A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)(32)

He kissed her cheek, her jaw and then down her neck. Shivers accompanied the brush of his mouth. Very specific parts of her body were paying attention, and she found herself willing him to touch her br**sts.

She wrapped her arms around him and squirmed to get closer, hoping he would get the message. He shifted so he was kissing her mouth again, his tongue tangling with hers. Passion coiled around them, drawing them together.

One of his legs slipped between hers. His thigh pressed against her center. She pushed against the unyielding surface, wanting the contact, the sweetness of his fingers or even his mouth. The image of them naked together filled her mind and made her catch her breath.

He was hard already. She could feel that part of him pressing against her hip. They were both adults. Single. There was no reason not to—

He sat up and stared at her. “I should, ah, go.”

It sounded like more of a question than a statement. She could see the battle raging in his eyes. No doubt the fact that his business partner was her brother had something to do with it. And that he’d met her mother. He was being sensible. She should respect that. Which she did. Sort of.

“Okay,” she murmured.

“Unless you want me to stay.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Did you want me to order takeout? Are you hungry?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Now you’re messing with me again.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I expected better.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He grinned. “Was that a yes on me staying?”

She reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it slowly over her head. As she moved, she felt him stiffen. What she knew and he didn’t was that underneath she wore a camisole. She was still completely covered.

Still, as he stared at her, he looked like a man who had just discovered a miracle.

“That was a yes,” she whispered as he reached for her.

Chapter Ten

Evie carried a pot of coffee and a plate of toast upstairs. She was tired in the best possible way. Lack of sleep due to a charming, handsome man in her bed was an excuse she could fully embrace. She walked into the bedroom and set the plates and coffee on the dresser. She pulled two mugs out of her robe pockets. Before she could pour, Dante stepped out of the bathroom…naked.

He smiled when he saw her. “You’re back.”

“Are you surprised? I said I would return with coffee.”

“I would have been just as happy to see you if you’d come back without any.”

He crossed the space between them, took the mugs from her and put them on the dresser, then pulled her into his arms. As she stepped into his embrace, he pushed off her robe and she let it fall to the floor.

Then his hands were touching her, and she was leaning in to have a little personal contact of her own.

They’d made love twice in the night, then slept in a tangle of arms and legs. She would have thought he was the type to disappear after the deed, but he’d settled in and she’d been happy to have him stay. Now as he slid his hands over her hips and then up to her br**sts, she felt herself starting to melt again. But just as they started to kiss, her stomach growled.

Dante drew back. “You didn’t get any dinner last night, did you?”

Food hadn’t seemed very important. “I’m fine.”

“No way. You’re not starving on my watch.”

He picked up the robe and draped it around her shoulders, then pushed her toward the bed. She pulled her long hair out of the way, shrugged into the robe and slipped between the sheets. After pouring them each a mug of coffee, he carried one to her and handed her the plate of toast.

“Eat.”

“Yes, sir.”

He returned with his own mug and settled next to her on the bed. He sipped coffee and watched her finish a piece of toast.

“Better?” he asked when she’d finished.

She nodded. “Like I said, I’m fine.”

“You’re thin and you spend your day dancing. You need more food.”

“I weigh nearly ten pounds more than I did when I was dancing professionally.”

He leaned back in mock surprise. “And yet the earth manages to stay in its rotational orbit. Stunning.”

She grinned. “You think you’re funny.”

“I am funny.” He touched her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

“That’s the sex talking.”

“No, it’s me.” He leaned toward her. “Maybe later you can model some of your ballet costumes.”

She laughed.

“See,” he told her triumphantly. “I’m funny.”

“You’re a riot.”

“I’m not kidding about the costumes.”

She pushed him onto the pillows, then bent over and kissed him. “Do you have a dancer fantasy?”

“No, I have a fantasy about you. It’s specific. It’s also my favorite.”

She knew he was playing, but his words were oddly touching. “I’ve never been anyone’s fantasy before.”

“Sure you have,” he said before he kissed her. “You just didn’t know.” His mouth lingered. Then he drew back and pointed to the toast. “Eat more. You’ll need to keep your strength up for later.”