Page 36 of At Your Service
He hissed and pulled back, looking up at her from where he’d knelt down with a horrified expression. “That’s not funny.”
She chuckled. She couldn’t help it. He was adorable when he was scared. “Yeah, it is.”
He shook his head and eased the towel between her legs, lifting one off the floor to rub down to her feet, then up again. He did the same with the other and before he stood, eased the towel between her legs taking special care to dry her there.
“Your turn,” she said when those stirrings of desire started to buzz.
How could she be so turned on by him, so frequently and so soon? The tryst in his father’s vintage car was different from the limo on so many levels she didn’t know where to begin. Perhaps at the part where she was certain his family would despise her if they knew she’d just disrespected their dinner invitation in such a way.
The moment he stood to his full six-two-and-a-half inches stark naked in front of her, she knew that what she was feeling had nothing to do with what his family thought of her and everything to do with him. Drops of water still rolled over his tawny-hued skin and he stared down at her with dark brown eyes that held more warmth than any she’d ever seen.
She raised the towel and rubbed his chest then moved down each of his arms before returning to his torso, all while that diamond on her left hand sparkled like a bright reminder of what this could never be.
“I don’t think this was in either of our job descriptions,” she said, her voice hollow to her own ears. They weren’t supposed to be doing any of this and yet they were doing it, and she suspected they were doing it as well as any real couple.
He caught her hands just as she was about to drag the towel past his waist. “That’s because there’s really no accurate way to describe you.”
And what exactly was that supposed to mean?
Maybe he was just as confused as she was about what was happening between them, or what she thought might be happening. She’d never felt this way before and wasn’t sure if she was ready to take it from lust to love, but knew for certain it was more than what their fake scenario called for.
“Yes, that’s me.” She dabbed the towel over his hips. “The indescribable fake fiancée.” Reminding herself that keeping things light between them was for the best, she bent down to dry his thighs—strong and fit—then his calves and his feet, which were a lot prettier than she’d imagined. Coming up again, she rubbed the towel over what could arguably be one of the best parts of him. To say this part of Major felt the same way about her might have been an understatement if it hadn’t begun to stiffen at her ministrations.
He took her by the shoulders and pulled her up to stand in front of him. “Come on, Fake Fiancée. Let’s get ready for bed.”
She hadn’t realized she’d frowned until he asked, “Whoa, what’s that look for? You don’t want to sleep with me in my bed? Should we have gone back to your apartment instead?”
“Oh no, that’s not it.” In fact, she’d been flattered when he’d announced during the drive from his parents’ house that they would be coming to his place. She’d refused to ask why he hadn’t brought her here before, chalking it up to their little charade instead of any other personal reason he might not want her there.
He looked at her strangely, a brow lifting in question. “Then what is it?”
“I’m hungry,” she said, because it was true and because she wasn’t sure what she was feeling for him at this moment. Or what he was really feeling for her.
“I mean no offense to your mother’s dinner. It was a wonderful spread, but I’m used to a little more than soup, salad and the smallest portions of beef rib tips and asparagus that I’ve ever seen.”
That’s right, insult his mother instead of telling him she was afraid she was really falling for him.
When he threw back his head and laughed, Nina relaxed. Laughter was definitely better than his ordering her to get dressed and get out.
“I planned to wait until you were asleep before sneaking into the kitchen to grab something else to eat.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Why didn’t you say something? I thought that’s the way your family was used to eating, so I didn’t want to comment.”
“My mother doesn’t cook, so dinners are always catered. The only time we get loads of food is on Thanksgiving and Christmas. My father says that’s the best time of the year.”
He continued to laugh while they finished with the towels and dropped them into the hamper by the door.
“You go on into the bedroom and find something to sleep in. I mean, I’m good with you staying just the way you are, but I’m guessing you’d like to be dressed to eat.”
They were still naked. Yet they’d been standing there talking as if they showered and talked in the nude every day.
“Oh, are you going to order something?”
“No. I’m going to cook us something.”
“You cook?”
She knew she was frowning this time because she couldn’t believe that Major was good in the kitchen.
