Was that really the first time he’d touched her? Ever?
She searched her brain, but she couldn’t remember another occasion. And apparently, the experience would have been seared into her spinal column.
“You can use this one as an office,” he was saying as they neared the front foyer. He opened a door off the hall, revealing a small library.
He hit the light switch, and a desk lamp came on, bathing the room in a soft glow.
The library’s walls were lined with ornate wooden shelves and what looked like an eclectic selection of books. There was a rosewood desk, a patterned area rug and two cream-colored wingback chairs with ottomans that complemented a compact leather chair positioned behind the desk. The room was surprisingly feminine, with touches of pattern china and figurines placed beside the books, and the occasional watercolor seascape recessed into the shelves.
“My mother used to like this room,” said Lucas.
“Are you sure you want me to use it?” She’d been complaining about her deadline to make a point, and to have an excuse to go to bed. She hadn’t intended for Lucas to try to solve her problem.
“Yes. Of course.” He set her laptop on the desk and turned to face her where she stood a few steps into the room. “You need somewhere quiet to concentrate.”
“Once Amelia is asleep—”
He leaned back against the desk, bracing his hands on either side. “You said you had a deadline.” “I do.”
“Then you’ll let the nanny monitor Amelia, and you will—”
“Are you trying to keep me away from Amelia?” His brows went up in obvious shock. “No,” he answered simply.
She was inclined to believe him, and she felt her guard go down a notch.
“Then, what are you doing?” she asked. Why did he care about her deadline?
“I’m offering you a place to work.”
She studied his expression, the tight mouth, cool slate eyes, dark imposing brow. “You’re being nice to me,” she accused.
“So?”
“So, it’s out of character. So, I’m trying to figure out what you’re up to.”
“I’m not a monster, Devin.”
The sound of her name made her chest go tight. “But you are rather cold-blooded.”
Silence followed her words.
Then he straightened away from the desk. He took a step toward her, then another, and another. A glow of awareness crept into his eyes. “Devin,” he whispered. “At the moment, I am not feeling even remotely cold-blooded.”
She tipped her chin to look at him. For the life of her, she couldn’t come up with a retort.
He smelled fresh as a sea breeze. His skin was shaved close, his hair neatly trimmed and his gray eyes flecked with silver. His softened lips captured her undivided attention.
“What are you doing?” she managed to rasp. She ordered her legs to move, to leave, to flee, but they didn’t obey.
“I wish I knew.”
His index finger touched the bottom of her chin. His breath puffed, soft and sweet, as his head tilted sideways. “We can’t,” she murmured.
There was absolutely no doubting his intentions. But she found herself subconsciously stretching up. Her skin flushed hot. Her eyes fluttered closed. Then his lips brushed hers.
His arm snaked around the small of her back, tugging her to him, pulling her flat against his chest.
He swooped down and kissed her deeply. Her body instantly responded. Her arms wound around his neck. Her head tipped sideways. Her lips parted, tongue tangling.
An eternity later, as the blood pounded through her brain and arousal peaked across every inch of her body, Lucas suddenly broke the kiss. His breathing was loud, and she could swear she heard his heartbeat matching her own.
“Turns out,” he gasped, clasping her upper arms firmly and putting some space between them, “we can.”
Embarrassment washed over her.
She bit down on the heat of her lower lip and finger-combed her short hair back into submission, mortified that she let him kiss her, that she’d kissed him back, enthusiastically.
It would have been bad enough if she hadn’t liked it. But oh, dear, she had really, really liked it. She struggled to bring her hormones back into submission.
Like she had while they were jogging, she was completely off her pace, out of control. Her world was spinning wildly around her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“That was bad,” she told him, shaking her head. “That was stupid. We are not going to let this happen again.”
They absolutely could not go around falling into each other’s arms, kissing each other, getting lost in passion when there were serious issues between them.
It was important they came to an agreement on that. He didn’t respond. “Lucas,” she prompted.
His eyes focused on her. “What? You want me to lie?”
Devin had escaped the Demarco mansion first thing the next morning, taking Amelia in her car and heading to Lake Westmire, well away from any possibility of a chance encounter with Lucas. She decided she would check on her plants, pack a few more of Amelia’s clothes, listen to any messages on her answering machine and double-check the fridge for anything that might spoil during the few weeks she’d be away.
Lexi stopped by the house during Amelia’s afternoon nap. She convinced Devin to join her for a catamaran ride across the bay once the baby woke up. Devin was happy with the excuse to extend her visit. She decided that after the sail, she’d give Amelia her dinner, freshen her up in a bath and then let her fall asleep on the way back to the Demarco mansion.
Out on the lake, in her little swimsuit and a cotton cover-up, Amelia sat happily between Devin’s legs, bouncing on the catamaran’s trampoline deck. When the cool water splashed up through the springy, open-knit fabric, she grabbed at it with her hands, giggling when it disappeared from her little fingers.
“Define kiss,” said Lexi, adjusting the main sail with practiced maneuvers as she changed their direction and they skimmed out across the rippling water.
“A regular kiss,” said Devin.
“On the lips.”
“Yes.” Devin wasn’t sure anything else would have been noteworthy. Though she supposed Lucas kissing her on the cheek or forehead would have been pretty weird, too.
“Full
