After this time together, that he was so successful and she was so definitely not didn’t worry her so much. His state of mind, as far as commitment was concerned, did. She’d briefly wondered whether he might want to find a wife and adopt that little boy he’d spoken about. But Mateo was married to his career and wanted to keep it that way. He’d confessed he was too busy for a family of his own. Too selfish.
Despite his mansion back home and all his lavish possessions, she couldn’t believe he was self-centered. Although Mateo kept him well hidden, the orphaned boy he’d once been was still there deep inside. The boy who’d had no one and nothing. She felt the bracelet heavy on her wrist and smiled softly. People had different ways of dealing with the past.
The adjoining door fanned open and Bailey, brought back, pushed herself to her feet. Mateo entered the room carrying a silver service tray holding two champagne flutes and a dish of sliced pear. At the sight of him, the tips of her breasts tingled and her blood instantly heated. But for the white serving cloth draped over his forearm, he was naked.
Her gaze drank him in … tall, toned and completely comfortable in his own gorgeous bronzed skin.
“I hope you didn’t answer the door to room service dressed like that,” she said, holding off tightening her robe’s sash.
“I doubt they’d bat an eye.”
With his gaze lidded and hot, he sauntered closer. After placing the tray on a ledge next to the bath, he poured the champagne then handed over a flute. The glasses pinged as they touched.
“To Paris,” he said.
“To Paris,” she agreed and sipped.
As the bubbles fizzed on her tongue then slid down her throat, Mateo selected the largest piece of pear, bit in and watched juice sluice down his thumb.
“Delicious,” he said and licked his lips.
He offered her a taste. But when she moved to take a bite, he lowered the fruit and touched the piece to the hollow of her throat, drawing a calculated circle before sliding the pear farther down.
Pulse rate climbing, Bailey closed her eyes and waited for the cool to glide between the dip of her cleavage, under the folds of her robe. Instead Mateo lowered his head and sucked at the juice slipping a single line down her throat.
Soaking up each and every thrilling sensation, Bailey sighed and let her neck rock back.
As his mouth slid lower, the sash at her waist was released. A moment later, cool air feathered over her exposed breasts, her thighs, at the same time a big palm trailed the plane of her quivering belly then higher, over her ribs and tender swell of each breast.
He nipped her lower lip and spoke of the near overflowing tub. “That bath needs attention.”
Winding her arms around his neck, she whispered in his ear, “Me first.”
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