Hero in Disguise (Reed Sisters: Holding out for a Hero 1)

He lifted one hand to touch her cheek. “I wanted you so much that I went a little crazy. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She smiled and kissed his palm. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

“How’s your leg?”

“Deliriously happy.”

He chuckled and pulled her down against his chest. “Lie still a moment,” he ordered her indulgently. “I need some recovery time.”

“Mmm.” She snuggled her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder and idly caressed his chest through the swirls of dark hair. Her eyes closed in pure contentment, she allowed herself to drift, holding serious thought at bay. She was not quite ready to consider the change that had just come about in her life—and she knew the change was a momentous one. No, for now she wanted only to bask in the security of Derek’s arms. Her eyes opened halfway and her gaze wandered idly around his bedroom, narrowing a little as she took in the assorted trophies and sports pictures with which he had chosen to decorate. Even that discovery was pushed quickly to the back of her mind. No thoughts of physical handicaps or other differences between them were to be allowed to intrude on her euphoria.

As if to block any further observations, her eyes closed again, firmly. She wouldn’t have believed that she would be able to sleep again so soon after her nap, but the deep, even rhythm of Derek’s breathing soon lulled her into a light dream state, a soft smile gracing her flushed features.

The line between dream and reality wavered and languorously dissolved. A tiny sound of pleasure flowed from Summer’s slightly parted lips as she felt her heavy-limbed body being thoroughly and leisurely caressed. Arching like a lazy cat into the gently arousing strokes, she opened luminous eyes to study Derek’s face, so close to her own.

His face would never look soft, but it held more warmth now than she had ever imagined seeing there. His eyes gleamed silver, his mouth had relaxed its stern lines into a semismile. Fascinated by the way his dark, disheveled hair was beginning to curl at his forehead—so that’s why he keeps it so short, she thought in tender amusement—she drank in the sight of him. He looked approachable, she mused, reaching up to touch his lean cheek. He looked wonderful. “I take it you’ve recovered?” she murmured huskily.

He kissed the soft upper slope of her breast. “Umm.”

She took that to be an affirmative. “Oh, good.” Her drawl turned to a gasp as his tongue darted out to circle her already distended nipple, and then he was pulling the dusky peak into the liquid warmth of his mouth. Summer moaned her approval and threaded her fingers into his hair to hold him closer.

Derek’s hand slid down her side, pausing to trace each rib. She squirmed, offering her other breast to his worshipful mouth. Her attention alternated between the manipulations of his lips, teeth and tongue, and his slowly descending hand, which was shaping her hips.

She stiffened fractionally when his exploring fingers slid down her leg and touched the ridges of her scars. How could he not be repulsed by them?

Misinterpreting her tension, Derek lifted his mouth from her moistened nipple to kiss her chin. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I know. It’s not that,” she assured him. “It’s just—”

She stopped by necessity when his mouth covered hers. Even as he kissed her with a hunger that was unabated by their recent lovemaking, Derek cupped her impaired knee, his fingers tender, soothing. Uncertain of what message to read into his actions, Summer reached down to capture his wrist and pull his hand to her breast. Again she had chosen not to linger on thoughts that threatened to dim her present pleasure.

Complying with her unspoken request, Derek concentrated on rebuilding her arousal. Summer responded eagerly to his skillful attentions, her own fingers dancing across his sleek back. When his hand moved downward again, it was only as far as the damp nest of curls between her thighs, where the bud of her femininity quivered beneath his touch.

Her breath catching in ragged gasps, Summer arched again and again into his palm, her mouth seeking and finding his. He moved between her legs, and she stopped breathing entirely, anxiously awaiting the moment when he would once again make them one.

And then he murmured something that stopped her heart along with her breathing.

“I love you, Summer.”

“What?”

His hand on his chest, Derek stared at the woman who’d leaped straight up to sit on the bed beside him and was staring openmouthed back at him. “God, Summer, you almost gave me a heart attack. Why did you shriek at me like that?”

“What did you say?”

“I said you scared the—”

“No, before that.”

“Oh.” His face relaxed into a smile. “I said I love you.”

“Oh, my God.” She covered her face with her hands.

Though his body still quivered with his arousal, Derek laughed under his breath and reached for her wrists. “I should have known your reaction wouldn’t be the traditional ‘I love you, too, Derek.’ But I had no idea I’d have to peel you off the ceiling once my heart starte

d beating again. Is it that much of a shock, Summer-love?”

Her hands completely limp in his, Summer gaped at him. “A shock? Yes, Derek, I guess you could call it a shock.” She sounded stunned.