Triplets for the Texan (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 5)

In the dining room, she ran her hand along the chair rail. “It’s beautiful, Hutch. The whole place. I can imagine Christmas dinners in this room.”

The dining room was larger than most. It included a working fireplace that would be expensive to insure and maintain, but Hutch looked forward to using it the following winter. “I have some painting to do. And a few small repairs. Hopefully, I’ll be able to move in a couple of weeks from now.”

She stood at the window, looking out into the dark with her back to him. “Why such a big place, Hutch?”

The silence lasted for half a dozen beats. “The usual reasons. I want to have a family someday...a boring, normal life.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You’ll never be boring, trust me. Arrogant, maybe. Bossy, infuriating and egotistical. But not boring.”

“Careful, Simone. Too many compliments and I’ll begin to think you might actually like me.”

She whirled around. “Those weren’t compliments, Dr. Hutchinson.”

He chuckled. “Come on. I’ll show you the kitchen.” Actually, it was the kitchen that had sold him on the house. All the modern conveniences were included, but the hardwood floor remained, as well as the antique oak cabinets. During past renovations, granite countertops had been chosen to complement the color of the wood. Cream appliances, clearly special ordered, finished the cozy look.

Simone put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, Hutch. This is gorgeous.”

Her reaction pleased him more than it should. “I’m glad you like it. My parents raised me to appreciate the old with the new. I made an offer on this place the first time I saw it. I knew it was the one for me.”

Without overthinking it, he put his hands on Simone’s waist and lifted her to sit on the countertop. “I owe you an apology,” he said.

“For what?” Her gaze was wary.

“For thinking it was my right to go with you to the ultrasound. You’re a grown woman. Those babies you carry are your responsibility. I was out of line.” He had realized his mistake after storming out of Simone’s house. As much as he hated to admit it, she had been right to go alone.

“It went well,” Simone said, her soft smile radiant. “Dr. Fetter says I have three viable fetuses. Three babies, Hutch. Can you imagine? Not one, but three. I don’t know whether to be terrified or ecstatic.”

“A little of both would be in order.” He kissed her forehead. “I have a question to ask you.”

Her eyes widened. “What is it?”

“Would you allow me the honor of escorting you to the masquerade ball?” He’d been thinking about it on and off. He realized there was no other man he’d want to see by her side. Even the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth. In his gut, he knew he was cruising for a fall, yet he was helpless to stop himself.

Knowing the right thing and doing it were two entirely different realities.

Simone nodded slowly. “I like that idea. In fact, I was going to ask you, but you beat me to it.” She hooked two fingers in the open neckline of his collar and pulled. “Let’s seal the deal.”

One thing he’d always loved about Simone was her confidence when it came to sex. She had a healthy self-image, and she didn’t play coy games. “I could be persuaded,” he muttered. Already, his body responded to her invitation. He was pretty sure all she had in mind was a kiss. Still, he was good at persuasion.

With a deep sigh that encompassed relief and inevitability, he slid his hands beneath her hair and cupped her face. “You are so damned beautiful, Simone Parker. I think pregnancy becomes you.”

It was the hint of vulnerability in her blue eyes that did him in. It always had. He kissed her slowly, taking his time, demanding a response and receiving more than he asked in return.

Her arms wrapped around his neck in a stranglehold. “Let’s declare a truce,” she pleaded in between frantic kisses. “Until after the babies are born.”

“On what grounds?” He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. She had put him through hell over the years. It was only reasonable that he made her work for this.

“Neighbors. Friendship. Old times.”

“I could live with that. Lift your hips, woman.”

When she obeyed instantly, dangerous lust roared through his veins. He ripped her jeans down her legs and tossed them aside. Her white cotton undies struck him as ridiculously erotic. Pressing two fingertips to her center, he caressed her through the layer of fabric.

Simone gasped, arching her back. He lifted her sweater but didn’t take the time to remove it completely. Then he went still. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

As statements went, that one was sophomoric at best. But his brain had gone all fuzzy. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he repeated, dumbfounded.

Simone cocked her head and gave him an impertinent smile. “It’s late. I was all alone. I had no idea the master of the house was planning to seduce me.”