Page 66 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

She could feel a mortified blush heat her face and she muttered, “There’s nothing on TV.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” he said, muffling what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

There was a knock on the door and a man wearing khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt wheeled in a cart loaded with food. Fisher tipped him and the man disappeared.

“Let’s eat,” he said. “And don’t give me that ‘I’m not hungry’ business. I can hear your stomach growling in the next room.”

Annie narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re awfully pushy.”

“Only because I care,” he said. Annie tried to see his face, but he had his head down examining the contents of the cart.

Annie wandered over to where he stood. Steak and potatoes, salad, rolls with whipped butter and strawberries with whipped cream loaded the cart. Her stomach growled and Fisher smiled as he handed her a plate.

They sat on the tile ledge that surrounded the hot tub and gazed at the lights of Las Vegas spread out before them. Annie felt Fisher studying her, but she refused to wonder what he was thinking about. She couldn’t help thinking that if they weren’t married, this would be a terribly romantic trip.

They returned their empty plates to the cart and poured two cups of coffee. They placed the strawberries and whipped cream between them on the ledge and munched. Neither of them spoke and Annie was surprised to discover that it was a comfortable silence. She felt as if she’d known Fisher for years. That must be one more downside to getting married. Instant frumpdom.

“It’s spectacular,” Fisher said consideringly.

“The city of sin? It sure is.” She turned to face him and their gazes met.

“You have some whipped cream here,” he said and pointed to his upper lip. Embarrassed, she licked her lip.

“No, the other...oh, hell.” He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her close. His tongue licked at the spot of cream on her lip before deepening the kiss into one of wicked, knee-wilting passion. So much for frumpdom, Annie thought as she buried her fingers in his hair.

The kiss was long and hot and sweet, tasting of strawberries and cream. Annie felt as if she could never get enough of him. She pressed against him until they shifted, and she found herself on her back against the tile and Fisher lying on top of her.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he confessed between kisses.

They kissed and kissed and kissed some more until Annie began to feel whisker burn sting her chin. She didn’t care. She wanted to feel marked by their time together.

They weren’t civil about taking off their clothes. Her cream-colored dress was launched across the room to tangle with his suit coat on the floor. Buttons popped and zippers were drawn until she was wearing nothing but her high heels. He took about three seconds to appreciate the look and then those, too, joined the puddle of clothing on the floor.

Pressed skin to skin, there was no question of their belonging together. It was right. Absolutely. Annie loved Fisher McCoy with all her heart. She knew he was the one, the one man she would always love.

“Annie-girl,” Fisher growled in her ear and Annie shivered. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

Hot and hazy with desire, Annie did as she was told. Fisher sat up and pulled her onto his lap. She gazed at him through a stray lock of red curly hair. The lines of his face looked taut with barely checked desire. He was breathing hard and Annie could feel his heart racing beneath her fingertips.

He cupped her bottom and held her in place. The feel of his fingers against her skin made her arch with need. He was so close. It was torture to be so close and not be joined. Annie rocked forward and Fisher gasped.

“My wife,” Fisher said through gritted teeth. “You are my wife.”

“Yes,” Annie whispered. “Yes.”

Wrapping her arms about him, she surrendered to the passion between them. The feel of his mouth on her skin, the feel of his hands as he pulled her hips close and pushed them away in a steady rhythm left her breathless.

Time ceased. There was nothing but the two of them and the power of their union as the passion between them exploded with harsh cries of pleasure and silent whispers of love.

The sound of running water broke through her sleepy haze and Annie pushed off Fisher to glance around the room. Fisher had reached over and turned on the tap and hot, steamy water was filling the hot tub. She glanced at him in surprise.

“I want to see you all wet and soapy,’ he said with a leer. “Besides I think I hurt myself on this tile.”

Annie laughed and then winced. “Ouch. I think I did, too.”

“In you go,” he said and nudged her toward the water.

It was hot and she hissed as she sank into the bubbles. Fisher slid in beside her. He ducked under the water and came back up with a pile of suds on his head. Annie burst out laughing.

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