“Did I talk down to you?” he asked blithely.
“You’re doing it now.” She copied his humorless smile.
He made a noise of false regret and ambled closer. “I can’t help it if you’re shorter than I am.”
He wore his customary tailored pants and a crisp button shirt, sans tie, with the collar open at his throat. He also wore his particular brand of superiority that she found enormously exciting. He’d inherited that authority from his father, same as Val, but Niko hadn’t had any humbleness in him and Val’s conceit was too self-aware. Javiero’s confidence was earned. He hadn’t made his fortune by gambling with other people’s money in the stock market or applying his good looks to an ad campaign for cologne. He built things.
The aura of cool assurance that surrounded Javiero enveloped her as he came closer. His steady gaze dared her to look away, and part of her wanted to. It was far too revealing to let him read her expression and the effect he had on her. He had always had this ability to disconcert her and she feared he always would. But even though holding his gaze was like dropping all the defenses she possessed, allowing him to see her flaws and broken dreams and cheap foundation, she also knew she couldn’t flinch from him, not without losing whatever respect he had for her.
She compromised by studying his face the way she had allowed herself only once, when she’d sleepily opened her eyes and found him dozing with repletion beside her.
Javiero was not classically handsome. His face had held character marks before the attack. He had a bump in his nose and a strong brow and a wide jaw. His rugged features weren’t refined. They were rough-hewn and all the more mesmerizing for having been scored by that cat.
“Still attracted?” It was a light taunt, but she saw the tension that invaded behind his indifference. He was bracing for criticism or rejection.
She couldn’t lie. She had to tell him the truth even though it made her feel as though she had stepped off a cliff blindfolded and trusted him to catch her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He touched her chin, tilting her mouth up a fraction while he looked from her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes.
“I’d say that’s a point in favor of marriage, wouldn’t you?”
Had she thought about spending her life in his bed? Only a million times and well before she’d carried his baby.
Those fairy tales were supposed to stay in a book on a shelf deep in her personal library, though. For one moment, however, she opened those pages, peeked and glimpsed them falling in love and making a life together.
Whatever dreams softened her expression seemed to have made up his mind. He dipped his head.
She had wanted this, she acknowledged as his mouth covered hers. She had hated herself for walking away nine months ago. Or, rather, she had hated that she had had no choice but to do so.
For every waking minute of every day since, she had wanted to return to this moment. To one more kiss. To see what might have been.
He played his lips smoothly across hers. It was a lazy return to a place that was familiar. He settled with ownership, with a long, leisurely taste that made her sigh in welcome. Her toes curled and her hands splayed across his stomach, feeling his abs tighten.
He rocked his mouth over hers with more purpose, deepening the kiss by degrees until she was sliding closer, into the sensual pool he conjured so effortlessly.
His arms went around her and it was like coming home. She melted, feeling the stir of his firming flesh against her middle while her arms climbed to curl behind his neck. She moaned with pleasure and skimmed one hand into his hair.
Her finger caught against the band on his eye patch, not dislodging it, but startling them both.
He jerked his head up and she dropped her hand to his shoulder.
The heat of their kiss dissipated, leaving a chill that grew more strained by the second.
She was dazed, still in his arms, not immediately processing his, “Where’s the nurse?” He set her back a step.
That day nine months ago, he had let the kiss go on until she hadn’t had a rational thought in her head. He’d broken it only to say in a smoky voice, I’m going to my room for a cold shower. Or a condom, if you’d like to join me?
She had hardly debated at all before she’d followed.
Today she wasn’t so aroused she couldn’t think straight, but she did cling to his arm as she tried to maintain her balance and catch up to his abrupt mood switch.
“I...um...” She glanced around, then remembered. “I sent her to buy some iron tablets if she’s that concerned I bring my levels up.”
“That’s exactly the sort of thing she should be concerned about. Your doctor said you have to take it easy this week. And no lovemaking for six,” he reminded her pointedly.
Oh, right. That.
“That wasn’t—” She stopped to clear a huskiness from her throat only to discover she didn’t know how to excuse their kiss. She decided not to try. “Well, there’s no point in discussing marriage until we pass that six-week mark, then. Is there?” She spoke with false cheer and dug into the bags on the chair, ducking her head to hide her disconcerted blush.
“Having sex is not the reason I want to marry you, Scarlett. The physical attraction between us is simply nice to have.”
“No kidding. If our lovemaking had meant anything more to you than ‘nice to have,’ you would have shown up to propose long before today.”
“I asked you to stay that day,” he reminded while
