Page 18 of Help Wanted: Wife

Kissing her had changed everything. He pressed his fingers to his eyelids. He’d promised himself he’d let it go. If he couldn’t apologize, he should at least not mention the kiss ever again. He shouldn’t risk destroying an excellent business relationship and a growing friendship. For a while, he’d feared he’d ruined something good.

After the kiss, interactions that had been natural, easygoing had become awkward, their conversations stilted as they worked in the tiny booth. Not until they closed up, and he’d taken her to see the progress at the bakery, had the air cleared between them. She’d squealed with such delight and excitement, he’dalmost kissed her all over again. He had someone to share his joy with.

Around her, he felt happy, whole. It couldn’t be wrong to crave that, could it? He’d promised Sala before she went into the stasis pod that there would never be another woman for him. As long as he kept the marriage on a friendship footing and didn’t fall in love, that wasn’t breaking his promise, was it? He was just so tired of being sad.

Prudence’s back was to him, her breathing slow and even. He reached out and curled a lock of her flaxen hair between his fingers then let it fall.

Let it go. Let it go.But he couldn’t.

“Are you awake?” he whispered. If she was asleep, he would say no more. He would do nothing. He would accept the status quo—or what the status quo had been before he’d kissed her.

He held his breath. She gave no response, continued to breathe slow and deep, no change in tenor.

That’s that.He exhaled.

“No,” came the belated low reply. She rolled over.

In the darkness, he couldn’t see her face, but he felt her breath, or imagined he did, and her tantalizing lemony-fresh scent wafted over him. He’d been awashin her scent while kissing her. The smell had lingered around him throughout the afternoon.

“I don’t regret kissing you. I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m not sorry it happened.” How could something that had felt so right be wrong?

“It surprised me, but I don’t regret it.”

“So, what should we do about it?”Please don’t say forget it.

In the darkness, he saw the gleam of white teeth. “Maybe do it again?”

His gliteri tingled with a pleasure-pain. His cock throbbed. He reached out and cupped her cheek then leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. He didn’t seek entry, kept teasing until she uttered a hitching protest and curled her hand around his neck.

He smiled and deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past her parted lips. She scooted closer, and he gathered her into his arms. Lips clung while tongues played. He roved his hands over her shoulders and back. His cock ached, and his gliteri felt as if the sigils were burning into his skin.

They exchanged long, drugging kisses, one after the other, until he broke away, panting. Her breathing sounded equally labored. Tucking her head against his chest, he hugged her and pressed featherlight kisses toher eyelids. It was amazing how turmoil and contentment and guilt and lust could coexist.

Her hand, resting on his chest, slid up to his shoulder. She trailed her fingers over his sensitive, reactive gliteri. Down. Up again. “Your gliteri is so soft. Is it sensitive?” Down. Up. She trailed a meandering, maddening path, stoking the flames. “Do you feel that?”

“Yes.” His voice came out strangled. She needed to stop. More than his arm and shoulder were reacting. She’d lit up his entire body.

Before her arrival, he was barely alive. Anesthetized by the lingering grief, he’d walked, talked, worked, but he’d been going through the motions. Nothing penetrated the surface. He’d been unable to remember what desire, humor, what living had felt like. Prudence brought it rushing back, hotter, stronger than ever. She’d revitalized him.

A cover hid his lower body, but if not for the darkness, she’d notice his erection. Her wayward hand continued to caress his arm and shoulder. He bit off a groan and caught her wrist, bringing it to his chest. This was moving way beyond a few kisses. She had no idea what she was doing. “Prudence…”

“Larth…” Her voice sounded low, husky, teasing, seductive.

She knows what she’s doing.

The situation was spiraling out of control; need and desire wracked his body. The situation called for prudence—but his body ached for Prudence of a different kind. “We should think about this…what about tomorrow?”

In the harsh light of day, would there be regrets? Complications? They had to work together. Even the kiss had, for a time, made things awkward. What if they screwed up a good business relationship, the sole reason she’d come here?

“Or…” She raised up to lean over him. Soft breasts pressed against his ribs through her nightdress. She stroked his jawline with her finger. “Or…we could think about tomorrow tomorrow and enjoy tonight.” She brushed her lips against his.

With a groan, he capitulated, cupping her head and deepening the kiss. He couldn’t fight her and his desire when body and soul were crying for him to lose himself in her. He plundered her mouth, his lips moving over hers, his tongue exploring the recesses, dancing with hers.

Her hand settled on his shoulder again, caressing his gliteri. Did she have any idea what that did to him?

He cupped her breast through her nightdress, finding the hard nipple and pinching lightly. Her pelvis rocked against his leg. Breaking off the kiss, he tugged at the shift, and together, they pulled it over her head.I want to see her.With a tap of his wrist, a gentle, low light illuminated the room.

“Did you do that?” she gasped.

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