A part of her had known, she thought as she took his hand. Just because they hadn’t acknowledged the attraction didn’t mean it hadn’t always been there.
She took his hand and moved a step backward toward the big bed. Looking up at him through her lashes, she smiled. “I’m very happy to hear that.”
She was already tugging at the hem of his sweater. Judging from touch alone, those clothes hid a seriously fine body. Plus, there’d been that brief glimpse of a chiseled chest the day he’d changed the light bulb. Now she was eager to explore it more closely. His hands joined hers where she worked at the buttons of his shirt, and she left him to finish while she shed her boots.
They tossed their clothes aside quickly as impatience took over. But she had the presence of mind to glimpse at his body as he revealed it. She took in the strong planes of his back and chest and the rock-hard muscles of his thighs. He stopped at a pair of boxers, and she was denied the full view she anticipated. Before she could remove her underwear he stepped forward and took her in his arms, tumbling her onto the pillows, his mouth on hers as their limbs tangled. He was so warm. Solid. Being in his arms was like being wrapped in armor. She felt safe. Protected. It was a novel feeling for someone who’d spent her whole life taking care of herself and taking care of others. Quite a seductive sensation in itself—not to mention how very good he felt on top of her.
For a man who spent so much time working on computers, Cole McKellar kept himself in excellent physical condition. And he proved very quickly that he knew exactly what to do with that great body.
It was no surprise to her at all that he was a thorough and unselfish lover, two adjectives that seemed the perfect description of the man she’d come to know during the past year. Now that they were in the bed, he took his time, lingering and savoring as he explored, caressed, tantalized, then unhurriedly moved on. He was so gentle at first, so obviously intent not to cause her discomfort. She was the one who lost patience, growling beneath her breath and tugging at him until he got the message with a low, willing laugh.
He stripped her bra, his hands moving more eagerly, less carefully now over her breasts as he revealed them. Then he slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slipped off her panties, dragging his fingers down her legs as he pulled them off. When he returned to hover over her, she wasted no more time. To convince him she was neither fragile nor shy, she matched his kiss hungrily, letting her tongue tangle with his. She slipped one leg around him and in one smooth motion his body merged with hers. Her breath escaped in a gasp of pleasure, echoed by Cole’s deep groan. He brought her other leg around him and went even deeper, and she welcomed him into her. Moving with him in an age-old rhythm, she built inexorably toward a powerful climax, one so intense that she could not think or speak or even moan. Just feel.
He followed her immediately, and from the contented groan he gave right before his release, she reasoned he felt the same.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Stevie,” she heard him murmur some time later, after he’d recovered enough breath to speak. Not quite to the point of speech, herself, she merely smiled sleepily and nestled contentedly into his bare shoulder.
* * *
Cole lay awake for some time after Stevie slept. He hadn’t yet turned off the small lamp in the sitting area, and there was just enough light in the room for him to see her sprawled bonelessly beside him in the big bed, clutching her pillow into a ball with both arms. Her blond curls tumbled riotously around her shoulders, partially hiding her face, though he could see that her lips were parted in what he thought looked like a soft little smile. She looked sated and utterly relaxed. Though he hadn’t been presumptuous enough to predict the evening would end this way, it had come as no surprise to him to discover that, along with her many other attributes and eccentricities, Stevie was a passionate and sensual woman.
In those fantasies that had haunted his nights since he’d gotten to know Stevie, he’d always imagined that making love with her would be an adventure. Hard as it was to believe, the reality had been even more spectacular. Fact was, just looking at her sleeping now made him harden again, already impatient to see if it would be just as mind-blowing the next time. He’d never met anyone quite like Stevie. Being on the receiving end of her enthusiastic passion was decidedly flattering. A heady ego boost for an innately introverted computer nerd. He couldn’t help but smile.
A guy could spend a lifetime getting to know and appreciate all the facets of Stevie. He lifted his left hand, and the band on his finger gleamed softly in the dim light. He wasn’t at all sorry he’d signed up for this mission. He just hoped he could keep up with her and make sure she never regretted accepting his proposal.
He wasn’t her usual artistic type. He was no poet. Couldn’t play a musical instrument. Sang like a bullfrog. Couldn’t draw a stick figure. He had no expectations of sweeping Stevie off her feet. But he liked the image he’d formed of their future together, the one she’d described for him earlier—coming home from his business trips to a house filled with warmth and light, to the welcome of a woman who rarely stopped chattering and whose laughter was infectious. To a child’s hugs and what-did-you-bring-mes?
He would do his best to make Stevie happy with what he had to offer in return for the family he’d thought he’d never have. He’d be there for her, take care of her even when she didn’t know she needed it. That was what he did.
As for what he would receive in return . . . He brushed a light kiss against her warm, damp cheek, certain he’d gotten the best of this bargain. In addition to the cozy family home he’d just envisioned, he had more nights in bed with Stevie to look forward to. Considering how spectacular their first time had been, he was eagerly anticipating the next. He had a feeling he had just begun to explore all the fascinating facets of this woman who was now his wife.
* * *
After a surprisingly sound night’s sleep, Stevie woke slowly, stretching and yawning before she opened her eyes to find Cole watching her with a smile. A little gasp escaped her before her sleep-clouded mind cleared enough to remind her of why he was there.
He reached out to touch her arm. “That’s twice in the past week I’ve startled you out of sleep. I feel as though I should apologize again.”
Rubbing her eyes, she laughed ruefully. “It’s not your fault. I just tend to wake up disoriented.”
“I’ll keep that in mind in the future,” he murmured.
She blinked a few times at the reminder of a future that included him now. “Oh, my gosh!”
His left eyebrow rose. “What?”
Struggling to sit up, she pushed at her tangled hair with a rueful little laugh. “Like I said, I wake up disoriented. I just remembered we got married yesterday.”
Rising onto his elbow, he looked at her with both brows lifted now. A grin tugged tentatively at the corners of his lips, though he looked as if he wasn’t sure whether he should laugh. “I’m not surprised you’re befuddled. It all happened pretty fast.”
She smiled to show him she recognized the humor in her admission. “You could say that again. Thursday morning I woke up thinking I’d be a single mom and by Friday afternoon I was a married woman. I mean, I’ve acted on impulse more than a few times in my life, but—oh, my gosh.”
He did chuckle then. “You think it’s hard for you to believe? Even after I’d spent several days considering the idea, I didn’t really expect to be married within twenty-four hours of proposing. It just sort of happened. I’m not calling it an impulse, though. More like a plan of action expedited for maximum benefit.”
Laughing, she cupped his face in her hands and murmured against his lips, “I just love it when you talk all analyst-y.”
“I’m not sure that’s a—”