Page 19 of Bride Bargain

Um. What?

IfI’m still interested?

If I still want Elliot Ramsay?

If I still crave him with each ragged beat of my heart?

“Oh, you are such a doofus,” I say, shoving my chair back and dropping to my knees. My adrenaline is finally crashing, but there’s something else seeping through my veins now, buoying up my heavy limbs. Something much sweeter. Something bright and warm.

Hope.

“What the—” my boss says as I crawl beneath his desk.

Eight

Elliot

“What on earth are you doing?” I shove my chair back to peer beneath the desk. Two hands land on top of my thighs, squeezing gently, and I nearly jolt clean out of my skin. “Claire?”

Her giddy laugh floats out to greet me. “Isn’t it obvious? Come on, smart guy.” She rubs my thighs through the dark fabric of my pants, and my brain short circuits. There’s nothing but a high pitched buzzing sound in my skull. “You can figure this out.”

Uh. Can I?

Because as far as I can tell, Claire and I had a terrible fight last night, and we were just discussing divorce papers. Now the woman of my dreams is on her knees beneath my desk, her clothes rustling as she shifts out of sight—and though I know what Ihopeis happening, this is not an assumption I’m about to make.

“If you want something from the mini fridge,” I start to say, breaking off to curse quietly as Claire starts working my beltloose, her pale hands moving in my lap, “I can—fuck.I can pass it to you.”

There’s a pleased hum, then my belt slides through its buckle. Claire’s hands pause in my lap, resting torturously high up my thighs.

“Elliot,” she says, with so much affection it makes my head spin. “I don’t want another water. You know what’s happening here.”

Christ. Yes, okay, I do. The signs are unmistakable, even for me.

“Are you okay with it?” Claire pushes, her voice gentle. “Do you want me to keep going or not?”

Is that seriously a question? Is there a hypothetical universe out there where Iwouldn’twant Claire’s mouth on me? Of course not. So…

To hell with it. To hell with divorce papers, and treading carefully, and doing the right thing. To hell with everything except Claire’s hands on my thighs, their warmth searing me through the fabric of my pants.

My heart slams against my rib cage.

She’smine.

Turns out she always has been. Now we just need to get out of our own way.

“Keep going,” I rasp, rolling my chair back so Claire has to crawl after me—because if this is about to happen for the first time, you’d better believe I want to see every detail. Want to see her cheeks hollow as she sucks me down. Want to wrap her wild hair around my fist. “Fuck, keep going, sweetheart. I’d give anything for you to keep going.”

Claire smiles up at me as she gets into position between my spread legs—and there’s so much love in that gaze, my whole chest shudders in response. Am I dreaming?

“I’m sorry about last night,” I choke out.

Claire nods and pops my pants button open. “Me too.”

“I just—I’ve loved you for so long, and you’re so perfect, Claire, and I lose my head when it comes to you—”

“Elliot?” My wife pulls the zipper down, the crackling sound so loud in this silent room. The hairs on my arms stand on end. “Me too.”

She gives me a wicked smile, her cheeks already flushed. Those sage green eyes are so bright, so clear, so beautiful.

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