"Cheap bastard," he muttered, thinking of Claremont. He switched off the
spray and wrapped one of the bright-pink towels around his waist. He
intended to go back and dress in the dark, but when he opened the door,
he could see the light from the kitchen and hear Grace's still
sleep-husky voice singing about finding love, just in the nick of time.
While the first drops of rain pattered against the windows, he stepped
into the scent of bacon frying and coffee brewing. And the sight of
Grace wrapped in a short cotton robe the color of spring leaves. His
heart gave such a hard bounce of joy he was surprised it didn't simply
leap out of his throat and land quivering in her hands.
He moved quick and quiet, so that when he wrapped his arms around her,
pressed his lips to the top of her head, she jolted in surprise.
"I told you to go back to sleep."
She leaned back against him, closing her eyes and absorbing the lovely
thrill of a kitchen embrace. "I wanted to fix you breakfast."
"You don't have to do things like that." He turned her around. "I don't
expect things like that. You need your rest."
"I wanted to do it." His hair was dripping, his chest gleaming with wet.
The sparkling gush of lust both delighted and shocked her. "Today's
special."
"I appreciate it." He bent, intending to give her one soft morning kiss.
But it deepened, lengthened until she was on her toes straining against
him.
He had to pull himself back, block off the rushing need to tug off the
robe and take her. "The bacon's going to burn," he murmured, and this
time pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'd better get dressed."
She turned the bacon briskly to give him time to cross the room. Anna
had been right, she thought, about having power. "Ethan?"
"Yeah?"
"I've got an awful lot of need for you stored up." She glanced over her
shoulder, and her smile was smug. "I hope you don't mind."
The blood danced gleefully out of his head. She wasn't just flirting,
she was challenging. He had a feeling she knew she'd already won. The
only safe answer he could think of was a grunt before he retreated to
the bedroom.
He wanted her. Grace did a quick dance and spin. They'd made love three
times, three beautiful, glorious times during the night, had slept
wrapped around each other. And he still wanted her.
It was the most beautiful morning of her life.
it rained all day. The water was rough as the tongue of a shrew and just
as likely to lash. Ethan fought to keep the boat on course and was glad
he hadn't let the boy come with them. He and Jim had worked in worse,
but he imagined Seth would have spent a good portion of the day hung
over the rail.
But foul weather couldn't spoil his mood. He whistled even as rain
slapped his face and the boat pitched under him like a rodeo bronc.
Jim eyed him sideways a few times. He'd worked with Ethan long enough to
know the boy was the friendly, good-natured sort. But a whistling fool
he wasn't. He smiled to himself as he hauled up another pot. Looked like
the boy did something more energetic than reading in bed last night, if