‘You and me both.’ And then he kissed her back as though his life depended on it, pressed her entire body against him and still it wasn’t enough. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her around him, backed her up to the kitchen surface as she tugged at his hair.

  He was losing the power to breathe, to speak and she was panting, her legs taut as she rocked against him, the colour high in her chest and her cheeks.

  She yanked his tie undone, wrapped it around her fists as she used it to anchor him close. Their kiss was wild, frenzied, their teeth clashing, chests heaving. He sensed she was close, the swift build-up surprising and intoxicating, feeding his own pleasure as she tore at his shirt next, buttons flying this way and that, and she gave a cursed apology.

  ‘I don’t care. I’ll buy another.’

  ‘I’ll buy it for you.’ She shoved his shirt from his shoulders and it caught on his wrists, hanging there as he brought her against his hardness, gave her the friction she craved and worshipped her moans.

  ‘Brendan, I can’t hold back—I can’t—’

  ‘Don’t, baby, let go.’

  ‘But I—I—’

  The intercom buzzed through the room and they froze, tongues entangled, bodies entwined.

  ‘Damnit, Charles...’

  ‘The alarm?’ she rasped.

  He should have known the man would check in. It was his job to.

  ‘If I don’t answer he’ll be up here in two.’

  And that would mean her getting dressed and there was no way he wanted her clothed, no way he wanted to risk a reset on this. ‘Don’t move.’

  Her cheeks flushed deeper, her nod a blessing and a curse. Because now she was naked on his kitchen counter and he had to make a call in sight. Temptation of the highest, most debilitating order.

  He dragged a hand through his hair, released her though he loathed every separated inch. He unbuttoned his cuffs, threw his shirt to the ground and pressed the receiver. ‘Sorry, Charles, false alarm. Thought I’d try my hand at cooking.’

  He caught her eye, her pulse ticking wildly in her throat, her breasts that undulated with every rapid breath she took, and down further still...

  ‘So, everything’s okay, sir...sir?’

  ‘Yes!’ It came out far harsher than he intended. Take a breath. ‘Everything save for the overdone eggs.’

  Charles chuckled. Hannah’s eyes danced. ‘Very well, sir. Have a good evening.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to.’

  He was back upon her in a heartbeat, his hands in her hair, his inhalation sharp as he kissed her and breathed her in. Her legs resumed their hooked position, her moan illicit and undoing him from within.

  ‘Tell me to stop and I will,’ he rasped against her mouth, his hands shifting down her body. ‘Tell me what you want, and I’ll do that too.’

  Because he would. He always would. It was as though he had been put on this earth with the sole purpose of worshipping this woman. At her side was where he found his peace, his pleasure and everything in between.

  ‘I don’t need to tell you, Brendan.’ Her nails raked down his back. ‘Because you already know.’

  She couldn’t have given his heart more pleasure and he groaned his response, dipping to catch one thrusting nipple between his teeth, and she cried out. He rolled her other between his thumb and forefinger, gently pinching, and she gripped him tighter.

  ‘I mean it, Brendan.’ She was so earnest, so desperate. ‘I want you. Here. Now.’

  He straightened, gazed down into her eyes that were so full of need there was no doubt in his mind that she meant it. And he wanted to treasure it, savour it.

  It wasn’t like that night in New York, tainted by Leon, tainted by her pain, by their betrayal too. This was something else. Deeper. Meaningful.

  He stroked the hair back from her face, kissed her softly. ‘I want you too.’

  She lowered her hands to his belt buckle and he didn’t stop her. She held his eye as she looped it through and unfastened his trousers. Bit her lip as she palmed him, the slightest squeeze and he bucked, his curse an exhalation as he gripped her wrist.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He struggled to take a breath, to speak. ‘Just go easy.’

  She frowned up at him, the flash of vulnerability in her eyes killing him. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

  ‘No. Hell, no. But I won’t last another second if you keep up with that.’

  Her sultry smile torched him, her palms easing around his hips as she smoothed away his briefs, his trousers with them. ‘Well, when you put it like that... I like seeing you out of control. I like being responsible for it.’

  She moved her hand over him and his body rocked in tune—it would be easy, too easy, to go with it. And he’d never been one for taking the easy road. Hannah had seen to that.

  ‘You’re not the only one.’

  He dropped to his knees before she could stop him, his mouth covering her sensitised flesh, his tongue flicking over her. She was so ready for him, her taste, her need, all a drug that he couldn’t get enough of. He teased her apart with his fingers and she bucked against him, her hands clawing at his hair as her breaths came thick and fast, his name too, and then she was juddering, her climax claiming her and flooding him with heat, with pleasure, with gratification unlike any other.

  She rocked and rocked as the waves worked their way through her body and he stayed with her, his touch softening, his kisses travelling up her front until he reached her lips. ‘We can take this to bed.’

  ‘No,’ she said into his eyes. ‘I want you here.’

  His body taut with need, his smile twitched. ‘Now?’

  She slid her palm between their bodies in answer and guided him home. He had to fight to keep his head from rolling back, fight to keep his eyes open as he moved within her, unwilling to break the connection she had forged.

