Take Me (Take Me 1)

Kate’s body jolted, exhilaration rocketing through her.

“Jude!”

He chuckled, though it was a strained sound. “You’re irresistible, Kate.”

“And you’re too naughty for words.”

“Ah, sweetheart… I’m just getting started.”

Jude hadn’t been kidding. Not by any stretch.

He’d lit her brighter, had made her wetter, had had her whimpering and moaning until she’d been on the verge of orgasm. Then he’d eased into her from behind—so gradually, enticingly, she’d instantly fallen apart when he’d been fully ensconced…and all Kate could think about was how fabulously emancipating this sexual indulgence truly was.

Later, she slept better than she had in years. And was awake and shifting into high-gear as the sun was rising—while Jude slept soundly next to the space she stealthily vacated.

His steady snoring filled the room as she slipped from the bed and crept to the bathroom. She showered and then contacted the in-suite butler via the provided iPad and requested clothing from the gift shop for both her and Jude. She then applied some light makeup from the supply in her bag and was sipping her second cup of coffee when Jude strutted into the sitting room, so gloriously naked, Kate could barely breathe.

“’Morning,” he said in a sleepy tone that set all of her nerve endings ablaze. “Been up long?”

She glanced down at the robe she wore while awaiting the golf shirt and designer capris she’d ordered. Gazing at him again, she said, “Long enough, I suppose. Breakfast should arrive any moment. Along with some pants and a polo for you. All in black. Figured you’d appreciate that.” She tossed him a sassy smile.

Jude chuckled. “You’re a morning person, I see. All bright-eyed and sunshiny.”

“I’m guessing that’s a word you’ve never used before.”

“You guess correctly. Though…you epitomize it. Really, Kate… You are stunning.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, then scratched absently at the hint of dark stubble on his jaw. Which she found destructively captivating. So much so, she completely forgot about the delicate china in her hand.

When a few drops of the bold French roast sloshed over the rim and trickled down the side, Jude’s brow slowly crooked.

Kate returned the cup to its saucer. Clutching her hands in her lap, both trembling slightly over Jude’s nearness—and the fact he was superbly naked—she strove for a more composed demeanor.

“Our butler sent our evening-wear to the dry cleaner. Your suit will be delivered to your office,” she informed him. “With new buttons, of course.”

“How thoughtful of you. Though…” The brow remained arched—almost comically now. “You felt the need to cover up?” His gaze swiftly canvased the room—devoid of any staff. It was just the two of them.

She reached for her coffee and sipped. Then said, “I do have a couple of appointments today. I need to prepare—”

“Mentally,” Jude commented with a nod. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

“We’re both professionals, Kate. And while I have experienced frustration over your ability to simply discount the attraction between—”

“Jude.” She set her cup aside and stood. She solemnly said, “There has been nothing simple between us. From the very beginning, nothing has been simple.”

His teeth clenched.

She continued. “I haven’t discounted the undercurrent riding the emotional intensity. I confessed to as much last night. If you’ll just consider that I have a professional obligation to focus specifically on what’s most disturbing to you, what’s affecting your behavioral health—”

“Kate.” He gave a sharp shake of his head. “I get all of that. Come on. For fuck’s sake…” He raised his hands in surrender. “Maybe I feel a bit protective of your behavioral health, in turn.” His tone lightened a touch, helping to diffuse the sudden strain between them as he mused, “You’re always working.” He said this in a commiserate way, not a derogatory one. “I understand, Kate. What you told me last night…”

He crossed the room, snatched up the pale-gold chenille throw draped over the corner of the sofa Kate had sat on and slung it around his hips. Giving her the tiniest bit of a reprieve from the mesmerizing sight of him.

“You have a smart strategic plan,” he added. “I admire that.” His expression morphed into a contrite one as he told her, “I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about you, Kate.”

Her heart fluttered.