Page 39 of Passionate Defense

As she attempted to straighten her clothes, Ethan lifted his hips and tucked himself in. After an hour of teasing and a mind-blowing release, she was a little muddled and fumbled with her buttons. Ever observant, he noticed. Brushing her hands aside, he deftly did up the remaining buttons on her blouse.

“Thank you for the surprise.”

“You’re very welcome. Let’s go check out the house, get cleaned up, and have dinner. Afterward, we’ll take a walk on the beach in the moonlight.”

“Perfect.” Her arms wrapped around his neck before he could get out, and she whispered in his ear. “You can’t fathom how much I love you, Ethan Fischer.”

He captured her chin with his broad palm and in the fading light of the evening, she saw his dark eyes glimmer with happiness.

“I bet I can.” He brushed his lips against hers then grinned down at her with a flash of his dimple. “Let’s go explore.”

Chapter 10

WORK DEADLINES ANDpressures disappeared in their private paradise made possible by Ethan and his insistence that Lanie unplug—no phone, iPad or internet, whatsoever. Situated high on a bluff, the three-story oceanfront home featured panoramic ocean views from almost every room, especially the main bedroom. It occupied the entire third floor with large picture windows on all four walls. In the mornings, a spectacular sunrise could be enjoyed without leaving the comfort of the massive king-size bed. Or, if sleeping in was the preference, the smart windows, activated with the touch of button, darkened the room like it was midnight. French doors exited onto a private balcony with a spectacular view of the ocean.

Since it had been a long drive, following an even longer day and a seemingly endless week, they ate dinner on the deck—sandwiches and chips which Ethan had thought to pack—while listening to the waves crash onto the shore then headed to bed early. With the doors open, the light breeze off the water fluttering the curtains, they snuggled in one another’s arms and let the glorious sounds of the surf lull them to sleep.

On Saturday, when they climbed out of bed after a morning of dozing between rounds of steamy sex, Ethan made breakfast—surprising her with cinnamon French toast, her favorite. Since it was a few minutes before noon when they sat down to eat, technically, it was brunch, and he served it with mimosas on the deck.

Afterward, he sent her upstairs to shower and change into the outfit he’d laid out on the bed. They were going sightseeing and afterward, planned to explore the shops in town like tourists.

She practically skipped up the stairs in her eagerness to see what he’d picked out. The small stack of folded clothes was where he promised. On top was a vintage denim miniskirt with a ruffled hem. It sat low on her hips and although it barely reached mid-thigh, her considerate husband had left a pair of panties, which he must have had stashed in his own suitcase. On first glance, they appeared to be conservative white panties with a cute bow in front, but the back was a sheer mesh panel with three rows of small ruffles. Her man was into ruffles, evidently.

Pulling them on, she turned from side to side in front of the mirror. Sweet in the front but very naughty in the back. At least they gave her a small measure of coverage beneath her short skirt. Thankfully, he had included a matching bra—white, lightly padded with demi-cups. Nice.

When she reached for the pink top that was folded neatly under white anklets, she frowned at the giant pink-and-white polka-dot bow emblazoned across the front. The graphic would hit right at her boobs, right above the signature of Minnie Mouse, the I’s dotted with little hearts.

Nope! Not gonna happen. She and the ditzy Disney mouse did not get along. Refolding it with the hideous bow out of sight, she left it where she found it. He was so not funny. She went to the dresser and searched through the other options, coming across another pink top—a fitted scoop-neck Henley. Perfect.

She was leaning into the mirror applying lip gloss when she heard him come up the stairs. Watching his reflection, she saw him pause in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. His gazed promptly homed in on her butt. Definitely an ass man.

“Ponytail or braids, honey?”

“Braids,” he answered decisively as his gaze lifted to her hair. “There are matching bows in the top drawer.”

Lanie stood up and slid out the drawer, making a face at the Minnie Mouse hair bows she found inside. She promptly closed it.

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