  There was no holding back. No worrying about birth control. No layer of protection between them. Physically or mentally. The reminder that she was already pregnant with his child a primal force within and intensifying it all.

  He was done for...broken for ever...hers for ever...and he cursed.

  Desperate to break the spell. Desperate to push back the declaration that wanted to erupt. Words that she would never want to hear but his heart wanted to declare them anyway.

  ‘That’s it, baby, let go for me.’

  All for me...and only me.

  The walls around his heart were no more, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

  Her nails bit into his shoulders as she called his name over and over, and as she found her release, he found his. He felt so connected to her that, in that one blissful moment as he gazed into her glassy greys, he could almost believe they were one—in mind and spirit, heart and soul, in love.

  Almost.

  * * *

  ‘I’m surprised you came tonight.’

  Leon shot him a look across the kitchen as he opened the bottle of red Brendan and his date had brought to dinner. In the distance, the chatter of the women could be heard over the festive music playing on the sound system.

  ‘Hannah was very insistent.’

  ‘Well, it’s her birthday next week. How could you not, right?’

  Brendan refused to rise to the obvious note in his tone. ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Besides, we’ve only seen you once since my thirtieth last year, and she’s not stupid. She knows something’s up.’

  Okay, so he hadn’t been going to rise to it, but it seemed Leon was determined to go there...

  ‘You could always tell her the truth.’

  Leon gave a laugh that was all the more chilling for the fact it was so easy. ‘Tell her that I stole your client out from under you? Yeah, sure, that’ll go down so well.’

  Brendan shrugged. ‘I couldn’t care less, Leon. You did what you felt you had to.’

  And it had exposed his friend for the man he truly was—desperate, power-hungry and deeply insecure.

  ‘It wasn’t like you needed them, Brendan. You were set to make partner long before I did, thanks to your name alone. The legal warrior seeking justice for the Hart family... What firm could resist that?’

  Brendan clenched his jaw, fending off the pain of the past. ‘I said I don’t care, Leon.’

  ‘Only you do. Else there wouldn’t be this awkwardness between us now.’

  And what could he say to that? Other than, ‘You’re right.’

  ‘Do you know what it’s like to constantly be outshone by your best friend and your wife?’

  Leon’s blue eyes raked over him, the hint of regret and something unidentifiable residing there.

  ‘Okay, ex–best friend. No, of course you don’t. How could you possibly?’

  Brendan sighed. ‘Just leave it, okay? Hannah wants a nice evening...let’s give her one.’

  Now his laugh was cold. ‘Of course. Hannah. It’s always about Hannah...the glue that keeps us together...’

  ‘I don’t want her upset by this.’

  ‘No, you don’t ever want her upset by anything. It really must bust your gut every day that I—’

  ‘Leon, don’t.’

  ‘Leon? Brendan?’

  Hannah’s voice cut through the heat of the room, soft, wary.

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  He spun to face her. What had she heard? How had he not sensed her come up behind him? Normally he was attuned to her every step...

  ‘Everything’s fine, honey,’ Leon murmured, saccharine sweet. ‘We just need to invest in a better bottle-opener.’

  He carried the bottle out, leaving Hannah facing Brendan, her eyes probing.

  ‘Are things fine?’ she asked.

  Hardly, he wanted to choke out. I’m dating a woman your exact opposite, in the hope that I can eradicate you from my heart, and you’re married to a man who doesn’t deserve yours.

  Aloud, he said, ‘How can they not be fine, Han? It’s Christmas! The season of peace and goodwill to all men...’

  Even those men who didn’t deserve it but enjoyed it anyway because of the women in their lives...

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘WOW,’ SHE MURMURED against his chest. ‘So that just happened...’

  He pressed a kiss to her hair. ‘It did.’

  She shifted against him, her body suddenly bemoaning the hard surface beneath her, and he tensed.

  ‘Are you okay? Did I hurt you?’

  He was already brushing her hair back from her cheeks, tilting her head back to search her eyes. His genuine concern a never-ending threat to her carefully controlled life.

  His concern? Why don’t you focus on the intense connection and the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you, twice over, then work out the real threat?

  But then it was all part of the same package—the considerate, panty-melting, heart-tugging, alpha package that was Brendan Hart.

  ‘Hannah?’

  ‘Hurt me?’ she blurted, forcing herself to calm, forcing her tone to be as incredulous as she felt in the face of his question. How could he think he’d hurt her physically when he’d just given her the best sex of her life...on a kitchen counter too. ‘I’m pregnant, Brendan, not broken...unless you count having an abnormally high sex drive courtesy of said pregnancy.’

  His eyes sparkled, the post-orgasm glow in his cheeks lending him a boyish charm—he appeared younger, happier and more heart-tugging than ever. ‘That sounds like a perk to me.’

  ‘Not when it drives you to distraction, it isn’t.’

  ‘Is that what I’ve been doing, driving you to distraction?’

  She could see his ego preening beneath the surface and she gave a soft laugh, lowered her lashes. ‘I reserve the right to remain silent.’

  ‘Spoilsport.’

