“So whenever you’re ready...” His blue gaze was steady on her, one dark curl blown nearly vertical in the breeze.

Her heart sped. “Yes?”

“You can tell me what’s really wrong.”

“Oh.” Allie put down her sandwich, lowered her eyes. “I guess the job thing wasn’t that convincing.”

“Nope.” The syllable was clipped.

“I’m sorry.” She pushed back from the table, unable to stand its confinement, taking her half-finished wine with her, and stood at the railing, thinking of the last two times she stood there, in fabulous silk and in sexy sequins. How different from tonight.

Jonas came to stand next to her. He put an arm around her, then let it drop. The message was clear. He wasn’t touching her until he knew what was on her mind. She didn’t blame him. “The thing is...”

“Go on.”

She made a noise of exasperation and turned to face him. “I don’t even know what the thing is.”

“Try me. Whatever comes to mind.”

“Okay.” She drank more wine, aware that was probably a poor idea. “First, I don’t know what’s going on here with you and me, whether it’s a good idea or not, whether it will work or not, what it even is.”

“But...” He touched her shoulder, a slight caress. “We don’t know each other well enough to pin any of that down yet.”

“Right. Right.” Okay, there went that excuse. “So then I don’t know what will happen going forward. Do we date? Long distance? Which city? And how do we—”

“Allie.”

“What?” Her frustration came out in the word.

He chuckled, looking gorgeous, his eyes full of amusement at her expense, as he took her wine away and balanced it on the railing.

“What is so funny?”

In answer he drew her close and kissed her the way he hadn’t yet this time, not at the bus station with a crowd around them, not when they arrived and she was being so skittish, but the way he had when he’d gathered her in his arms right here at this railing after he’d made love to Cleopatra, and she thought it was the last time.

Her irritation melted. Her heart slowed, her muscles relaxed. She shut down her brain and responded to him with her body.

That was better. Much better. This could be okay. If they stayed in bed all weekend long doing what they did best, and she could keep from thinking and feeling too much, that was all she needed.

“Jonas.” She tipped her head to allow him better access to her neck. “I need to go up to the attic.”

“Why?” He found the perfect spot, where her shoulder ended and neck began, and brushed his lips across her skin.

“Page thirty-five,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t believe what Josephine—”

“Allie.” He lifted his head, took her by the shoulders. “I don’t want to make love to my great-grandmother. I want to make love to you.”

She blinked, laughed uneasily. “Well yes, but—”

“No costume. Just you and me upstairs together. In my bed.”

Allie’s heart started again its slow, steady thump of anxiety. “Just us.”

“Uh.” He looked justifiably disbelieving. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” She pressed her hands to her temples. “I sound like an idiot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well maybe not an idiot. A ditz anyway.”

“You said it.”

She frowned at him. “Seriously, Jonas, you can contradict me anytime.”

“Nope.” He found her hand and drew her toward the cottage door. “Don’t need to. You’re doing fine.”

“It’s just that I’d envisioned the whole thing.” She resisted his pull, but only slightly. “The nightgown you saw me in...”

“No nightgown.” He led her across to the staircase.

“And then underneath, all she has on is this frilly little—”

“No frilly.” He started climbing the stairs. “No little.”

Allie started giggling. “But the shoes!”

“No shoes.” In the bedroom he practically dragged her across the room.

“Jonas! You’d like the hat!”

“No.” He swung her up in his arms and dumped her onto the mattress. “Hat.”

She barely got control of her laughter. “Okay, okay.”

“Clothes.” He pointed to hers. “Off.”

“Yes, sir.” Allie sat up, watching him pull off his shirt, watching that magnificent chest emerge. She pulled off her top, one of her favorites, short-cropped with wildly colorful vertical stripes.

“Those, too.” He pointed to her white capris, unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down, rescuing a condom from the back pocket.

Tags: Isabel Sharpe Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net