“Now.” He took her mouth and her body in duel of simultaneous thrusts. His growl filled her lungs and vibrated to her core.
The shock of his sudden penetration stretched her, filled her and sent a Niagara of release rushing over her. She twisted her mouth free to gasp for breath and held him tight as the cataclysm overtook her to the beat of his hard, deep, rapid thrusts.
He bowed his back, bent and sucked her earlobe between his lips. She’d never felt anything more erotic in her life than the swirl of his tongue combined with the steam of his breath on her neck, the swivel of his h*ps and the powerful surge of his body into hers. His tempo increased, and her tension renewed. Another cli**x gathered so swiftly she had no chance of holding back, no chance of prolonging the moment, and then it rained over her like a sudden, violent cloud burst.
Mitch’s groan echoed her cry in the big room and then his body collapsed onto hers. Panting for breath, she twined her arms around him and held him close, relishing his weight and the hammering of his heart against hers. She ran her fingertips along his sweat-slicked spine. His shudder made her smile.
She’d had good sex before. She’d even had what she’d considered great sex. Until now. But she’d never experienced anything like this.
Mitch Kincaid had marked her for life.
And she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or merely the promise of another disaster in her future. One far more devastating than any of its predecessors.
Mitch stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out where he’d miscalculated.Carly was simply another woman he’d slept with. With wealth came women—plenty of women—who’d do whatever a man wanted. A fact his father had taken advantage of too many times to count. Only the last time, it had blown up in his face.
Which brought Mitch back to his present predicament.
He had a plan to execute. Emotion played no part in it.
He wasn’t supposed to lose control.
But he had.
He was screwing Carly both literally and figuratively. How twisted did it make him to have enjoyed the process so much that he’d momentarily lost sight of his goal?
Seduce her. Propose. Get custody of Rhett.
His marriage to Carly would be a good one. Short. But good. One he intended to dissolve as soon as the ink dried on the adoption papers.
A twinge of guilt made him want to slide out from under the woman dozing so trustingly on his shoulder and hit the shower. He dismissed the feeling. He wasn’t breaking any laws. And in this case, Carly and Rhett would be better off once the dust settled.
Despite Carly’s protests, Mitch still believed she’d tire of the mommy game. Not that she’d shown any signs of doing so yet. But she would. He’d bet his share of KCL on it.
Why wouldn’t she prefer her freedom when she could have all the benefits of Kincaid money via a generous divorce settlement and none of the obligations?
His mother had done something very similar. She may have stayed in the marriage, but she’d been an indifferent mother at best, one who’d turned their care over to a series of nannies, and Mrs. Duncan, then gone about her life as unfettered by parenthood as possible despite her middle child’s attempts to gain her attention.
No. Getting rid of Carly was the right thing to do, and he doubted he’d need whatever Frank Lewis dug up to convince her to move on. If the P.I. found anything.
Carly snuffled in her sleep. Her breath tickled the hair on his chest and the fingers she’d rested just below his navel contracted. The ankle hooked over his calf slid languorously down to his foot and then back up to his knee.
His body tensed and responded as if he hadn’t just been sated out of his skull. Would they have time for round two before the rug rat awoke from his nap? Before he could lift his wrist to check his watch, Rhett’s cry penetrated the closed door.
Carly stiffened. Eager to escape the awkward postmortem—at least until he got his head screwed on straight—Mitch buried his mouth in the silky, coconut-scented hair next to her ear. “Go back to sleep. I’ll get him.”
He eased Carly onto the pillow beside him.
“You’re sure?” Her drowsy, throaty voice and heavy-lidded eyes hit a bull’s-eye on his libido. He wouldn’t have to worry about the physical side of their marriage. If today was any indication, the sex would be phenomenal. Not that he intended to cheat, but it was nice to know he wouldn’t want to.
“Got it covered.” He climbed from the bed and took a good look at her. Once he had his game face back on, he’d take the time to enjoy every inch of her lithe, curvy body. He pulled the sheet over her before he said to hell with the crying kid and took what he wanted. The way he would have done earlier if Carly hadn’t slowed him down.
Where in the hell had his restraint gone? The slow seduction he’d planned had taken a NASA rocket out of sight.
Another squawk from the blue room grabbed his attention. He knew from experience the kid started quietly but then opened up to full-throttle screaming.
Mitch yanked on his clothes and strode down the hall.
Rhett stood in his crib, sleepily scrubbing his eyes with his little fists. He spotted Mitch and stretched out his stubby arms. “Mitt. My Mitt.”
Mitch’s heart clenched. Something stuck in his throat. He cleared it. Rhett copied him and then beamed and chortled. Mitch gritted his teeth against a flood of emotion.
Okay, so maybe he was getting attached to the squirt. But that was okay. Soon Rhett would be a permanent member of the Kincaid household.
And Carly would be gone.
