He thought about the possibility of her being preg nant with his child, but as much as the idea of having a baby with Paige appealed to him, that particular wisl was a selfish one on his part. A child would give him a stronger tie to Paige, a bond that would last forever, ye he knew she might resent being thrust into a relation ship with him-one she clearly didn’t want.

Feeling restless, and frustrated at his inability to control the future, he left the bed and went to the only win dow in the room, pushing aside the heavy drapes a few inches. The first fringes of dawn were spreading acros the sky, promising a warm, sunny Saturday. He hate to waste such a perfect day inside this awful mote room or at the boutique. And he knew without a doub Paige wasn’t mentally ready to return to the bead house.

The past few weeks had been hell for Paige, and he wanted to offer her a small slice of heaven to offset the burdens she’d had to bear. He wanted to see the luste in her eyes again, wanted to hear her laughter, and would sell his soul to see one of her genuine, dazzling smiles.

He needed that. So did she. And he was confident a quick, weekend getaway would restore both of their spirits and put them in a better frame of mind for what lay ahead. Maybe his idea might work to his favor, too, and prove to Paige that marriage to a cop wasn’t always heartache.

Spying a small doughnut shop across the street, he smiled, an idea forming. He needed to contact Reynolds, apprise him of his plans and get his approval. Since he didn’t want to use the phone in the room and possibly wake Paige when she needed the rest, he figured he could call Reynolds on his cell phone as he walked the short distance to get him and Paige breakfast-and still keep an eye on their motel room.

Since he’d been unable to sleep, he’d showered and changed into jeans and a collared knit shirt earlier. Securing his Beretta into his holster, he put on his lightweight sports coat and slipped quietly from the room, making sure the door was locked behind him.

When he returned ten minutes later, Paige was curled up on her side facing the door, but still asleep. Now that his plans were in motion, and he had Reynolds’s wholehearted consent, he was anxious for them to be on their way.

Setting the foam cup of freshly brewed coffee on the nightstand in between the two beds, along with a warm, fragrant cinnamon-streusel muffin, he hunkered down in front of Paige and gently blew the scented curls of steam her way.

She drew a deep breath, and her nostrils flared.

Grinning, he sent another aromatic draft her way.

She moaned, the sound low and appreciative.

One more time, and her eyes fluttered open, unfocused, but beautiful nonetheless.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured.

“It was, until you woke me up,” she groused. Then a slow smile curved her mouth and she stretched lan guidly, making his body quicken. “I was having a wonderful dream.”

He chuckled warmly, remembering his earlier erotic thoughts. “Was I in it?” he dared to ask.

A flush deepened the rosy hue of her complexion “Maybe.” Her voice held husky nuances, whether a re- sidual of sleep or arousal, he wasn’t sure.

She might have been fuming mad at him last night and gone to bed upset, but this morning there was no trace of bitterness. Admittedly, her anger never lasted long with him. They argued and moved on. She didn’t hold grudges like some women, didn’t punish by allowing her animosity to develop into a cold attitude that lasted for days.

He figured her tirade had been a long-overdue release, and a therapeutic one at that. A person could only take so much pressure before they blew, and he suspected yesterday’s events had pushed Paige to he limit. This morning, however, she appeared refreshed and receptive, though he didn’t doubt for a moment that the case wasn’t far from her mind.

Her light mood encouraged him, and he took advantage of it. “Maybe I could persuade you to forgive me for interrupting such a great dream.” Standing, he readjusted her pillows against the headboard and motioned for her to sit up, which she did, dragging the sheet with her to cover up her bare legs. He found her sudden bout of modesty endearing, especially since he’d already indulged in eyeing every inch of her. “] went across the street and got us coffee and fresh-baked muffins.”

She pushed her hair out of her face and considered his bribe. A teasing gleam brightened her green eyes, giving him a glimpse of the fun-loving Paige he’d met three years ago. “You’d take advantage of a woman’s weaknesses that way?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to her hip, he handed her one of the cups of coffee. “Just yours,” he admitted, enjoying their flirtatious banter. His hopes for a relaxing, pleasant weekend soared.

She wrapped her fingers around the warmth and took a sip of the fragrant brew. “Umm…” She closed her eyes briefly, savoring the rich flavor. “This is wonderful.”

He smiled at her blissful expression. “So is the muffin.” He broke off a piece of the spiced cake topped with sweet, crunchy streusel and held it to her lips. “Try a bite.”

She hesitated, the intimacy of the situation swirling between them. Then, as if accepting his unspoken challenge, she allowed him to feed her the muffin. He purposely touched his fingers to her lips, dragged his thumb along the corner of her mouth to catch a crumb. Awareness flared in her eyes, coiled deep in his belly, and spurred a reckless desire he didn’t bother to curb. Not here. Not now.

Not anymore.

Eyes locked, he slid his hand around to the back of her neck and slowly dipped his head toward hers. His thumb nudged her chin up as his mouth descended. To his extreme pleasure, she didn’t protest his bold move.

Finally reaching his destination, he ran the tip of his tongue over her lips, flicking teasingly. Her lashes fluttered closed and her lips parted on a soft sigh of surrender that touched him on a dozen different levels. She was so open. So giving. So trusting.

The last humbled him, because he knew she’d had little reason to trust lately.

He settled his mouth more fully over hers and deepened the kiss until his tongue tangled with hers. She tasted sweet and warm, like cinnamon and coffee, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

Never would.

A moan purred in her throat, and he thought of all the things he’d imagined doing to her earlier, entertained the tempting idea of easing her down onto the mattress and spending the entire day making love to her. That was his libido talking, because at the moment he was hard and aching. Rationally, he knew right now she needed more than physical intimacy. After yesterday, he was more concerned about her emotional stability, and he wouldn’t risk more confusion. The next time they made love, he wanted it to be for keeps.

He ended the kiss, slowly dragging his lips from hers.

Wide, luminous eyes stared at him. “What was that for?” She wasn’t upset, just curious.

“The hell of it,” he replied impulsively. “Because I wanted to. Because you wanted me to. What other reason do I need?”

A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “You’re awfully presumptuous.”

He gave a deceptively casual shrug. “I’ve got absolutely nothing to lose.”

That truth hung between them, until she finally looked away and plucked absently at the sheet with her fingers. Just as he’d expected, she was going to avoid the personal issues between them. He’d let her be. For now.

Grabbing his own cup of coffee, he took a drink, letting the hot liquid slide down his throat and warm his elly. “So, how are you feeling?” he asked, putting their conversation on a safer track.

She picked at the muffin, and tossed a morsel into her mouth. “Compared to what?”

“To last night.”

“Emotionally drained,” she said, admitting what he already knew.

He nodded, and wanting to give her something Anthony never had-an apology-he said very quietly, “I’m sorry for losing my temper last night, and for the incident with the gun.”

“Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for not listening to your orders.” A lopsided smile touched her mouth, diminishing some of the shadows in her gaze. “I think we both were pretty upset after what happened at the beach house, for different reasons.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and let it remain at that.

She brushed at the crumbs that had fallen on her T-shirt, and he forcefully pulled his gaze from the way her taut nipples pressed against the soft cotton. He turned, resting his thigh on the bed. The slight shift in position loosened the snug fit of his jeans in a particular region. “Are you up for a little adventure?”

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