It felt like a promise.
All she’d ever had before was the physical side. Never a connection like this. Never such bliss. Never pure, sweet heaven.
After the last tremors subsided, he’d left her just long enough to dispose of the protection, then returned to pull the covers over them. They’d lain bonelessly in each other’s arms for several long minutes. She loved the feeling of being cocooned with him. So safe. So warm. So full of lingering pleasure.
“Mmm.” She wasn’t ready to speak yet, but she needed to make at least a small sound to let him know how divine making love with him had been.
He stroked his hand over her bare skin, and she shivered with pleasure at how good it felt. “Now that was worth waiting for.” He might have sounded cocky—and she knew he could be darned cocky when he wanted to be—but his voice was soft, reverent.
“More than worth it,” she agreed, loving the feel of his strong and steady heartbeat beneath her palm. She wanted to snuggle up to him, sleep in his arms, then make love with him again in the deepest, darkest hours of the night.
She would have done all that if the sound of the doorbell hadn’t pealed through the penthouse. “Who could that be at this hour?” she grumbled, her delicious dream going down the tubes.
“I’ll get it.” He kissed her forehead before he got out of bed, and she pulled the covers over her head, but he peeled a corner back a minute later to let her know¸ “Walter sent us a little gift.”
She wrapped herself in the thick terrycloth robe the hotel had provided and followed him out to the sitting room. In front of the sofa, on a trolley draped elegantly with a gold cloth, sat a champagne bucket, two flutes, and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries the size of plums. “Walter is so sweet. He didn’t have to do this.” Her mouth watered not only for the chocolate, but for Sebastian, his legs bare beneath his own matching robe, the sleeves rolled up to showcase his muscled forearms.
He popped the cork, expertly catching the champagne in a crystal flute. Handing her the glass, he poured another for himself.
“My God, you’re beautiful.” He toasted her, his eyes dark with a desire that made her tremble. “The moment I saw you walking down those stairs in that gorgeous dress, I swear my heart stopped beating. I couldn’t remember how to breathe. No other woman has ever made me feel like that, Charlie.” He set his glass on the trolley and laid his hands on either side of her face. “Only you.”
He pressed his mouth to hers, still sizzling with champagne, and she lost herself in his kiss. Their bodies melted together, their lips almost one, their hearts connected.
When he finally drew back, she realized she couldn’t let him think she’d bought a designer dress after she’d turned down his offer to buy one for her. “I bought the dress at a consignment store, and my mom designed the alterations.”
“You’re kidding.” She couldn’t quite read his tone, whether he was impressed or upset that she’d bought consignment rather than letting him give her the designer dress.
“Mom loves to sew and is great at giving direction. And I only stabbed myself a half-dozen times with the needle,” she joked.
He pulled her down onto the buttery-soft leather sofa in front of Walter’s extravagant gift. Then he lifted her hands, kissing each fingertip, one after the other. “The dress was exquisite and you were brilliant tonight. Everyone loved you and you were absolutely gorgeous.”
Yes, she’d felt beautiful tonight. And she’d loved hearing that he’d lost his breath over her. But at the same time there was a part of her—a really big part—that wanted Sebastian to prefer the real Charlie in overalls and steel-toed boots.
He’d been able to resist her until tonight. Was she irresistible only when she was dressed to fit into his world?
“You outshone every other woman there.” He raised an eyebrow. “Which clearly upset Whitney. Sorry she was her usual self when you met her. And you certainly deserve a treat for putting up with her.” He plucked a succulent strawberry off the plate and held it up.
Working hard to push away the dark—and surely crazy—thought she’d just had, she bit into the dark chocolate and sweet fruit right from his fingers. It was as delicious and tempting as Sebastian.
But she wanted to know about the Maverick dynamic. “You don’t seem to be much of a fan of Evan’s wife.” Charlie had quickly picked up on the fact that none of the Mavericks felt particularly relaxed around Whitney.
“She treats Evan like crap. He’s worth way more than that. Deserves way more.” He finished the other half of the strawberry, licking a dab of chocolate from his thumb.
Her mouth watered, wanting to lick him clean herself. She sipped her champagne. Such luxury. She could really love being spoiled. But she’d never take it for granted the way Whitney Collins seemed to. “I can’t say I felt drawn to her.” Harper Newman—yes. Whitney Collins—absolutely not.
“The woman’s toxic. Everything she touches turns bad. No one deserves to live in a toxic, soul-destroying relationship like that. I just wish Evan could figure a way out. To get away from her.”
“Whoa.” The fervor in his voice as he talked about toxic relationships reverberated through her. “She really upsets you, doesn’t she?” Charlie curled her feet onto the sofa, tucking them under the robe.
“Sorry.” His tension seemed to ease slightly as he puffed out a sigh. “Got carried away. It’s just stuff like that...”
“Reminds you of your parents?” she said softly, finishing for him when he trailed off. She wanted to touch him, to wrap her fluffy white robe around them both.
“Unfortunately, it does. I couldn’t help my parents, but I wish I could help Evan.”
“You help so many people every day. Thousands of lives have changed for the better because of you.” She smiled at him. “Look at me and my mom, for instance. Everything is different for us now.”
“Better too, I hope? Especially now that you have so many commissions falling into your lap.”
She wasn’t used to being the center of attention, but really, who wouldn’t be thrilled to be handpicked for greatness by Sebastian Montgomery?
Only her.
She must be crazy, and when she saw his frown, she rushed to say, “I can’t wait to start the dinosaurs for Noah. Next time I need a break from the horses, that’s what I’ll build.” She hoped it escaped his notice that she didn’t actually say her creative life was better. She was sure she’d feel that way once she got over her weird reticence.
“We should figure out a price tag for the works you’ve already got in stock. And then—”
She broke in, almost sharply, without thinking through her words. “I’m not charging for the dino. Or for anything else one of your friends might want.” She tried to temper her tone with a smile, adding, “They were all so welcoming. So nice.”
“That’s the Mavericks for you.” Though he seemed a little taken aback by her strong reaction to the idea of putting a price on her work, his voice was gentle. “I could tell they loved you.”
“I know your childhood was really hard, but the family you created as an adult is amazing. You’re very lucky, Sebastian.”
“Luckier than I ever thought I’d be.” With the softening of his voice and the way he looked so deeply into her eyes, it felt as if he was saying how lucky he’d been to find her too. “Speaking of family, after you told me your mom finally got a spot at the new facility, I looked at the website and made a few calls. You’ve said the place will be great for her, and from everything I’ve seen and everyone I’ve spoken to, I think you’re right. But the start-up cost and the monthly fees are astronomical.”
She’d given him the good news about her mother’s move-in date during one of their calls while he was in England. She’d chosen that moment so he wouldn’t see how green at the gills she’d turned at the thought of paying those monthly bills. Making love with him tonight had been so good, and she’d felt so loose, so free and happy, but between talk of all her possible future commissions and the money for her mother’s care, her stomach was quickly knotting around the chocolate, strawberries, and champagne.