Million-Dollar Maverick

And then he caught the end of the towel and tugged on it.

Her breath got all tangled up in her chest as she made herself meet his eyes.

And he asked, soft and rough and low, “Do you want me to go?”

She should have said yes or even just nodded. There were so many reasons why she needed not to do anything foolish with him tonight.

Or any night, for that matter.

But the problem was, right at the moment, none of those reasons seemed the least bit important to her. None of them could hold a candle to the soft and yearning look in his eyes, the surprisingly tender curve of his sexy mouth, the way he took the towel from her hands and tossed it back over her shoulder in the general direction of the other one.

“Yes or no?” He pressed the question.

And, well, at that moment, by the fire, with him smelling so wonderful and looking at her in that focused, thrilling way, what else could she say but, “No, Nate. I want you to stay.”

He smiled then. Such a beautiful, open, true sort of smile. And he laid a hand on the side of her face, making a caress of the touch, fingers sliding back and then down over her hair, curving around her wet braid, bringing it forward over her shoulder.

And then reaching out his other hand, using his fingers so deftly, unbraiding and combing through the damp strands. “There,” he said at last. “Loose. Wet. Curling a little.”

She felt a smile tremble on her mouth. And all she could say was, “Oh, Nate...”

And he said, “That first day, back in January?”

“Yeah?” The single word escaped her lips as barely a whisper, a mere breath of sound.

“You had that heavy scarf covering the bottom of your face. And then you took it off. What’s that old Dwight Yoakum song? ‘Try Not to Look So Pretty.’ That was it—how I felt. I hoped you wouldn’t be so pretty. But you were. And you had that hat on, bright pink and green, with those three pom-poms that bounced every time you shook your head. And your hair, just little bits of it slipping out from under that hat, so soft and shiny, curling a little, making me think about getting my hands in it....”

She said, feeling hesitant, “You seemed so angry at me that day.”

He ran his index finger along the line of her jaw, setting off sparks, in a trail of sensation. “I had somewhere I needed to be.”

“I, um, kind of figured that.”

“I wasn’t prepared for you.” Gruffly, intently.

And then his eyes changed, moss to emerald, and he was leaning into her, cradling the back of her head in his big, warm hand.

And she was leaning his way, too.

And he was pulling her closer, taking her down with him onto the hearth, reaching out and pulling the towels in closer to make a pillow for her head.

She asked his name, “Nate?” And she was asking it against his warm, firm lips.

Because he was kissing her again and she was sighing, reaching her hungry hands up to thread her fingers into his damp hair. She was parting her lips for him, inviting his tongue to come inside.

And he was lifting a little, bracing on his forearms to keep from crushing her against the hard floor, his hands on either side of her face, cradling her, kissing her.

Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled and the rain kept coming down.

She didn’t care. There was only the warmth of the fire and the man in her arms, the man who could be so very aggravating, but also so tender and true and unbelievably sweet.

He lifted his head and he gazed down at her and she thought that his eyes were greener, deeper than ever right then. He opened that wonderful mouth to say something.

But he never got a word out.

Because right about then, they both realized that someone was knocking on the front door.

Chapter Three (#ulink_3cdd1bdb-0e34-5507-a149-25ae98f84922)

Nate stared down at Callie. He wanted to kiss her again, to go on kissing her. Maybe whoever was at the door would just go away.

But the knocking started in again. And then a woman’s voice called, “Callie? Callie, are you in there?”

Callie blinked up at him, her mouth swollen from his kisses. “I think that’s Faith....”

Bad words scrolled through his mind as he pushed back to his knees and rose, bending to offer a hand. She took it and he helped her up.

Once they were both on their feet, they just stood there, gaping at each other like a couple of sleepwalkers wakened suddenly in some public place. He took a slow breath and willed the bulge at his fly to subside. Just what he needed. Their neighbor knowing exactly what she’d interrupted, spreading the word that he and Callie had a thing going on. And, okay, yeah. He did have a thing for Callie. But it was a thing he’d never intended to act on....

The knock came again. “Callie?” cried a woman’s voice.

Callie called, “I’ll be right there!”

Both of them got to work smoothing their hair and straightening their still-damp clothes. Tucking in her snug T-shirt as she went, Callie headed for the door. Since he didn’t know what else to do, he trailed in her wake. She disengaged the lock and pulled the door back.

Faith, barefoot in a pale blue cotton maternity dress, stood dripping on the doorstep, holding a battery-powered lantern, a relieved-looking smile on her face. “You’re here. I’m so glad....”

Callie stepped back. “Come in, come in....”

Faith spotted Nate. “Hey there, Nathan.”

“Ahem. Hi, Faith.” He felt like a fool.

But Faith didn’t seem especially concerned with what he might be doing in the dark at Callie’s house. She said to Callie, “Actually, I came over to get you.”

Callie frowned. “Get me?”

Faith’s head bobbed up and down. “It’s happening. The baby’s coming. I’ve been timing contractions, getting everything ready. They’re four minutes apart, about fifty seconds each.”

“Active labor,” Callie said in a hushed, almost reverent tone.

And Faith chuckled, as if having a baby in the middle of a rainstorm with the phones out and no electricity was something kind of humorous. “I’ve been waiting for the phones to come on so I could call my mom and call you over. But the phones aren’t cooperating. And it feels to me like this baby is going to be born real soon now. I... Uh-oh.” She doubled over with a groan, her free hand moving to cradle her giant belly. “Here...comes another one....”

Callie took the lantern from her and shoved it at him. “Here.” Blinking, stunned, he took it. This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Nate stood there, holding the lantern high, gaping at the two of them in complete disbelief.