Cal got up from the chair and walked to the bureau. “I was thinking about our conversation regarding books. Reading. You said you enjoyed Austen, Dickens. Fitzgerald. You know, boring old classics, dusty with age.” Opening a drawer, he took out a few condoms and laid them on the table. “Is that what you’re still reading?”
She watched him reach inside the drawer, sifting around for something. What the heck was going on? Morgan fought for sanity. “Umm, I wasn’t expecting a literary discussion right now, but yes, I told you. I like the classics.”
“Interesting. Did you finish up the story on the inn? You know, the one in Boonsboro?”
Uh-oh.
Morgan stared at him with suspicion. “Yes. Why are you so interested?”
His fingers closed around the object he’d been looking for, and he pulled it out of the drawer. A bright, silky red tie and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs were laid next to the condoms. The roaring in her ears grew to epic proportions, and her blood flowed thick and hot in her veins. A small moan broke from her lips. He knew. Oh, God, he knew.
“Nora Roberts is a popular author,” he said conversationally. His fingers stroked the bright tie in a loving caress. Wetness dripped down her thigh. “She certainly doesn’t write dry history books. Seems you’re a bit of a romantic, Morgan Raines. And from your newest read, a very naughty, naughty little girl.”
She tried to speak, couldn’t, then tried again. “You read my Kindle.”
“Yep. I grabbed it to check something on the Internet quickly. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the current scene with Amy and Brad. Quite hot.” He clucked his tongue and faced her. The full force of his masculine presence whipped around her. His eyes glazed with lust and a determination that wracked shivers from her body. “I took the liberty of checking out your library to see what else I was missing. There wasn’t a Dickens in the bunch.”
“Cal—”
“I’m going to do very bad things to you tonight, Morgan Raines. You won’t need a safe word.”
“Cal—”
“ ’Cause all you have to do is say yes.”
He stopped in front of her. His thumb pressed against her lips, dragging them open. Her tongue flicked out to taste him. He leaned in, and his breath struck her with each deliberate word. “I’m going to make some of your fantasies come true tonight, baby. What’s your answer?”
The floodgates broke open and she reached for him, tangling her fingers in his thick hair and offering her naked body up to every filthy thing he wanted to do to her.
“Yes.”
His mouth came down on hers, and he delivered on his promise.
Hours later, Cal listened to her breathing in the silence. Stroking her back, he relaxed in the tangle of damp sheets and held her. Her leg was thrown over his thigh and hooked around his knee. Her silvery hair spilled over his arm and caught slivers of moonlight that leaked through the half-open window.
He couldn’t let her go.
When Dalton had brought up her next job, his gut clenched and he fought to keep his shit together. She seemed to hesitate, as if she struggled with her decision to leave again as much as he was struggling to see if she’d stay. He didn’t have the answers, but Cal knew he’d do anything to make it work. She completed him. Oh, God, he was channeling stupid Jerry Maguire, but it was damn true. He liked the man he was around Morgan Raines. He saw a bright future that was completely cliché and wonderful. Dogs, children, chaos, having fights, making up, making love, building houses. He wanted it all. He wanted it with her.
“Morgan?”
“Yeah?” Her voice was tinged with the thread of sleep. Her warmth seeped into his skin.
“I love you.”
She stiffened. His heart banged against his chest, and dizziness threatened. Cal hadn’t said those words to anyone besides Felicia. Oh, crap, he was so stupid. Women didn’t want to hear that type of declaration after sex. They wanted it in the daylight, in a romantic setting, with more of an explanation of why he loved her. He’d screwed up. Could he take it back and tell her later? No, it was done. Ruined. He squeezed his eyes shut and trapped an aggravated groan. This was bad.
“I love you, too.”
The words hit his ears and his heart at the same time. A quiet joy settled into him, found a home, and stayed. She loved him. And they’d work out the rest later.
She didn’t say anything else after that. She didn’t have to.
Cal held her tight and they lay together in the dark.
chapter twenty-one
Yes, I’ll expect you here tomorrow afternoon,” Morgan said briskly. “I’ll pick you up from the airport and take you straight to Harrington . . . No, everything’s in order, and you’ll be ready to spend the first night in your new house . . . Good. Call me if there’s any questions or issues. Safe travels.”
She clicked off the phone and dragged in a breath.
It was almost showtime.
They’d worked tirelessly and nonstop over the last weeks as all the final details pulled together to create a livable home. Morgan stood on the newly paved path¸ looking up at the gorgeous blending of brick and stone, the two giant columns that set off a wraparound porch. Two smaller decks were strategically placed above the porch so an onlooker’s eye would be drawn to the center and caught in the impression of sheer power and grace. Each precious curve and piece of wood had been lovingly picked and it seemed to show in the aristocratic lines of the house.
Purple plums, rosebushes, African grass, pear trees, and an array of distinctive landscaping swirled through rainbow rock to a private deck with a hot tub and a gorgeous cedar-built sauna and outdoor shower. Elegant French doors opened up to the back of the house and led to a private circular staircase connected to the master bedroom. The Rosenthals could easily leave their own oasis in secret and be straight at the hot tub without walking through the house.