A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal. Teresa Carpenter

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СКАЧАТЬ She had no idea how to approach him, but she did know it wouldn’t be before this deal with his grandmother played out.

      It wouldn’t be fair to distract him at this time.

      And, truly, everything else hinged on his reaction. Any plans she conceived were contingent on how involved he’d want to be.

      Her stomach roiled. The realization threatened the scant control she’d managed to muster.

      She drew out her phone and powered it up. She had a couple of her own calls to make.

      * * *

      About forty minutes before they were scheduled to land Ray roused Lauren. Halfway through the trip she’d stretched out on one of the couches and slid into a solid sleep. She hadn’t moved an eyelash when he’d dropped a blanket over her and stuffed a pillow under her head.

      She was slow to awaken. He had no idea if that was natural or not, as they’d never actually slept together. He tended not to sleep with the women in his life. Too messy.

      How fragile she looked. He traced the shadows under the fan of her lashes. She said she wasn’t sick, yet she was tired and pale and a couple of times he’d caught an expression on her face that made him think she might be fighting off nausea. Perhaps it was the aftereffects of stress. Handling her sister’s wedding during Hollywood’s biggest party season must have been a challenge, even for a pro like her.

      She was such a strong woman—quick and intelligent and in control—he tended to overlook the fact she was quite delicate.

      “Lauren.” He ran his hand up her arm, gave her shoulder a gentle shake. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

      “Hmm?” She sighed and shifted onto her side. “Ga-way.”

      He grinned. “No, I’m not going away.” Leaning over her, he pressed his lips to hers. “But I’ll join you if you’d like.” That ought to wake her up.

      “Ray...” Her lips opened under his and an arm snaked around his neck, pulling him close.

      The action put him off balance. He went down on one knee to keep from tumbling on top of her. He’d happily follow up on his offer to join her on the couch as soon as he knew her mind was as engaged as her body.

      Meantime, he sank into the kiss.

      Instantly the chemistry ignited between them. Angling his head, he slid his tongue past her lips to taste the honey of her mouth. Her sleepy response seduced him into a slow, deep exploration. The meandering journey pulled them down a path not yet taken. The softness of the moment was different but every bit as hot as their bolder encounters.

      She sighed and shifted fully onto her back. The drag of her fingers through his hair was a dreamy caress, a subtle demand for more, for longer, for slow and sensual. He willingly set the pace, lingering over each touch, each taste, each smell, satiating all his senses. Her breath sighed over his cheek and he took satisfaction in each little moue and gasp.

      Never had he burned for a woman like he did for her. And she was right there with him, her responsiveness inspiring him to new depths.

      The gradual, sultry building of passion urged him to tenderness, to lengthy kisses and gentle insistence. He worked his hand under her sweater and glided up her silky skin, seeking the bounty of her breast.

      She suddenly went very still and her hand came down on his, effectively pushing the stop button on his attempt to move their embrace to the next step.

      “Not a good idea,” she mumbled in a sleep-husky voice.

      He groaned and tested her resolve, sweeping his thumb across the warm flesh of her stomach. She gasped and tightened her hold, but the knit of her sweater separating her grasp from his was a thin barrier to his persistence.

      “Shh, Dynamite,” he whispered against her lips, “you’re dreaming.”

      “Liar.” Her lips lifted in a smile under his and then she turned her head aside. “My body is too alive for me to be asleep.” She pulled his hand free of her clothes. “We agreed no touching.”

      “You started it, wrapping yourself all around me.” He kissed a path up her jawline to whisper in her ear. “Let me finish it. We can start the no touching when we get to New York.”

      She moaned deep in her throat—a sound he took to mean she was tempted, if the look in her golden eyes meant anything.

      “Uh-uh.” She planted both hands on his chest and pushed. “I did not start it. You kissed me first. When I had no resistance. Unfair, Ray.”

      He let her up, slid onto the couch next to her when she pushed into a sitting position. “Spoilsport.”

      An arch glare came his way. “Really?”

      The show of ire along with her mussed hair and just-kissed lips was too sexy for words. Made him want to take up where they had left off. Forget about apologizing. Besides, he still maintained she’d started it. His had been a mere peck on the lips; she had taken it to the next level.

      Not waiting for a response, she rolled her eyes, then glanced back at him. “Why did you wake me?”

      He checked his watch—much safer than contemplating her. “In ten minutes we begin our descent. I thought you’d like to freshen up before we buckle up.”

      “Oh. I would, thanks.” She made her escape.

      While she did her thing he went through his email and texts. The car service he used in New York advised that a driver was waiting. His meeting with the mayor was confirmed. And Mamó couldn’t wait to see him.

      With a sigh he slipped the phone into his pocket. This trip was long overdue. Sure, he saw his family regularly, stopping off in New York or flying them to him two or three times a year. But he rarely went back to the old neighborhood. Certainly not for any length of time. Too many memories he’d rather not deal with.

      Lauren came back, looking as calm and fresh as when she’d first boarded the plane. Something he envied, considering he still ached from their recent bout of passion. He earned another glare when he settled in the seat next to hers, and those luscious lips opened ready to protest, but the pilot came on, demanding they buckle up.

      The landing went well and soon Ray saw Lauren seated into a sleek black town car. She promptly slid to the far side of the bench seat, leaving at least a foot between them, and pulled out her tablet, effectively shutting him out. Within a few minutes they were swallowed by the late-afternoon traffic headed through the borough of Queens to Queens Village.

      His grandmother lived in a two-family, two-story pitched-roof house on a postage-stamp-sized lot. He’d tried to upgrade her to a bigger house on a larger lot in a better area, but she refused to move. She’d lived in her house since she’d moved in as a bride and intended to stay until the day she died. Rather than argue, he’d paid off the mortgage, bought out the neighbors so his aunt could move in, and made sure the house remained sound and safe.

      “We’re here,” he said as the pale gray building with its white filigree fence came into view.

      Lauren leaned close to look out the window. “Quaint house.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