The Heart Surgeon's Secret Son

Had she been speaking in physical terms? Or metaphorically? Did she want more than just the fabulous sex they’d shared?

He hoped so, because no way was he letting her walk away at the end of the week. Tomorrow.

He’d let her slip from his life once. All that had given him was fifteen years of unfavorably comparing every woman he’d met to her.

This time, if she tried, he wouldn’t let her push him away. Not without a fight.

He should have fought for her a long time ago, but he’d been eighteen. What had he known at the time about life and how precious having someone you cared about at your side was?

Remembering how he’d loved her, he decided maybe he’d known more than he was giving himself credit for. What he hadn’t known was how wrong he’d been to let her move on to some other guy. It should have been him she’d married, his child she’d given birth to.

He leaned forward, brushed his nose against her long blond tresses and breathed in her scent, filling his heart and mind with the fragrance that was solely Kimberly.

His body stirred, hardening at just that single stimulus. Amazing how something so simple could bring him from zero to sixty in a second when other women had failed to move him for so long.

Because he wanted more.

He wanted a relationship and commitment.

He wanted Kimberly.

Her naked body was spooned against his in an enticing fashion. Dropping soft kisses against the back of her neck, he snaked his hand out to finger her breasts, slowly caressing, slowly waking her body to the morning and to him.

She moaned softly, shifting against his body. Rousing, she twisted and fluttered her lashes. Her hair was tousled sexily about her face and a sleepy, unsure smile played on her lips.

“You’re up.”

“Literally.”

Pink tinged her cheeks.

“Daniel,” she scolded, the uneasiness in her eyes replaced with delighted mischief, and he laughed, loving it that he’d made her smile, given her happiness.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

No matter how long he’d denied it, Kimberly was his dream woman.

“Oh, Daniel.” Her smile fading, she inhaled audibly. “What have we done?”

Not what he wanted to hear.

“We need to slow down. We should talk before anything else happens between us.” She winced. “We should have talked before anything happened last night.”

“We can talk later.” Because he really didn’t want her overanalyzing everything that had happened between them during the past twenty-four hours.

“I’m serious.” She pushed against his chest, making him listen. “I have to tell you something.”

He sighed. Was it wrong that he just wanted to feel what was between them and not put it into words? Words would only mar the perfection of when their bodies connected, and didn’t actions speak louder than words anyway?

“If you insist on talking, let’s shower and have breakfast first.” He knew he sounded grumpy, but he already knew what he needed to know.

They were starting over and he’d convince her that being together was right.

“But first I want a good-morning kiss.” He smacked his lips to hers in a playful kiss, determined to keep the mood light between them. “Ah, come on. You can do better than that,” he teased when she resisted.

“Daniel!” She swatted at him, but then he went for another kiss and another and her hands quit their flapping and welcomed him.

One touch led to another and then another until they were clamoring for each other and his body strained for release.