Page 5 of Wade

“I suppose.”

He grinned at her. “You are not going to use me as a damn shield.”

“Was it that obvious?” she asked with a grimace.

“I happen to know you.” He held onto her hand. “Give him what he wants sis. He deserves it.”

*****

He was prepared for a fight and had worked it into his schedule. She pissed him off, was the only one who could get past his cool and formerly uncaring attitude to get to the heart of him. She was the heart of him and that pissed him off even more. She had the power to bring him to his damn knees.

He was Wade Bramwell, for Christ’s sake! He had thousands of people who answered to him. He made decisions involving staggering sums of money on a daily basis. His hotels were the talk of the whole damn world. In the past, women pursued him, and he did not have to lift a finger. Now he was the one doing the chasing.

He was in love for the first time in his life and he was caught up in the grip of uncertainty and fear.

Each time he left to go on his business trips, he was afraid that she was going to decide that it was not working between them.

He wanted a child with her. Desperately wanted that to happen and was furious with himself that he had practically begged her to think about it. He had given her a timeline. Give me an answer or – or what? He wondered in despair. It’s over? Christ knew the very thought of leaving her was making him panic. She had that power over him.

He did not dare think or imagine that he was pushing the subject of a child because of his fear of losing her. That would simply be too pathetic and certainly beneath him.

And it made him as mad as hell that she would not consider marrying him. He had proposed to her several months ago and she had looked at him as if he had asked her to sell her body to the highest bidder.

“We are not ready”

“You mean, you are not ready.”

“Then I am not ready. We are not even into a year of the relationship yet. You could find someone else and where would that leave us? Leave me?”

He had wanted to just leave. Right then and there, just say to hell with it and be on his way, but even the thought of it crippled him.

Setting his jaw, he dismissed his driver with a curt nod and made his way towards the elevator that would take him straight up to the suite. He was going to have it out once and for all. Either she was amenable to his request or- He broke off abruptly, angry that he could not even follow up on the thought.

Using his card, he swiped at the slot and the doors swung open. He was about to step down, when he saw her standing there and everything inside him melted.

She was wearing a slinky black robe, one that he had brought her back from Morocco. Her thick dark brown hair with the golden highlights was loose around her shoulders. The robe sagged open at the front and his hungry gaze took in the swell of generous flesh.

"Hi." She was the first to speak, because frankly, he could not find the words.

"Hi." Stepping in, he closed the doors behind him and made a show of shrugging out of his jacket.

"Let me get that." She took the case from him and put it away and then took his jacket.

"What's this?"

"I missed you." Placing the jacket on the limb of the coat tree, she turned into his arms. "I made dinner."

His thick brown brows lifted. "What have you done?"

She smiled at him, that dazzling smile that had the power to turn his knees to jelly. "I told Mrs. M. to take the time off and I made Chicken Alfredo. I wanted to be alone with my man."

"We are using labels?"

"Hmm." She was busy tugging at his sweater. "You are cold."

"It was raining." He fisted a hand into her hair and brought her face up. "And I was spoiling for a fight."

"I know."

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