those few problems, I’m fine. And if you think about it logically, it’s just a simple agreement between us.”
“Simple?” He didn’t bother to hide his astonishment. “You’re talking about having a baby, not signing a contract for a health club membership.”
“I know. But we don’t have to make it that complicated. We try to have a baby, and if it doesn’t work, then we can say we gave it our best shot.”
His grin reappeared, the one that suspended Mallory somewhere between arctic chills and equator heat. “I guarantee it works.”
“I imagine it does.” With great clarity, she imagined it. “Does this mean you’ll do it?”
He remained silent for a few moments, yet Mallory saw something akin to understanding in his expression. “This is that important to you?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And if I agree to this, you’re sure you won’t object to me being involved with our child, after we both move on?”
“As I said before, I’d want it that way. Raising a child is a lifelong commitment.”
Whit swiped both hands over his face and stared straight ahead. “If I live that long.”
“What do you mean?”
“Logan isn’t going to like it.”
Mallory had predicted the friends-to-the-end loyalty between Whit and her brother might be a negative factor. “You let me worry about Logan when the time comes.” If the time came.
“I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”
Mallory scooted over to Whit’s side, using the last of her trump cards in an effort to persuade him. “You know, the whole process could be fun. Unless you find the prospect of having sex with me totally appalling.”
He visually followed the movement of her fingertips as she ran them up and down his very toned bicep. “Are you trying to seduce me into making a decision, O’Brien?”
“What do you think?”
He leveled his dark eyes on her. “I think you should consider you’re challenging a man who hasn’t been with a woman in a while.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
Before Mallory could prepare, he had her back against the sofa and his body pinning her in place. “Are you sure you still want to do this, Mallory?”
How stupid to think Whit wouldn’t answer the challenge immediately. She swallowed hard around the nervous knot in her throat. “That depends on what you’re about to do.”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
Mallory suspected he was trying to scare her out of the decision. She wasn’t going to let him. “No kisses until you give me your answer.”
He brushed her hair away from her face and framed her jaw with one palm. “What if you hate the way I kiss? Would you still want me in your bed?”
A sharp, shaky breath slipped out between her parted lips. “Your kissing ability wouldn’t matter. Whether you’re up for the challenge of consummation would.”
He gave her a lopsided grin and glanced down before meeting her gaze again. “What do you think?”
She thought she might dissolve into the expensive tan suede sofa when she, in turn, looked down and noticed some activity stirring below his belt. “I think you’re a normal man. Say the word sex, and here comes the salute.”
When she pulled her gaze back to his face, he lowered his mouth to less than an inch from hers. “Maybe I should shower before I give you my answer. I’m feeling pretty dirty right now.”
Mallory was having some dirty thoughts of her own. “I know. It reminds me of the times you used to come in with Logan following football practice. A regular pheromone fest. Those football pants did enhance your assets.”
He slid his thumb along her jaw. “If I can find a pair, does that mean I have a better chance of scoring?”
“Have you not been listening to me? I’m a sure thing. Ready and willing.”
He collapsed against the couch and moved as far from her as the cushions would allow. Seconds ticked down, turning into minutes while Whit remained quiet, obviously deep in thought. Mallory held her tongue for the time being, giving him the opportunity to consider his answer carefully. And the waiting was pure agony.
He sighed, interrupting the silence. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
He turned his head toward her. “Yeah, I will. I’m probably crazy for agreeing, but if this is what you want, then I’ll try to give it to you.”
On a rush of adrenaline and sheer joy, Mallory climbed into his lap, straddled his thighs and held his face in her palms for a succession of wet kisses on his cheeks. She pulled back, intending to tell him he wouldn’t regret it, but the look he sent her halted her speech. Granted, she’d been out of the dating loop for a long time, but she could still recognize I-want-you in a man’s eyes. Except Whit had never looked at her that way before. Ever.
Without saying a word, he circled her nape with one hand and pulled her mouth to his. If this kiss served as his resume, as far as Mallory was concerned, he was hired. A tempered touch of his tongue to hers, a soft sweep, a heady thrust and she was reacting in ways she hadn’t in years, if ever. She might actually enjoy the consummation. But that couldn’t happen now. Not yet. Oh, boy.
He deepened the kiss, not giving her a chance to protest. How could she when he was occupying her mouth with such tender urging? When he was draining her thoughts dry as a winter skin with his expertise?
Even though Mallory truly didn’t want it to end, Whit obviously did when he broke the kiss. “Was that satisfactory, O’Brien?”
Satisfactory? Had it been any better, she might have been naked about now, disregarding her ultimate goal. “As I’ve said, this isn’t about your skills, Manning. We’ll go into this arrangement knowing it’s for the sole intent of procreation. You don’t have to feel obligated to prove anything to me in terms of your proficiency as a lover. And you don’t have to—”
Kiss me again, dammit. But he did, slowly, seductively, persuasively. This time, Mallory pulled away, with great effort. “I can already tell you’re going to be trouble.”
His smile made him part devil, and all devastating male. “And I feel like I’ve been remanded to stud service.”
“In a way, you have.” She climbed out of his lap and stood on wobbly legs. “Now go take a shower, my little stud muffin.”
When she turned away, he slapped her bottom. “Sure thing, my little broodmare.”
She faced him again, arms crossed at her middle to conceal her onset of trembles. “I don’t think I like being called a broodmare.”
“If
