happiness. She hadn’t deserved it.
And yet how could she deny what she felt for Alexander? He helped fill that bleak cold hole inside her. When she was with him it was as if the shroud she’d worn for six years was, in part, removed.
Her more rational side knew there could be no engagement. The baby would be his and when he laid eyes on his child, Alex’s protective nature would win out and he would want to marry Bridget. Be with his child. And if Bridget needed persuading, he’d do that, too. How could she—the ‘other woman’—condemn them? Natalie only wished it was her.
“Phone the owners.”
She blinked back from her thoughts. He was still on about the house.
“It’s getting late now in Chicago,” she told him.
“I doubt they’ll mind having their dinner disturbed.”
She gauged the tilt of his mouth.
Hell, he was really serious. And if he truly wanted this house, she shouldn’t talk him out of it. There would simply be a different mistress living here than the one he imagined now.
But, given her shaky state, how well would she conduct an overseas call that potentially meant many thousands of dollars in commission for Phil’s?
She studied his implacable expression again and sighed.
Guess she’d find out.
Twenty minutes later, the delighted vendors agreed to Alex’s negotiated eight point seven-five million offer and had said to fax through the documents to their lawyer.
Thrilled, and a little shocked, Natalie slipped her cell phone into her briefcase. “That has to be the easiest sale I’ve ever made.”
“And now I’d like to see the rest of my investment.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “A little back to front.”
“Whatever works.”
Given she’d made a healthy commission and the Quintons were ecstatic, she couldn’t argue. She’d simply need to put the other, unrealistic matter out of her mind. Engagements, the possibility of being a part-time mother…
It wasn’t happening.
Gathering herself, she waved toward the back of the house. “Let’s start with the kitchen.”
“I’m not a cook. I want to see upstairs.”
He purposely brushed past and started up the stairs.
She tightened her lips. Damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of arguing. Irrespective of any ulterior motive he might have, she was acting as the Quinton’s agent. She had to comply and show the new owner the second story. No matter what he threw at her, no matter what he said or did, she must remain professional.
When they reached the top of the stairs, she kicked off her commentary.
“There’s four bedrooms on this floor, each with their own sitting room. There are two more bedrooms downstairs as well as a separate quarters on the grounds for live-in staff.”
He was ducking his head around a bedroom doorway. “This looks nice.”
Natalie followed. The guest room. Her favourite room.
“It was newly decorated before the Quintons left for overseas.” She was drawn by the smell of freshly laid carpet and breathtaking scenery visible beyond the fall of exquisitely designed pelmets and drapes. “These views are as stunning as the main bedroom’s.” In fact, better, she thought. “You can see the bridge from here, the long blue stretch of harbour. And the breeze through these windows when they’re open—”
A click sounded at her back. Her stomach fluttered and she swung around.
The door was shut and Alex was strolling toward her, his step deliberate. The gait of a man in no doubt about what he wants or to what lengths he’ll go to attain it.
Natalie slid back one foot. “Alex, what are you doing?”
“The contract, once signed, is unconditional. This house, this bedroom, is as good as mine.”
Quivering at the hungry gleam in his eye, she backed up more. “This is inappropriate.”
“That’s an interesting word. I’d have said inevitable.”
Of course she’d known he’d planned this ambush of sorts. However, “If you think I’ll let you undress me, here, in the middle of the day—”
“And make love to you long and hard?” He undid a shirt button. “Yes, carino, I think you’ll let me.”
The back of her legs hit the bed. He joined her and, without invitation, pulled the single clip from her hair then unzipped the back of her dress. Her more rational side silently protested, but she didn’t stop him. Simply stated, at her most basic level, she wanted this and Alexander knew it as well as she did.
“You honestly don’t have any shame, do you.”
He peeled the dress from her shoulders. “Not where you’re concerned.”
He kissed her deeply and when her mind was wheeling, he skimmed his mouth down her neck, her cleavage, until his teeth grazed the gauzy fabric of her lace crop top bra. She bit back a cry as her nipples hardened against his mouth and her dress fell in a puddle at her feet.
His fingers wound into the scarlet lace and, in one fluid movement, he stripped the top up over her head. With obvious appreciation, he took time to study her breasts, weighing their fall as the pads of his thumbs brushed and teased the tips. When his head lowered again and his tongue twirled over one burning nipple, then the next, she sighed and her neck rocked back.
She was on fire.
Eyes drifting shut, she held his head in place. “Is the door locked?”
“No.”
He sucked the sensitive bead fully into his mouth and a searing fountain fizzed through her veins. Still, her gaze edged toward the door.
“This
