Working Overtime. Raye Morgan
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Название: Working Overtime
Автор: Raye Morgan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish
isbn: 9781408945162
isbn:
“Nothing,” he said quickly, shrugging out of his shirt and dropping it onto a nearby chair. “Nothing at all.”
She was going to say more, but one look at his muscular chest rendered her speechless and she looked away quickly, praying that she wouldn’t turn red as she moved toward the bed with the fresh sheets. The picture Sherry had created in the calendar had nothing on the reality. It had been a long time since she’d been this close to a real live shirtless man. She wondered, fleetingly, if he would notice if she turned up the air conditioner. It seemed to be getting awfully hot in the room.
“Here, grab this side,” she ordered as she tossed the sheets down and began to pull the fitted one into place.
He did as he’d been told and they got the sheet on in no time. Chareen reached for the top one and gave it a swish, looked up and caught Michael’s eye as he grabbed his side, and her heart did a flip in her chest. There was something in the way he was looking at her…
“Pull it tight,” she ordered, avoiding his gaze and trying to keep her equilibrium. Just a few more minutes and she would be out of here.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice like a purr.
“Tuck it under, like this,” she said, demonstrating a hospital corner.
He gazed at her balefully. “What is the point?” he asked, making no effort to attempt one.
With an exasperated sigh, she charged around the end of the bed to do it herself, but he didn’t make way fast enough, and when he did move, it was in the wrong direction. She turned right into him, their bodies collided, and the next thing she knew, she was falling down onto the bed, and he was falling on top of her. She gasped. He broke his fall with his arms, bracing himself over her, looking down into her face.
“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t move.
She knew she should say something, but she seemed to have lost all power of speech. Her gaze was locked with his, and she felt as though she were lost, wandering in the shadows of his hazel eyes, unable to find a way out. His hard, warm body was pressed to hers in so many places. To have a man so close, so strong, was unbelievably intoxicating. It had been so long since a man had held her in his arms and made sweet love to her.
Suddenly, she ached to have that feeling again. Her senses drank in every nuance of his presence, his clean, manly scent, the brush of his breath against her hair, the hard muscles of his thighs pressing on hers. Her hands were flattened against his naked chest, and she could feel his heart beating a pulse into her palm.
“I hold your heart in my hand.” The sentiment flickered through her mind and for one very scary moment, she was afraid she might have said it out loud.
But there wasn’t time to worry about that, because her body was turning traitor. A shudder ran through her soul and she knew she wanted him in a strange, deep and very primitive way. The need had an urgency that took her breath away and seemed about to convulse her body, as though she’d been taken over by a libidinous spirit that would soon render her helpless to resist. Her lips parted and she found herself arching toward him, begging for his kiss. There was a moan starting deep in her throat. Was it a moan of surrender? Of triumph? Of overwhelming desire?
She would never know, because at that moment there was a new sound from the hallway.
“Mama? Mama?”
As though a switch had been thrown, her eyes snapped wide and she used those hands that had been kneading into the muscles of his chest to throw him off her. Springing to her feet, she called out, “Just a minute, baby,” and glared at where Michael was sprawled on the bed, looking as though he wasn’t sure what had just happened here.
“If you need anything else, Mr. Greco,” she said evenly, “you can wait for Hannah to get back. I’m off duty. See you in the morning.”
She stared at him for a short moment, as though she could hardly believe what they’d just shared could have really happened, then she spun around, threw open the door and headed into the hallway.
He rose slowly from the bed, still throbbing deep down with the need for her. His mind was fogged with exhaustion and desire, and he really wasn’t sure what was going on. Reaching the doorway, he leaned against the jamb and looked out into the hallway, watching as she scooped two little redheaded boys into her arms.
“Where did they come from?” he asked, completely at sea and mainly intent on getting her to come back into the room.
She looked up at him and her chin lifted. “They’re mine,” she said proudly. “Ricky and Ronnie. Say hello to Mr. Greco, boys. He’s my boss.”
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