“Only fitting,” he agreed. “And since I’m the senior hound around these parts now, I need the very best. Tools, supplies…”
“Sunlight in the palm of your hand, day or night?”
“I was going to say…you.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks. Her body. Her heart. She lifted her hands to the buttons on his vest and eased the top one free. “You’ve been keeping your hands to yourself, Mr. Harding. I’ve been waiting for you to take me to bed in our new home, and then I remembered I told you I needed a few days to recover from the new moon.”
His fingers skated over the backs of her hands. “Indeed, that you did.” There was a strange confidence in familiar surroundings. It was so easy to urge him toward a chair and press him down with firm hands at his shoulders.
Hiking her skirts, she slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “In the future I’ll remember to issue my invitations more explicitly. Is this clear enough?” Wilder stared up at her solemnly. “Actually…” His hand crept up her thigh. “I’m still a little hazy on the details. Why don’t you explain it to me…at length?”
She could do that. Maybe for the rest of her days.