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.She'd had a wonderful time with him—she couldn't deny it—and that included what they'd done in bed.Yes, what they'd done in bed.As a lover, Spencer was masterful.He had her wanting him the way she had never wanted another man, and it kept getting better and better.The wanting was with her even now.No matter that they were in bucket seats, separated by a storage bin and the gearshift, she felt his presence as though they were still in bed, nestled against each other, sleeping—or pretending to.He had been sleeping; she had heard the evenness of his heartbeat by her ear; but she had found something so pleasurable in lying with him that she hadn't wanted to miss it by sleeping for long.Vividly she remembered the softness of his chest hair against her cheek, his clean scent, the firmness of his torso against hers, the length of the arm that circled her and held her in place.She remembered the way her leg had curved naturally over his, and the way he had slept with his face buried in her hair.Oh, yes, she was falling in love.Try as she might to find things to hate about Spencer, she couldn't She supposed she could take that as a tribute to her own judgment, that the man she had chosen to father her child was as close to perfect as a man could be.But it didn't bode well for her future, in which Spencer had no role at all.So what was she to do? Was she to go back to pushing him away and trying to keep their lovemaking as uninvolved as possible? That made sense.At least if she could keep reminding herself of the reason they were together, she had a chance of keeping her feelings for him within bounds.The problem was that when she was with him, when they were doing things together, she had trouble thinking straight.It was a good thing she didn't have to remember to use birth control, she mused.She'd be pregnant for sure then."What is it?" he asked, darting her short, repeated glances."What?""You chuckled."She hadn't realized it.Blushing but unable to help it, she said, "It was nothing.A Murphy's Law kind of thing."He reached over and took her hand.She liked it when he did that.His hand was large and strong, and made her feel protected.This time he anchored it to his thigh—clad in jeans today—and held it until they turned in at his friends' farm.Jenna liked his friends.Spencer had gone to school years earlier with the female half of the couple, and he and the male half had subsequently become friends.The couple raised horses.Jenna, who had always wished Rhode Island were lush enough for that, loved seeing the stables, the paddock, the pastures.Though she had never ridden a horse previously, she was eager to try—then proud when she held her own on the albeit gentle mount they gave her.Spencer stayed by her side for all but the brief periods of time when he gave his own horse free rein.She didn't begrudge him those times.He needed the freedom himself, and besides, he was a heart-stopping sight on a horse.It was dark before they left Virginia.Having slept only intermittently the previous night, Jenna managed to stay awake during the drive back, but she was in bed and sound asleep by the time Spencer returned after disposing of the car.She woke up several times during the night to an awareness of the warmth of his body beside her and, selfishly, didn't fight its pull.He would be gone soon enough, she knew, but before he left, she wanted the closeness he was so willing to offer.Somehow that didn't seem wrong.So she curled against him in defiance of the fact that he was Caroline's brother, that he was a world-renowned adventurer and author, that he would be back to his own life before long.If nothing else, she reasoned, he would know that his baby's mother was a woman worthy of warmth and affection.Spencer was in pain.The last thing he wanted to do was to climb out of bed on Monday morning, and it didn't have to do with the soreness of his thighs, but rather what lay hard and heavy between them.Morning desire had always been a problem for him, but waking up to a snuggling Jenna made the problem ten times worse.He shifted her in his arms and rubbed his lips against her forehead, then lay for a while wondering how much more he dared do.She wasn't a daylight lover.He would make her one yet, but he couldn't rush her.She was still thinking of the baby, and had her mind set on the night.The night.That night.He wasn't sure if he could wait.Closing his eyes, he took a tortured breath."Spencer?" came a whisper from his chest."Umm?" He was afraid to say much, lest she move away."Are you okay?""Just fine.""You sound uncomfortable." Before he could explain that the discomfort was a sweet agony, she rolled out of his arms and sat up on her side of the bed.Her hair was a tangle around her head.She pushed it back with a hand, sat that way for a minute, then freed herself of the sheet and swung her legs to the floor.In her innocent white gown, with her slenderness apparent and her hair a dark, seductive cloud, she looked as exotic as the most delicate of South Seas beauties.Spencer would have given his right arm to lunge for her and drag her back to bed.In a moment of pique that was directed as much at his own damnable self-control as at her, he said, "I wasn't just uncomfortable.I was—am—in excruciating pain [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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