She ran a finger over the delicate piece.
“Is this an antique?”
“From about nineteen twenty-five. They couldn’t give me an exact date.”
Part of her designer’s heart really, really wanted to know how much it had cost. That and it made her uncomfortable knowing he’d spent a lot on her when they hadn’t been together long. She’d have to trust that he felt she was worth such extravagance.
“So when do we start negotiating our expectations for the relationship?” she asked.
“That depends. If you want to come home with me tonight, we’d have plenty of time to talk.” His tone was hopeful, but not pushy.
“Okay, but only to talk. I’m going to be too sore for anything else tonight,” she admitted.
“Too sore for lying around in bed eating ice cream? Possibly a massage?”
She bit her lip and looked up into his beautiful green eyes.
The man really didn’t play fair.
Chapter Seventeen
Every bone in her body seemed limp.
Will had kept his word—fed her ice cream, talked late into the night. The massage had been a mistake though. There’d been no settling for only touching her with his hands after her lithe, sexy body was thoroughly oiled. Soon, they’d both needed a shower.
Tabitha, Beau’s poor nanny, had to have gotten an earful—especially after Juliet’s forced orgasm torture. He’d taken it easy on her, but by the one-hour mark she’d been ready to sell him her spleen to get him to stop.
Just remembering her sweet whimpers and begging was making him hard all over again.
But no time for that.
He got up and dressed, admiring the spill of Juliet’s blonde hair across his pillow and the curve of her small form under the sheets. There was something deeply satisfying about having her in his bed.
The way her hand was tucked up under her chin was adorable, and the diamonds encircling her wrist made him feel aggressively protective.
She’d said yes. She was wearing it.
Mine.
Although it probably meant more to him than to her, it was a start. She’d understand sooner or later if she stuck around long enough.
If anyone had suggested to him even weeks ago that he would claim another woman as his own, he would have told them they were delusional.
And that it would be Juliet? Ridiculous.
Yet there she was—not at all the woman he’d thought when they’d met. Open-minded, humble, helpful. Even-tempered. Smart. Beautiful. Sexy. Responsive to his dominance.
Basically, she was perfect for him, other than the fact that she didn’t want the responsibility of raising more children. He wasn’t sure what to do about that. As much as he was developing feelings for Juliet, he was madly in love with his little Beau. The baby was first priority.
Reluctantly, he left Juliet and checked on Beau. She was in her crib, but eyed him blearily as he entered her room.
“There’s my baby,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her, or wake Juliet or nanny Tabitha. As she rolled to her stomach and pushed up on her arms, he could see that her wild hair was standing up at all angles again. A devilish smile bloomed on her face, and he laughed, which only made her smile more devilishly. Boy, did this kid have his number.
He loved his quiet morning routine with Beau. He changed her, then brought her downstairs to the kitchen, trying to decide how to handle his plans with company in the house. Should he make Juliet breakfast now, or do it when they came home later? Parent-and-tot swim class was from eight to nine, so Juliet might still be asleep when they got home.
He warmed Beau’s bottle and fed her, surprised—as he seemed to be almost daily—by how fast she was growing. And the kid was a genius. She was hitting all of her milestones, even with the trauma and disruption in her life.
The whole time she took her bottle, she watched him, her huge eyes watching his expression with avid interest as he sang her the nursery rhymes playgroup had reminded him the words to. He couldn’t remember adults playing with him when he was a kid. Mostly it had been him, Grant, and their baby sister, Charlotte, hanging out together. That thought filled him with guilt. If he ever gave Beau a sibling, they wouldn’t be close enough in age to be buddies.