Special Deliveries Collection. Kate Hardy

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      “One would think we had better judgment now,” he muttered against her lips. He lifted her sweater off and tossed it on a chair.

      His gaze traveled over her and a moment of anxiety surged through her. She wasn’t a perky eighteen-year-old anymore. Fighting the urge to cover herself, she let him look at her.

      “More beautiful than I remember.” He lowered his head and kissed the top of each of her breasts.

      Warmth pooled in her chest at his praise and his kisses. “More suave than I remember.”

      “I’ve had a little more practice.” His fingers began to work on her jeans.

      She tried to unbutton his shirt. Frustration bit into her as the buttons refused to come undone. “I’m sadly out of practice.”

      His lips claimed hers and she completely forgot what she was trying to do. Within moments, she felt him shrug out of his shirt and her skin was touching his. Desire flooded her.

      “This wasn’t exactly what I meant by getting to know me better.” Brady kissed the side of her throat.

      She wanted to purr with contentment, to let him take the lead and show her how hot passion could burn. “This is a good way to judge someone’s character.”

      Her hands skimmed over his back. Every muscle twitched under her fingers as they passed. Some sane part of her brain kept intruding. Was she going to have sex with Brady Ward? Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself like Penny always insisted? Why shouldn’t she let herself go for one night before returning to reality? It’s not real. It’s New York.

      Tawnee Valley seemed forever away. Brady’s mouth was magical as it pressed against her skin. She wanted to sink into this and forget everything. Escape.

      His mouth found hers and she released her thoughts like balloons. Her knees hit the side of his bed. A flash of reasoning rushed through the fog gathered in her brain and the thought balloons crashed all around her.

      She put her hands against his chest and pushed a little. He backed off immediately, but his hands held her hips against his.

      “Too fast?” The concern in his eyes made her want to yell no, but instead, she nodded. He rested his forehead against hers and drew in a deep breath. “I kind of got carried away.”

      “Me, too,” she admitted, even as her fingertips tingled with the touch of his hard chest beneath them.

      He lifted his head and tipped her chin. His eyes searched hers. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been here.”

      “We don’t know each other at all.” She sighed. His blue eyes had always been devastating to her. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

      “I understand.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. Her cheek rested against his heart. There was nothing sensual about the hug, but she could feel his desire pressed against her. Her insides pulsed, but she ignored the craving.

      “I should probably go to my room now,” she said weakly. Tell me to stay, a little part of her whispered.

      He released her and stepped away. “I suppose that’s for the best.”

      Trying to play it cool, she retrieved her sweater. She pretended not to hear the little rumble from his chest as she pulled it on. It felt good to be desired, even if she should forget about it entirely.

      “Tomorrow is Saturday…” She waited for him to acknowledge her, but didn’t dare look his way as she walked toward the doorway.

      “Unfortunately, I have to work all day.”

      She glanced back and he caught her gaze. For a moment, she wanted to toss her cares to the wind. They’d had sex before. The only difference now was they had a connection in their daughter. Their daughter. She couldn’t afford to start anything with the father of her child, as ridiculous as that sounded.

      “We should be free to leave on Sunday.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, drawing her attention away from his eyes and over his chest, down his flat abs to the unbuttoned fly of his pants.

      She raised her eyes before venturing lower. “I should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

      “Maggie?”

      She paused and he walked to her, stopping just out of arm’s reach.

      “You could stay in here. We could just talk. We don’t have to…”

      A sigh worked its way through her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

      His grin had a sheepish quality about it. “You’re probably right. Good night, Maggie, and thank you.”

      “For what?”

      “For raising our daughter on your own. For flying here to tell me. For staying. For dinner. For being you.”

      “Good night, Brady.” She gently closed the bedroom door behind her before she changed her mind.

       Chapter Seven

      Sunday morning, Brady sat at the table with his coffee. Maggie either wasn’t awake yet or was still in her bedroom. During work yesterday, Brady had made progress and had packed the necessities from his desk: laptop, cell phone, wireless router. This might not be the best move for the project, but meeting his daughter was essential. When he’d walked into his apartment last night, he’d almost turned around to check the number to make sure he was in the right place.

      The quilt remained on the back of the couch. A couple of framed photos sat on the table he threw his keys on. He recognized the frames as a Christmas gift from a work party.

      He sat at his table scrolling through emails on his Black-Berry, trying to ignore the centerpiece of flowers in a vase he was fairly certain was new. The changes had made the room feel a little more like home and less like a hotel. Instead of making him feel good, it made him feel like a guest in his own space.

      Except in his bedroom. A red silk scarf had been draped over the foot of the bed, adding a bright spot of color to his drab existence. He had wanted that color to be Maggie draped in red silk across his bed. It even had a hint of her light floral scent to it. Positive she was already asleep last night, he’d made himself pass her door without knocking. But his imagination had kept him awake into the early morning.

      “Good morning.” Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. The real Maggie was better than his imagination. Her blond hair was damp. The green “I heart N.Y.” T-shirt lovingly hugged her curves. His fingers itched from the memory of touching those curves. The scent of her strawberry shampoo floated around him. Far from the seductive scents of the tailor-suited women he was used to. Maggie had him uncomfortably aroused even in her cheap shirt with clean, unstyled hair.

      “Morning,” he mumbled. This was going to be a long two weeks. Being with her and unable to kiss her was going to be torture. She’d only said it was too СКАЧАТЬ