Beth Kery

“Aunt Meg, can I have a juice box?”

Megan blinked once. Twice. She staggered backward like a fool who had stood at the edge of a cliff and realized the idiocy of her intentions. “Uh…okay, Em. In a second. Say goodbye to Christian first.”

Christian didn’t miss a beat when the rambunctious little girl ran into his arms. He lifted her up high above his head until she was shrieking with joy.

“It was nice meeting you, Emily. I’ll see you sometime soon, okay?”

“When?” Emily asked enthusiastically. “Tomorrow?”

Christian swung her around once before he lowered her to the floor. Megan noticed with bewilderment that his expression easily matched the carefree happiness in Emily’s face. His moods shifted so quickly that Megan felt disoriented.

“Maybe. That’ll be up to your aunt. Now I’ll bet that you’re big enough to get a juice box out of the fridge yourself, aren’t you?”

His eyes swung to Megan’s for confirmation and Megan gave a tense nod. He gave her a playful swat and Emily scampered off toward the kitchen.

Megan swallowed uncomfortably when Christian raised himself to his full height. She tried to read his expression, but it was impenetrable once again.

“Thank you again. I hope that…”

Her inane words stilled in her throat when she realized he was coming toward her. His gait was predatory, his eyes were a barely banked flame. A muffled sound rose in her throat and she slowly began to back away from him until she bumped up against the wall behind her. He didn’t still his forward motion until she was trapped between the wall against her back and the almost equally hard wall of his body at her front. He placed his hands on the wall next to her head. His thumbs gently levered her face upward.

“You could have let me know, Megan,” he admonished in a low, gruff voice.

“Know what?” Unlike her breath, which was caught painfully in her lungs, Christian’s exhalation softly fanned her face, fragrant and warm.

“That you weren’t married. That Mr. SUV wasn’t your husband.”

The air finally released from her lungs as understanding dawned. “That’s Terry, my sister Hilary’s husband…Emily’s father. Emily’s been staying with me a lot while Hilary is at a sales conference.”

Christian nodded. His voice had sounded matter-of-fact, conversational, but the way he pressed his hips gently, but persuasively, into the softness of her flesh felt anything but run of the mill. The tiny part of her that was still capable of rational thought wondered why she didn’t feel alarmed. He felt hard against her, very male…indescribably good.

“Do you know I’m going to be thirty-four years old in a few months and I’ve never once in my life been with a married woman…at least never intentionally. Maybe it’s because of my Catholic upbringing or maybe it’s just because the hassle was never worth it, but I’ve never broken that code. I’ve never been tempted. Until just now.”

The sight of his lowering mouth mesmerized Megan. “But I’m not married,” she mumbled almost incoherently.

“Exactly,” he murmured.

“Uh…Christian, what are you doing?” Megan asked throatily when his lips were almost touching hers and their breaths were mingling intimately.

She saw his dark eyebrows go up at her question, but otherwise there was no sign of hesitation or retreat. His gaze never left her lips.

“Isn’t it obvious? Given the fact that I was about to go against my personal code of ethics and kiss the living hell out of you when I thought you were married, do you really believe I’d leave without at least tasting you now that I know you’re single?”