Butterfly Bayou (Butterfly Bayou 1)

“When you do, can you tell them Doc retired? I’m so tired of explaining I’m not his new nurse.” Her muscles started to relax. “I kind of hate that man. He was lazy. That feels so good.”

He pulled her back against him and loved the way she relaxed as though she trusted him not to let her fall. He moved his hands up to her breasts, cupping them and feeling the way her nipples pebbled against his hand. “I have you right where I want you now, chérie. Away from all the stress of work. I think every time you get too caught up in all the drama that town can make, we’ll come up here and eat and drink and I’ll take you back to some elegant hotel room and I’ll do this. I’ll get my hands on you and I won’t take them off until you’ve screamed my name three or four times.”

“I would never,” she said with a husky chuckle. “I’m a lady, Sheriff.”

“You’re my lady.” Desire thrummed through his system and he realized what he’d forgotten. Damn it. “Lila, baby, I’m going to need to run back downstairs.”

Or he could call downstairs and have someone bring up condoms. Surely they had condoms.

She turned and her head tilted up. Her hands went to his pecs and she ran them up to his shoulders. “Armie, I was joking about the STI tests. I know you had a full physical three months ago. It included a blood panel and testing for just about everything. By the way, we’re going to talk about your cholesterol soon. Have you had any unprotected sex since then?”

“The only person I’ve been with in years is you. My player days were over long ago.” Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

“Like I told you, I’m on the pill and I haven’t had sex with anyone but you for over a year. So don’t make some poor bellman run out and get you condoms. Make love to me, Armie.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He covered her mouth with his and let himself go.* * *• • •

Lila knew she should have gone back to the clinic, but when he offered to take her to dinner, she’d wanted her time with him. She’d wanted to be alone with him.

How was she in so deep with this man in so little time? He wasn’t at all the partner she’d envisioned for herself. She’d thought she needed someone successful, highly educated, motivated.

Turned out, kind and sexy and focused on her trumped all the other stuff. Armie LaVigne was a man who knew how to love, and whoever he ended up with would be one lucky woman.

Why shouldn’t that woman be her?

He kissed her like he needed her. His hands slid down her spine to cup her backside.

He was having an effect on her she hadn’t expected. She’d thought maybe she could enjoy a physical relationship with him, but it was going deeper. So much deeper. She liked him, liked his daughter, loved feeling in some small way like they were starting to become a family. It was dangerous, but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t make smart decisions about this man.

He was addictive. She softened and let his tongue invade her mouth, sliding against hers and causing a fresh rush of arousal to make her head spin. She ran her hands over the strong muscles of his back and enjoyed the sensation of being caught between his warm male form and the heat of the shower. Sometimes the world seemed so cold, but she was safe here.

Maybe that’s what she was truly getting addicted to—feeling safe. Oh, she knew the world wasn’t safe. That damn accident and what had happened with Carrie reinforced what she already knew, but there was a place that was safe. This place she’d found with Armie.

“Tu me rends fou, mon ange.” The words were whispered over her skin as he kissed his way down her throat.

“I want you to teach me. I want to learn how to speak French.” It might help with some of her patients. Some of them spoke a combination of French and English and pure Cajun that she couldn’t completely understand.

His head came up and his lips split in the sexiest grin. “I can teach you. Repeat after me. Armie est le meilleur amant du monde.”

She knew a trap when she heard one. “Am I saying something about you being the sexiest man?”

He shook his head. “The best lover.”

She could learn those words because they were true. She went on her toes and lightly kissed his lips. “Armie est le mellar amour da mande.”

He grinned. “I have no idea what you said, but I love the way you say it.” One hand came back up to find the nape of her neck. “Let’s go slow. Repeat this. Armand est mon homme.”