Prince Of The City. Nikki Benjamin
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Stepping off together, they started slowly down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling their footsteps, the pale glow of the art deco wall sconces lighting their way.
“So did I,” Eloise replied, risking a glance at him as they came to a halt just outside her apartment door.
She knew immediately that she had made a big mistake by meeting his gaze. Knew, too, what was coming next and that she had a duty to discourage it. But the look of longing in Bill’s bright blue eyes, edged with just the right hint of masculine mischief, made it impossible for her to do anything quite so sensible.
She was capable only of standing silently, caught and held by his mesmerizing gaze, as she awaited the inevitable and not unwelcome moment they had been moving toward all evening.
“I’m so glad we finally got together again,” he continued, his voice pitched a notch lower.
Obviously feeling much too sure of himself, he offered her another winning smile.
“Yes,” she agreed, brought back to earth again by his show of confidence. “I’m glad, too.” Then, gathering her wits about her as she should have done much sooner, she ever so politely extended her hand. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Bill.”
“Thank you, Eloise,” he replied, his smile widening. “For making it much more than a lovely evening.”
Pulling her close before she could even think of resisting, he bent his head and gently, chastely claimed her lips with his.
Eloise had forgotten how gratifying even the simplest kiss could be, especially when shared with someone as desirable as Bill Harper had always been to her.
It wasn’t as if thoughts of him had ever interfered with her marital happiness, and it certainly wasn’t as if she had ever obsessed about him sexually. But Bill had meant so much to her once upon a time.
So surely it wasn’t odd that her attraction to him had lingered over time, tucked away in the far reaches of her fondest-days-past memories. Nor was it any surprise at all that she found herself responding to his kiss with an ardor that she would have never displayed with any other man, even though some reticence on her part probably would have been wise.
But she didn’t want to be wise tonight, Eloise decided as Bill deepened their kiss ever so slightly.
Tracing the line of her lips with a teasing tongue, he sought entry, finding it as she uttered a soft sigh, relaxed against him and teased back with her own tongue.
His arms tightened around her possessively as they tasted each other intimately, and she sighed again, raising up on her toes, seeking desperately to get as close to him as she could. She wanted to feel even more completely the warmth radiating so seductively from his body—wanted, secretly, to dispense with all the clothing keeping her from putting her hands and her mouth against his hot, bare skin.
Suddenly, somewhere much too close to them, a door opened with a heavy rush. The sound registered in Eloise’s mind, along with the faintest hint of boyish snickering, setting off a vague sense of alarm. But she was too enthralled by Bill’s sensual kiss to react as promptly or appropriately as she should have. And then it was too late. She was thoroughly and completely caught in the act by her sons.
“Hey, Mom,” Henry, the youngest, sang out. “You’re late.”
“Yeah, Mom, you are way late,” John, her middle son, chided. “Way, way, way late. We expected you to be home hours ago.”
“Do you know how worried we’ve been?” Carl, the eldest, demanded, his tone resembling one she had often used herself with them, only without the obvious touch of humor blended in for good measure. “I’m here to tell you that you are so grounded.”
“Yeah, so grounded, Mom,” Henry and John echoed, barely able to contain their laughter.
Totally flustered, Eloise took a step back as Bill broke off their kiss with a masculine chuckle.
“Looks like we have an audience,” he muttered, his blue eyes gleaming with what appeared to be pride.
Though he shifted to one side so that he faced her sons—all three crowded into the open doorway of the apartment—he still kept a possessive arm around her shoulders.
“Sorry, guys, it’s my fault your mom’s late getting home. We were having so much fun together we lost all track of time.”
“A likely story,” Carl retorted grimly, but his eyes twinkled, too, as did his brothers’.
“You three were supposed to be in bed no later than ten o’clock,” Eloise reminded them primly, going on the offensive.
They looked so cute in the red plaid flannel pants and red long-sleeved T-shirts they had recently adopted in lieu of pajamas that she wanted to hug them. But they were the ones who were up much too late tonight—a school night—against her expressed wishes.
“And a good thing we weren’t,” John replied severely. “Otherwise, who knows what you might have gotten yourself into out here in the hallway?”
“Yeah, Mom, who knows?” Henry added.
“She’s safe with me,” Bill assured them. “Although I must admit I couldn’t resist snatching one little kiss before I said good-night.” He traded conspiratorial grins with her sons then transferred his charming gaze back to Eloise. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ms. Vale.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Mayor,” she murmured in reply, not quite able to look him in the eye.
Bending, Bill gave her a last quick kiss on the cheek, and added very quietly for her ears only, “I’ll call you,” as he gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Then, to her sons, he saluted smartly.
“Gentlemen, don’t be too hard on her.”
“We won’t,” Carl answered for all of them.
“And don’t you be too hard on them,” he instructed Eloise, his grin widening for an instant before he turned and headed down the hallway to the elevator.
“Yeah, Mom, don’t be too hard on us,” Henry pleaded in a teasing tone as she made herding gestures with her hands to get them out of the hallway and back inside the apartment where they belonged.
“We were only looking out for you, Mom,” John reminded her.
“’Cause we love you,” Carl added wisely.
“You are never going to be able to get out of bed in the morning, much less be able to stay awake all day,” she chastised them. “I’m not paying good money to a private school for you to fall asleep in class.”
“Hey, it’s already morning. Maybe we should just stay up,” Henry suggested.
“Absolutely not. You are all going to bed without any further delay, and I don’t want to hear a single complaint from any of you when your alarms go off at six o’clock.”
“Like you’re even going to be up then yourself,” Carl quipped as he headed