Page 35 of Conail

Glaring at him, she moved to the far end and tugged the sheets over her. And turned her back for good measure.

A slow smile touched his lips, and he was tempted to haul her up against him, but that would not do. In a few minutes he heard her even breathing and realized she was asleep.

Lifting a hand to the back of his head, he stared up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling. He was just concerned—that was it. She was in his life—in a purely professional manner and he was concerned about her. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and found himself drifting off.

He had no idea what woke him up. At first he did not know where he was. The bed did not feel like his own and there was something pressing against his chest. Sometime during the night, he had turned onto his side. Something else was happening. He felt strange and achy. His eyes flew open and there was enough light shining from the moon for him to see that something was actually someone.

He woke up fully as realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He was spooning her. She was snug against his body, his arm around her waist. And her bottom comfortably fitted to his crotch. Christ Jesus! He was also as hard as steel, hence the pain he was feeling. It was as if the blood had drained from everywhere inside his body to settle at one place.

Embarrassment and several conflicting emotions filled him. He had to extricate himself quickly before she woke up to find out what was going on.

He started with his hand which was tucked under her neck and managed to get that out without waking her. The rest was easy. Just a matter of sliding away and off the bed. Easier said than done. She was so flush against him, her skin warm to the touch and soft, that he unconsciously found himself reveling in the feel of her.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled away until he was detached. Get up! The voice inside his head cried out. Don't make it complicated. He pushed off the bed and stood there, uncomfortably hard and aroused as hell, his heart beating like a trip hammer as he stared at her. What the hell was happening to him?

Chapter 10

He left quickly and quietly, telling himself that he was not a coward. He was just being cautious. He also convinced himself that he had not been with a woman in weeks, hence the natural reaction to her.

He was a male after all, and she was a female. Not that he was attracted to every Jane and Molly that came along. He was discriminating and chose his partners carefully. Especially after the fiasco that had upended his life in the past.

And she was carrying his seed.

All those arguments crowded inside his head as he made the drive back to his place in the early hours of the morning. Snow glistened on buildings and sidewalks, turning everything into a pristine white that was appealing to the eyes. Traffic was light due to the holidays and within half an hour, he was back at his apartment.

He had intended to spend Christmas at the club, just to relax and unwind. The corporate office was closed until January sixth, but that did not mean he did not have business to attend to. A trip to China was on the books and a crossover to Italy where he was going to check on his vineyard.

Letting himself into the apartment, he headed straight to the bedroom and stripped off his clothing. He had been on his way to the opera when his mother called. He should have told her he was busy.

Stepping under the multiple jets, he closed his eyes and tried to force the image from his brain. The sight of her bare thighs when he rubbed the cramps away, the feel of her skin, satiny soft... His eyes snapped open as he felt his flesh swelling and his blood getting hot.

Turning off the sprays, he dragged restless fingers through his wet hair. He needed coffee, that was it. The caffeine would fix things inside him.

Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and chanced a look down. He was fully aroused. Swearing viciously, he toweled himself off and went into the bedroom.

He should call up someone. Margo. No. She was pissed at him for his casual disregard for her feelings. She wanted more and he could not afford to ignore the fact that that was where her mind was headed.

Opening drawers, he dragged out a pair of ancient sweats. He would fix himself a pot of coffee and work on the contract he needed to take with him. Then he would make some calls. Probably wake up his damn assistant to deal with some paperwork.

He paid the man an exorbitant amount to be at his beck and call. Not that he minded, Conail conceded grudgingly. Jerome was loyal and committed.

Pulling the t-shirt over his head, he also remembered that he had given him and his partner the use of the pied a' terre in Paris. For a week.

Making his way downstairs, he stood there inside the pristine and spotless kitchen. His housekeeper had also been given the time off, but the woman had cooked a mountain of food as if she expected him to starve for the week she would be gone. And she had labeled everything.

There was food for breakfast, lunch and dinner, even though he had specifically told her he would be more out than in.

Shaking his head, he heaped the coffee inside the filter. Very soon, the potent scent had him almost whimpering in relief. Standing by the counter, he waited impatiently for it to brew and poured a large amount into the cup.

Taking it with him, he headed to his office on the first floor. What he needed was work, he decided. But first...

Sitting behind the desk, he took several sips before reaching for the phone. She would be up now, and it was only fitting that he should check on her.

"Mother."

"Darling, I was hoping you would have stayed for breakfast."

"I had something to do." He took several more sips and floundered. "Er -- I was just wondering -- Is she awake?"

---