Warm Hearts
“Caroline was sprawled half over Brendan, anchored by the dead weight of his arm and one very long, very masculine leg. With her hair tangled, her cheeks flushed and her lips moist and full, she was the image of a woman well loved. He, with half-lidded eyes and a curling grin, was the cat who’d gotten the cream and then some.
“I feel happy,” he announced just for the hell of it.
She was every bit as ebullient. “So do I. I should be feeling guilty or embarrassed, even horrified.” She raised her head and sought his gaze. “I don’t make a habit of going to bed with strange men.”
“I am not strange,” he assured her as he pressed her head back down. “And we didn’t go to bed.”
“All the more horrifying. On the rug.”
He gave a smug chuckle. “Actually, it was nice. Spontaneous. A little unusual, in keeping with our relationship.”
“What relationship? We barely know each other.”
“We do.”
“It’s only been eight days.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been involved with you for weeks.”
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