"That is bull."
"Excuse me?" His hand stopped midcomb through her hair.
"You heard what I said." She shook her hair free, shoved him to his back and straddled his h*ps while somehow still holding on to that sheet in a sexy dichotomy of shy temptress. "Don't even think about listing some silly excuses of why we should not be together. Such as how you're ten years older than I am. How you're from another country, and we're opposite personalities—"
"Now that you mention it..."
She kissed him, quick and so damn sweet. "I decided for myself and I chose you. I like to think you would have wanted me, regardless, but I wasn't willing to risk it."
Lucas stilled her h*ps with his hands. Damn, she was a quick study. All the same his brain was still reeling from that moment he'd realized he was her first, and before he could pull back she'd surged up. "If I'd known, I could have been more careful."
He was thirty-four years old, for God's sake. He should have read the signs, been prepared for the possibility at least, and given her more of a night to remember rather than their out-of-control tangle of arms and legs in their mad dash the second they'd entered her front door.
At least he'd made it to her bed rather than taking her against the wall.
"You were perfect. It was perfect."
As if she had anything to compare him to?
Nope, he wasn't feeling any better, and the thought of her finding someone else for comparison made him feel a lot worse. "Marry me."
Huh? Where had those words come from? He almost looked over his shoulder. Except he knew he'd said it. Asked her.
Couldn't wait to hear her answer.
She laughed, tumbling onto her back, holding her sides. And ah hell, seeing her bare br**sts made it tough for him to think. Then yeah, he remembered he'd just proposed, by God, and she was laughing her ass off at him.
That really bit—harder than she had, actually.
He rubbed the small nip bruise on his shoulder. "What's so funny about me proposing?"
She rolled onto her side facing him, the sheet slithering farther and, saints be praised, she didn't seem in the least concerned with modesty right now. "You are so adorable."
What the—? "Adorable?"
"Absolutely—" she kissed the tiny bruise on his shoulder "—adorable." She blew along his neck. "You think because you have 'deflowered' me, you should offer a wedding ring." She licked up his ear. "While I thank you for the adorable offer, again I say to you...you are so full of bull."
He may have been full of bull, and he may have been losing his grip on rational thought since the blood supply to his brain was being seriously compromised by a certain hot woman in his bed....
But he hadn't forgotten his question and how, for five chest-tight seconds, he'd wanted her to say yes...
Chapter 12
Blinking awake, Sara kicked her feet free of the tangled sheets around her legs. Chilly air blasted over her bare skin.
Bare?
Memories of being with Lucas tumbled through her mind. How they'd made love on the floor, then against the wall after she'd woken as he moved her.
She reached across the mattress—the empty mattress—and stifled disappointment. There were a thousand reasons why he could have needed to leave instead of being there to kiss her awake with sleepy slow, good-morning sex.
Yes, a thousand reasons.
Like checking on Lucia.
Sara bolted upright in bed. What kind of mother was she? She jerked to look at the clock. She'd actually only been away from her daughter for five and a half hours total, with Lucas checking on her and likely with her now, but guilt still stung. She wasn't used to sharing parenting responsibilities.
Springing to her feet, she yanked on her borrowed clothes—jogging shorts, a loose T-shirt and flip-flops. She reached for the door just as the knob twisted. Stumbling back, she grabbed a chair for balance.