by Debra Webb
“I didn’t have you pegged as the domestic type.”
Nora closed the door and turned to face him, hands on hips. “How exactly did you have me pegged?”
One corner of that sexy mouth tilted wickedly. “I’d better take the Fifth on that one.”
“Would you like something to drink? A beer?” Was it too early to be offering beer? “Juice?” No man ever made her feel awkward. Somehow this one did.
“No, thanks.”
“Then sit.” She gestured to the sofa.
Thankfully she’d picked up before she’d started vacuuming. Her place had been a mess. Clothes and take-out boxes strewn all over the place.
He swaggered over to the sofa and settled on one end. She draped herself on the arm of the other end.
“So, what’re you doing today?” They’d both been given rest days. Definitely a good thing, considering how exhausted she’d been when she finally climbed into her own bed last night.
“Went to the market. Picked up a few things.” He shrugged those really nice shoulders. “Went for a run. Worked out at the gym.”
God, she hated people who could work forty-eight hours straight and then still go to the gym. “I’m glad you had the energy.”
“Habit.”
She wasn’t about to get on the subject of habits. Chocolate. Wine. Shopping. She had far too many habits in which she liked to indulge.
“I thought maybe you might like to have lunch.”
That tingle that started each time she thought of him—even when he wasn’t in the room—buzzed to life. “That could work.” She stood. “But I need to change first.”
“Actually—” he stood as well “—I meant here.”
Her fridge was distinctly empty.
Before she could say as much, he added, “There’s this great place just a few blocks from here that delivers.”
“Chinese?” she asked, hoping he was thinking of her favorite take-out joint.
“Definitely. A sort of hole-in-the-wall, but the food is fantastic.”
She reached for the phone on the table by the sofa. “I know their number by heart.” She entered the number and made a mental note of what he wanted as she waited for an answer.
When the order had been placed and an assurance that it would be twenty to thirty minutes had been given, Nora dropped the phone back into its charger and rummaged around in her brain for what to say next. “Twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Good. We can—” he shrugged “—talk for twenty to thirty minutes.”
Her head was moving up and down in affirmation. “Talking is good.”
“Get to know each other better,” he said, clarifying.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “There’s a lot…to know, I suppose.”
“I have two brothers,” he said. “And my parents.”
She nodded again. “No siblings. A mother somewhere in Cali.” She probably should have explained that last part, but she couldn’t stop watching his lips.
“I bought a house over in Hyde Park a couple of months ago.”
“Nice.” And his hands. He had the greatest hands. Broad, powerful…long, blunt-tipped fingers.
“I’m still trying to figure out the whole decorating and furnishing thing.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Her apartment, other than her meager furniture, looked exactly as it had the day she rented it three years ago. She wouldn’t mention that, though.
“I guess we have about fifteen more minutes.”
“Fifteen to twenty probably.”
Not nearly enough time for what she would love to do with him.
Her heart bumped against her sternum when his gaze settled on her lips.
Their eyes met…and the polite conversation was over.
They lunged into each other’s arms.
He kissed her. She loved the way he kissed. The way his hands moved over her body, lifted her against him.
“We don’t have enough time,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Fifteen minutes of foreplay.” She nibbled on his chin. “We can save the main course for after the delivery.”
He eased her back down on the sofa. “Sounds like a plan.”
He cupped her breast, made a path down her throat with those amazing lips. She did not want to wait.
“Forget the foreplay.” She reached for the fly of his jeans.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered as he slipped his hands into her baggy shorts.
Ten seconds of stripping and he was inside her.
She closed her eyes, relished the incredible sensation.
She couldn’t get enough of touching him…of having his weight against her.
It felt so good.
Just like the dream she’d had last night.
Hours and hours of making love with him.
She’d awakened with the strangest urge…the urge to make babies.
Maybe it was all the chatter about new babies at the agency…. Or maybe it was knowing how close she’d come to losing that precious capacity.
Whatever the case, Ted Tallant was definitely the man she wanted to make babies with.
As his lips melded with hers and his hips began that rhythmic pumping, she had one last fleeting thought.
She’d have to marry him first…make a decent man out of him.
Maybe she’d run that by him later…after this appetizer…and the main course…and maybe even dessert.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6050-8
COLBY CONTROL
Copyright © 2010 by Debra Webb
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*Colby Agency
*Colby Agency
†The Equalizers
†The Equalizers
†The Equalizers
*Colby Agency
*Colby Agency
*Colby Agency
††Colby Agency: Elite Reconnaissance Division
††Colby Agency: Elite Reconnaissance Division
††Colby Agency: Elite Reconnaissance Division
*Colby Agency
**Colby Agency: Under Siege
**Colby Agency: Under Siege
§Colby Agency: Merger
