His Ultimate Temptation. Susan Crosby

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СКАЧАТЬ Amazing what a little sleep will do. Ben, if you really want to help, you can quit hanging out watching my every move. It’s hard enough cooking for a master chef. With you critiquing—”

      “I wasn’t critiquing. I’m still in shock.”

      “Life goes on, doesn’t it?” She stirred the eggs. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get your vacation started. I’ll clean up when we’re done, then hit the road.”

      “I think you should stay, Les.”

      She frowned at him. “I can’t do that. Where would you and Erin go at this late date?”

      “Nowhere. I mean, I think we shouldn’t lie to Erin or disappoint her. We’ve always put her first. We can do this for her, too.”

      She held the spatula motionless in her hand as her gaze connected with his. “Are you sure?”

      He nodded.

      Looking away she started pushing the mixture around the pan again. “I don’t know what to say.”

      “Merry Christmas Eve.” Her timing impeccable as predicted, Erin wandered into the kitchen, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

      “Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?” Ben asked.

      “Of course she did. She had all the covers,” Leslie said. “You are a real blanket hog, my darling daughter.”

      Leslie watched Erin snuggle against her father. It had been all she could do not to kiss him good morning when she’d turned and seen him propped against the door, like something out of her dreams. And now, his offer to stay.

      She gave him her answer in her next words, but didn’t look to see his reaction. “I think I’ll have to sleep on the couch tonight, instead.”

      “Why don’t you just sleep with Dad? He probably doesn’t hog the covers. He’s used to sharing.”

      Leslie’s gaze locked with Ben’s for five long seconds. Two pictures fought for control in her mind—Ben sleeping with another woman while Erin was staying overnight, which she didn’t believe he did. And the other, more vivid image—her sharing his bed again. She wondered whether Erin’s suggestion was as innocent as her expression indicated. Ben’s expression, on the other hand, was far from innocent.

      “The couch will be fine,” Leslie said finally, dumping the contents of the frying pan into a serving dish. “Breakfast is ready. Take a seat. Both of you.”

      “But, Mom, I heard you tell Aunt Mimi that you’d give anything if you could sleep with Dad one more time. Now you can.”

      Leslie didn’t dare look at Ben, who hadn’t budged. She could feel the heat of his gaze burn through her clothes, the memory alone teasing her nipples instantly taut, achingly hard, needing his mouth there to take the ache away. Liquid heat gathered low in her abdomen from remembering his touch, remembering the feel of him joining with her, that full, wonderful, indescribable sensation that started slow, built fast and then took its time reaching a satisfying peak after hovering near the edge of danger for a long, long time. His big body blanketing hers, his hands cupping her rear, pulling her closer. His thrusts strong and sure.

      He took a step toward her.

      “Sit...down,” she said, her words harsh and curt. She plopped serving dishes in the middle of the table, then retreated to the bedroom, feeling stripped naked and vulnerable. And aroused. Why couldn’t she feel this way with

      Alex? Why didn’t his kisses make her want to throw caution to the wind, scream her pleasure to the rooftops, cherish his body until he did, too.

      Ben. It was always Ben. Sex between them had been phenomenal, even their first time, the night they graduated from high school. They’d told their parents they were going to Santa Cruz beach for an all-night grad party, but had already arranged for a hotel room instead. They’d spent the night exploring each other’s bodies, granting themselves the freedom to go all the way after years of increasingly intimate kisses and caresses had brought them to a point they couldn’t deny any longer. It had been an incredible night, too, sweet and overwhelming at the same time. And the sex had only improved since then, the intimacy complete.

      She’d figured it would be like that forever. Just them. No one else. Ever. Well, they’d almost had forever. But he’d been with other women since their divorce, she was sure. Living with that knowledge was painful.

      A light tap on the bedroom door snapped her into the present. She took a couple long strides and pulled open the door.

      “You all right?” he asked, his face a mask of unreadable expression.

      Why couldn’t she look at him and know his thoughts any longer?

      At that moment she hated him. Hated that he could still turn her inside out and upside down. No one should have that kind of power over another person.

      The hate faded as fast as it had come, and she settled for an honest answer. “No, Ben. I’m not all right. I haven’t been all right for a long time. And every time I think I’m on the right track, something shoves me off. I’m tired of living like this.”

      “If I’d known it was going to be this hard, I wouldn’t have—”

      “I know.”

      “We’re stuck now, aren’t we? Erin knows you’re staying. We can’t change it.”

      Weary, Leslie rubbed her forehead, picturing her daughter’s face. Her sparkling eyes. The freckles dusting her nose and cheeks. The wide grin and bubbly exuberance.

      Okay. I can do this, Leslie thought. She wouldn’t be alone with Ben. Erin was here, too. Temptation tempered by the presence of a child. It could work. It would work.

      It had to.

      “Just don’t look at me like you did in the kitchen, okay?” she said. “Keep your distance, and I’ll keep mine. Somehow we’ll get through this.”

      When they returned to the dining room, Erin’s gaze slid from one parent to the other. Her hands were locked together in her lap; her plate was empty. “Are you mad, Mom?”

      Leslie kissed the top of her head as she walked by, then took a seat and picked up the nearest serving bowl. “I’m all right.” She smiled. “Your dad was shocked that I could cook. You hadn’t told him you were giving me lessons.”

      Erin frowned. “That’s always been the deal. I don’t talk to Dad about you, and I don’t talk to you about Dad.”

      What a balancing act Erin performed. In trying to shield her from any potential conflict between them, she and Ben had also put her in the difficult position of not talking about the good times they had together.

      She glanced at Ben, who was obviously contemplating Erin’s words as well. His gaze shifted to Leslie; his mouth tightened.

      “That’s a nice sweater,” Leslie said to him, wanting to find some way to ease the rough start they’d all had.

      “You haven’t seen it? Erin gave it to me at home, so that I could СКАЧАТЬ