Page 50 of Gentle Persuasion

“Thank God,” he answered, and took what she offered.

***

Cole couldn’t breathe and he was hot as a two-dollar pistol. He opened his eyes and knew the reason why. Sometime during the night, he’d discarded his covers and used Debbie instead. She was wedged lengthwise beneath him, sleeping the sleep of the innocent.

He smiled and yawned, then rolled over to face her and ran his hands through her hair, tousling her curls into even more disorder. The proximity of her backside was too tempting to resist as he cupped her in the palms of his hands and shook her from side to side.

“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s late. I need to get up.”

“Okay,” she muttered. “Be careful. See you this evening.” Then she snuggled her chin against his breastbone, intent on getting at least another hour’s sleep.

He grinned. “Debbie, open your eyes.”

She groaned, mumbling something about paying him back, and then gasped at her first sight of daylight.

“My gosh!” She elevated herself instantly, propping her arms on either side of his torso as she stared blankly around the room. “How did this happen?”

“You don’t remember?” He leered and wiggled his eyebrows.

She blushed all over. “I remember plenty,” she muttered, and started to move when his hands caught her hips and slipped her back onto a very interesting and sensitive spot that decided to make itself known.

“Oooh.”

“My sentiments exactly,” he groaned, and thrust upward.

Her eyes closed, her head tilted, and her hands grabbed hold of his shoulders to keep from falling forward. Awareness centered into one spiraling point of heat and pleasure that tightened and tightened until it burst, spilling Debbie forward. She collapsed into his arms.

For long, heart-pounding moments she was held within his strength. When her breathing resumed its normal pace and her sanity returned, Cole rolled her over beneath him, leaned up on one elbow, flicked a curl out of her eyes and whispered, “Good morning, my lady.”

She blinked. His lady! What she wanted to be was his wife. Last night had been magic. She remembered everything…including the fact that Cole Brownfield had finally said he loved her. For now, it was enough.

“Good morning,” she said. “ I like the way you wake up.”

He leaned his head back and laughed and laughed, his teeth a band of white against his dark, tanned skin. California sun had been good to this man.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m glad I could please.”

“Oh, you pleased…very much.”

Her husky whisper was giving him ideas that had to be saved for later. He was already going to be late for work. And he didn’t give a damn. Rick could tease all he wanted. It had been worth it.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, and gave her a quick but firm and branding kiss. “But I’ll be back.”

He rolled off the bed, retrieved his shorts, and had started out the door when he realized she’d remained too silent. It reminded him of what he’d walked in on last night before everything had happened. He turned and stared at the suitcase on the floor and the disarray of souvenirs in plain sight.

“I’ll be here,” she finally answered.

He nodded, satisfied that he’d gotten the answer he needed, and walked away.

It was much later in the day before he realized he’d never finished what he’d started to tell her last night. Yes, he’d told her he loved her. But he’d never asked her to marry him. He’d meant to. But her tears had driven everything out of his mind except regret that he’d made her cry.

He started to pick up the phone and then grinned to himself and dropped it back in its cradle. What’s the matter with you, Brownfield? You can’t propose over a phone. He shrugged and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He needed to get a grip. There would be plenty of time later.

It was an assumption he shouldn’t have made.

Chapter 10

Thomas Holliday was dead. The news had filtered through Narcotics like bad news always does—fast. And the fact that he was supposed to have committed suicide—in Narcotics, they weren’t buying it.

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