  Because how could she possibly tell him that she craved him? Day and night. That it wasn’t simply an itch that needed scratching, it was a permanent rash.

  ‘I hadn’t read about the sex-drive thing.’

  ‘Now that does surprise me, but, I assure you, it’s one hundred per cent true. Horny Pregnant Lady can attest to it.’

  He chuckled low in his throat.

  ‘It isn’t funny.’

  ‘It is kind of funny.’

  She shoved him, though she wasn’t going anywhere, they were still locked together, her legs hooked around him. ‘I’d like to see how you cope with thinking about sex twenty-four-seven.’

  ‘Well, I am a man...’

  She laughed. ‘I’d noticed.’

  ‘And I guess that makes me a handy solution too?’

  She felt her cheeks burn. ‘Are you asking whether I used you to scratch an itch?’

  ‘I’m not sure I like that particular term, but...’

  She shook her head but sobered with her thoughts as honest as they were...

  ‘Hannah?’

  ‘All jokes aside, Brendan, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m attuned to you in every way. Whether we’re at work, in the car, the midwife’s, here...my body knows you’re there and it—it craves you.’

  His eyes glimmered; his jaw pulsed. ‘You crave me?’

  ‘I know I shouldn’t. I know we’re friends. Just friends, but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I have your baby growing inside me, an unbreakable bond. Maybe it’s the night we shared which slips into my dreams or interrupts my thoughts when I’m supposed to be working and teases me to distraction. Or maybe it’s just you, something about you...’ And Lord she was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to stop. The honesty and outpouring so refreshing. ‘All I know is that I want you and only you, and I’m sorry. I never should have jumped you, like that, like this. I just—I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘Why are you apologising?’

  ‘Because I’ve muddied our relationship. It’s already complicated enough without adding sex into the equation.’

  ‘I hate to tell you this, but that ship sailed over two months ago.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I do, but I still don’t see the problem. You want me, and, in case it’s escaped your notice, I want you too. Why can’t we enjoy this for as long as we want it?’

  ‘You’re serious?’

  ‘We’re already pregnant, Han...’

  ‘How much worse can it get? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘You’re right though. We hardly planned this and for two people who meticulously plan everything in their lives, work or otherwise, this situation is already messed up enough.’

  ‘We can’t change what’s done.’

  ‘No, but we don’t have to make it any worse either.’

  ‘I think you’re overthinking it.’

  ‘And I think you’re not thinking enough.’

  ‘Fine, Ice. Let’s agree that this was a mistake and move on.’

  He went to shift away and the sudden chill through her veins had her clutching him back, nothing to do with the use of her nickname and everything to do with the loss of him. ‘No. I don’t want that either.’

  ‘Then what do you want? Because right now, you’re—’

  She cut his words off with a kiss. Hot and urgent and driven by her panic, because when she kissed him the world righted itself and her heart raced, not with panic, but with passion. And that was so much easier to deal with than the issues beneath the surface.

  ‘Okay—’ he broke away first, his ragged breath both thrilling and reassuring ‘—so I don’t know what that kiss meant, but I think I need to get you off this counter and feed you some dinner before I take you to bed and ravish you instead.’

  ‘Now who’s the spoilsport?’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BRENDAN CHECKED HIS WATCH. Almost midnight and still he couldn’t sleep.

  Curled into his side, Hannah gently snored, her presence as warming as it was unsettling, and he couldn’t lie about the cause of his insomnia. It had plagued him for days. Ever since they’d crossed the line and started sleeping together, and he didn’t just mean the sex. Which was great. Out-of-this-world great. He meant actually sleeping together. In his room that he’d originally given up for her and had swiftly become theirs.

  Had he been too rash to suggest it? Yes.

  Did he regret it? No.

  Because this time with her was precious and very much borrowed. Unless he could find a way to make it permanent. To let this arrangement slip seamlessly into their new life with their child. To live together as a family.

  They might not have had an orthodox beginning but that didn’t mean they couldn’t end up in a normal relationship. That he couldn’t have the woman he’d been in love with for as long as he could remember.

  And now he had to make a choice, he could be honest with her about his feelings and risk her running. Or he could keep quiet and they could carry on as they were and he would live each day fearing the moment she brought it to an end.

  Or worse, met someone else.

  She stirred beside him and he realised he was gripping her tight, his tension and desperation overflowing into his hold. It was no use. He couldn’t lie there staring at the ceiling wishing sleep would come, wishing he could have all that he desired, all that he almost had...

  Carefully, he slid out from underneath her, tugged on his lounge pants, took up his phone and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He headed to the living area, the grand piano in the corner beckoning him over. He felt rusty, his fingers tight. How long had it been since he’d played?

  Before Hannah it had been work getting in the way and since Hannah it had been this. Their mess, as she’d so aptly put it. He slid onto the stool, placed his phone on the top and lifted the key cover, flexed his fingers and closed his eyes, let age-old intuition take over. He played softly, the tune heavy with his mood, the tempo undulating with it too. He lost sight of where he was, why he was there, let everything around him and the chaos within him fall away...

 

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