Raising the Stakes

His smile tilted. “Takes a lot of determination, I’ll bet.”

“A thick skin, is what it takes. You catch people looking at you when you do something dumb, and you want to just shut your eyes and pretend you’re not there.” She sighed. “You were joking, but I really did have to learn which fork to use. Which spoon. I even had to learn how to dress.”

Gray ran his hand down her back, cupped her bottom. “As far as I can see,” he said, his voice a little husky, “you dress just fine.”

“I’m serious. When I got my first job…” Her breath caught. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking what you’re wearing. Mmm. Feels smooth. Silky.”

“Gray.”

Her voice was breathy; he loved the sound of it, the way it changed when he touched her, like now.

“What?”

“I didn’t know… I never thought a man would touch a woman where—where… Gray. Oh God, Gray…”

“I like to touch you there.” He moved down on the bed, kissed her breasts, her belly, traced the faint line from her navel to the soft curls below it with the tip of his tongue. “I like to look at you there, too,” he whispered, slipping his hands under her thighs, lifting her, opening her to him.

“No. Gray, you can’t—”

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart. Every part of you. Your face. Your breasts. This. This perfect blossom, with such soft petals and this hidden within it…”

She moaned as he touched her. He watched her eyes go blind, felt the answering tug of his own need shoot through his body. He whispered her name, put his mouth where his hand had been, and Dawn cried out in shock. He kissed her. Nipped her. Tongued her until she forgot everything but him and the night…and felt only how deeply she’d fallen in love.

* * *

The pale gray of early morning was creeping past the edges of the curtains when Gray awoke. Dawn lay sprawled half across him, her head on his chest, her hand splayed over his heart.

I love her, he thought, and the realization came so easily, so joyously, that he smiled.

He kissed her temple, curved his arm more closely around her, and stared at the ceiling. Maybe it was a good thing that he hadn’t blurted out the truth during the night, not just because of how she’d have reacted but because he needed time to put together a plan. Actually he’d started roughing one out while Dawn slept in his arms after the last time they’d made love.

He knew she was convinced that keeping her child’s existence a secret was the only thing that would save him from Harman. Gray’s mouth thinned. She was probably right. The bastard would never stop searching, especially now that he thought there was money involved. But things were different now. He was in her life.

He would stop Kitteridge, and he didn’t give a damn if he did it legally or not.

Because the law was his specialty, he’d try that first, all the tricks of the trade that lay buried in the leather-bound volumes in the law library back in his New York offices. And if those tricks weren’t enough, he had other resources, clients who knew how to change the minds of even the most determined men.

Whatever it took, Gray thought grimly, Kitteridge was going to be part of the past.

“Gray?” Dawn’s voice was thick with sleep. “Wha’ time issit?”

“Shh.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her hair. “It’s early, baby. Too early to get up.”

“Mmm.” She rolled away from him, flopped over and sprawled out on her belly. Seconds later, her breathing was deep and slow again.

Gray smiled. A couple of hours ago, she’d told him she always got up early. “I’ll try not to wake you,” she’d said through a giant yawn.

He’d drawn her close into his arms. “Call in and tell them you’re taking the day off.”

“Uh-uh. Can’t. Promised I’d go in at noon and take over for Becky.”

“Then you don’t have to get up early.”

“Told you, I always get up early.”

Another yawn. He’d grinned, sure he’d heard her jaw creak. “Good. We can get up early and fool around.”