He shoved that thought aside and reached for Rhett. The kid latched on with a strangling grip. Mitch pried him loose and shoved a stuffed alligator in the kid’s paws. He made quick work of the diaper change and then hefted the kid over his head. Rhett rewarded him with a gurgling laugh.
“What do you say we have lunch, kid?”
He jogged down the stairs, jostling the little baggage, and Rhett giggled. Mitch caught himself grinning back. He marched into the kitchen. Mrs. Duncan turned. Her penciled eyebrows rose and her mouth thinned, reminding Mitch he hadn’t bothered to check the mirror. With the way Carly had run her fingers through his hair, he probably looked like an unruly hedge. And then he noticed his polo shirt was wrong-side out. Busted.
“Carly’s napping. We need lunch.”
“Yes, sir.” There was a bite to her words he hadn’t heard before. If she’d guessed what went on upstairs, she didn’t approve.
Tough. She worked for him. He didn’t need her approval.
He strapped Rhett into his high chair and dumped some of the diced fruit and cheese Carly kept in the refrigerator onto the tray and filled the kid’s cup. It might have been years since he’d done this routine task for Travis, but his memory hadn’t failed.
Mrs. Duncan prepared his meal in silence. She’d never been the talkative type, but this silence screamed disapproval.
“Would you keep an eye on Rhett while I wash up?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mitch strode to his study, closed the door and righted his shirt. The red light blinking on the answering machine to his—formerly his father’s—private line caught his attention. He rarely used this phone and had intended to have the line disconnected, but hadn’t made the call to the utility company yet. He crossed the room and punched the Play button.
“Kincaid, I hit the mother lode on Carly Corbin.” Frank Lewis’s voice filled the room. Mitch’s heart pumped faster, and lava settled in the pit of his stomach. “I need more time to follow up. I’ll get back with you when I’ve filled in the blanks.”
What could Carly possibly have in her past to put that note of excitement in the P.I.’s voice?
Part of him wanted to know.
But part of him didn’t. And that part concerned him most. Weakness led to defeat. Or so his father always claimed.
He hit the Erase button and then paced into the adjoining bathroom where he mechanically combed his hair and washed his face. He braced his hands on the counter. The man in the mirror staring back at him looked the same.
But where was the get-the-job-done edge?
He’d wanted dirt on Carly, hadn’t he?
So why wasn’t he pleased to know he might not have to marry her to get the boy?
Mitch’s green gaze crashed into Carly’s the minute she entered the kitchen. Her cheeks flushed, and her face wasn’t the only part of her warming up. Every area he’d touched made its presence known and his scent still clung to her skin, filling her nose with each breath.Like a true gentleman he rose and pulled out a chair for her beside a happily babbling, food-stuffing Rhett. She crossed the room, hyperconscious of Mitch’s visual caress of her br**sts, h*ps and legs. When his gaze returned to hers the knowledge of the intimacy they’d shared flashed in his eyes. Her pulse tripped wildly and her palms moistened.
But other than that fleeting reaction which passed so quickly she could have imagined it, he offered no cue on how to handle their status change in front of the housekeeper.
“Hi.” A crazy shyness stole the rest of her words.
Mitch nodded, but there was no secret smile or even a softening of his stoic features. He didn’t lean down to kiss her cheek as she slid into her seat or even touch her shoulder. He returned to his end of the table and picked up the thick toasted sandwich on the table in front of him. He ate with one hand and sorted through the mail stacked beside his plate with the other.
Okay, this was awkward. She’d had morning afters before, but never midday and she’d never shared one with an audience. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. She felt as if she’d been dismissed and that stung far more than it should have.
You’re falling for him.
Could it be true? Did she more than just like and desire Mitch Kincaid? The leaden sensation in the pit of her stomach delivered the answer.
Desperate for a distraction Carly abruptly diverted her attention to Rhett. She blew him a kiss and received a messy grin in return. As it so often did, her heart swelled with love for this precious child and it ached with sadness that her sister wouldn’t be around to see her son grow up. Mitch would, and if Carly had anything to say about it, Rhett’s other siblings would also be a part of his life. Because of the terms of the will, he’d have to wait a year to meet his half sister, but that was twelve months during which he could bond with his brothers.
Twelve months in which Carly could get her heart broken.
Again.
Was this a rebound romance or something more? Could she and Mitch give Rhett a stable home and maybe even brothers and sisters? Where did they go from here?
Her gaze strayed back to the man at the opposite end of the table. His expressionless face gave no clue. Uneasiness stirred inside her and tension invaded her muscles. Did he expect her to act as if nothing had happened?
Did he regret making love with her? Did the intimacy mean nothing to him? Did he think it meant nothing to her?
Did he think she was easy?
Old taunts and accusations drifted through her mind like ghosts, chilling her, haunting her.
“Is turkey salad okay with you, Carly?” Della’s question rescued Carly from her painful past.
“Yes, thank you, Della.”