She could still live a meaningful and happy life.
Just not the one she would have chosen if she’d had any say.
Jacob heard the shower shut off and waited for Teagan to stroll into the main room. When she did, she was wrapped in an oversize hotel robe, long, damp hair free of salon curls and her beautiful face scrubbed squeaky clean. She took him in, too, in his gray T-shirt and weekend drawstring pants, before studying the room service feast he’d ordered up.
She laughed. “Well, someone’s hungry.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth. “Always.”
They each moved forward until he was close enough to repeat the scene that had gotten things started last night. After sliding a hand around the back of her neck, with great purpose and pleasure, he tasted those sweet lips again.
But this kiss was different. Because it would be one of their last? Or the start of something more? Something new?
He gradually broke the kiss but didn’t step away. Being this close again, he felt recharged. Ready for anything, including finding more time to please this woman in every conceivable way.
But first...
“We need coffee.” He reached for the silver service pot. “At least I do.”
As he poured two cups, she held up a hand. “No sugar for me.”
He handed Teagan’s cup over then dropped two lumps into his own, as well as an inch of cream. Chugging back a mouthful, he pulled out a seat for her before grabbing a strip of crispy bacon.
Let the feast begin!
After pulling in her chair, Teagan inspected a glass-covered dish. “Is that steak?”
“Filet mignon. Goes great with hollandaise.”
There was grilled tomato, smashed avocado, sautéed mushrooms, a pile of golden hash browns and more. It smelled so darn good. But she only reached for the muesli container and shook a modest helping into a bowl. Tacking his smile back on, Jacob helped himself to the smorgasbord. This morning, he could eat enough for two.
Earlier, he’d laid her gown over the back of a couch. She caught sight of it now before eyeing the door to the suite.
“This’ll be interesting.” She set down the container. “My first walk of shame.”
“If anyone can get away with wearing that evening gown this time of day, it’s you.”
She was busy searching the room-service spread again. Really looking this time, like she couldn’t find what she wanted. Impossible.
He put his fork down. “Are we missing something?”
“Plant-based milk?”
“Like soy?”
“Or almond.”
He got to his feet. “I’ll order some up.”
Waving him off, she reached for the pancakes. “This is even better.”
No trouble, but he wouldn’t push. If she was happy, so was he. And after breakfast, before they thought about jetting back to ordinary life, there might be time enough to revisit what they had discovered in each other the night before. Frankly, he wanted to slip the robe off her shoulders, taste every inch of that incredible body, and then do it all over again.
She was looking at his plate. He looked down, too. Ha. He’d forgotten all about the food.
As he pushed a loaded fork into his mouth and Teagan poured syrup over a pancake, she said, “I suppose you need to check out soon and get back.”
He chewed and swallowed while pouring them juice. “My flight’s not till one.”
“Mine’s around that time, too.”
“You need a lift to the airport?”
“No, no. I just don’t want to hold you up.”
“I’m in no hurry.” Watching how she was downing that juice, he asked, “Are you?”
She set down her empty glass. “It’s Sunday.”
Right. “The weekend. Time to relax. Forget about work.”
Although tomorrow would be a day and a half. He had depositions to sort, background notes, too. There was an afternoon meeting scheduled with that defamation client—former Londoner, Grant Howcroft. Hunter Publications was in for a very public kick in the corporate pants. Making up tales might sell magazines but—moral of the story, boys—dishonesty does not pay.
“It must be full-on being a big-name lawyer,” Teagan said as she cut into her syrup-soaked pancake.
Was he looking preoccupied?
“It can get busy,” he said, loading his fork again.
“Even on weekends?”
Remembering how her legs had dug into the back of his thighs as she’d bucked up against him, Jacob gave her his word. “Not this weekend.”
“Are you sure?”
He wanted to laugh. “Absolutely.”
“It’s just... I’ve seen that expression before. The gotta get back to the grind look.”
Sure. “There’s an element of that. You’d know, with a business of your own.”
“A small business. That’s more than enough.” She hastened to add, “Of course, people should make their own choices. Ambition isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
Ambition was a very good thing, particularly when someone had a past like his: a legacy of poverty, despair and why the hell bother.
“I had a weird upbringing. Guess that’s where I get my drive.” He put a little more sugar in his cup and listened to the tinkle of the spoon as he stirred. “How about you?”
“As far as drive goes? I want my business to do well.”
“It’s important to you?”
“Of course.”
He looped back to the heart of the question. “And your upbringing?” Her childhood?
“I wouldn’t say it was weird. More filled with challenges, I suppose.”
The previous night, they had learned so much about each other, and not all of it purely physical. And yet now, in the morning light, Teagan still seemed largely a mystery.
They both had flights to catch. Nevertheless, he wanted to know more—feel more, which was a big step for him. It was the right
