Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
The conversation was informative, giving her a picture of the various members of Team Four and their spouses. She wanted their dinner to go on for a long time, yet she wanted it to be over. She felt as if she’d waited a lifetime for Diego. She was grateful when Rubin and Jonquille said their goodbyes and finally left her alone with Diego.
“I really want to take a hot bath before bed,” she managed to say.
“Good idea, sweetheart. You do that while I get our kitchen clean and check on Grace, and then I’ll hit the shower.”
Of course he was going to do all that while she soaked in a hot bath. That was so Diego. Truthfully, the hot bath relaxed her. Through the window, she could see so many stars, a vast array lighting up the sky. The stars looked like points of fire, a scattering of brilliant multifaceted diamonds. When one fell, she made a wish as she slowly dried herself off, all the while staring out the window. The only thing she had that might be comfortable to sleep in was a T-shirt that fell to her thighs. She put that on and nothing else before making her way to the master bedroom.
Leila stood uncertainly just inside the door, holding on to the frame with one hand. This was their first real night together, and she wanted it to be good for Diego. She didn’t want to let him down. He was sitting up, already in bed, his hair still damp from his shower. His chest was naked and on display in all its muscular glory. The sheet was pulled up to his hips. He looked up the moment she appeared in the doorway as if he were tuned to her presence.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Diego encouraged.
She felt the color sweeping up her neck into her face. “I don’t have anything nice for tonight.”
“I don’t need lingerie, Leila. I need you.”
“But don’t men like to see their women in lingerie so they can unwrap them, kind of like a Christmas present?”
“Where did you get that idea?” There was a touch of masculine amusement in his voice that should have put her off, but the way his voice could turn velvet soft, stroking over her skin in a caress, prevented her from taking offense.
She sent him a smile, trying for calm, for confident, when her insides had become a roller coaster. She pressed a hand to her stomach to keep the butterflies at bay. She believed in honesty, and she wasn’t in the least embarrassed by her reasoning.
“I read a lot of books. The heroes in the books seemed to like their women to wear really sexy lingerie to bed so they can take it off.”
She half expected him to laugh, but she should have known better. This was Diego. He didn’t make fun of her lack of knowledge or her reading habits. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes drifting over her with utter focus and intensity, heating her everywhere his gaze touched.
“I think those books are going to give us valuable information, Leila. At the same time”—he held out his hand—“we’re us. You and me. No one else is in our bedroom, and we can do anything we want. Right now, this minute, if you’re not ready, I want you to know we can sleep together the way we’ve been sleeping. Close.” There was reassurance and honesty in his tone.
She wanted him. She wasn’t afraid. Nervous, yes, but not afraid. She wasn’t going to leave him thinking she didn’t want to be with him in every way.
Leila crossed the room to him. Diego flipped back the sheet to allow her to slide in beside him. She nuzzled his shoulder with her chin. “I don’t care that I’m not in lingerie for myself. I wanted this night to be special for you.”
“Lingerie doesn’t make our night special, sweetheart. You do.” He turned her face toward his with two fingers under her chin, and then his lips were on hers.
Gentle. So gentle. Barely there. His touch burned like a brand despite being so featherlight. There was no demand for entrance. No demand on her at all, but the need was urgent. Hunger blossomed, and she parted her lips. Fire poured into her mouth, down her throat, rushed through her veins and settled low. Burning. Demanding. Growing into a full firestorm.
His fingers tightened in her hair, so she felt that same burn in her scalp. Little flicks of electricity seemed to snap and spark over her skin. Heat rushed through her veins to pool low with an urgent demand. She had never felt so alive. Every nerve ending flared and sizzled. He kissed her over and over, deepening the kiss, but never once was he rough. He turned her heart over with his gentleness.