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She laughed and brought the quiche over, tugging out a drawer and removing a roll of plastic wrap to cover the leftovers. “I got that idea. He’s brilliant. So’s his daughter, Livy.”
Gravor’s eyes widened. “Daughter?”
“Olivia, though she prefers Livy—with friends. She’s eight. Your brother didn’t marry her mother. I think she was the product of a one-night stand.” Her gaze slid from mine, though I wasn’t sure why. “Anyway, her mom didn’t tell your brother he had a daughter. But her mom was killed in a car accident about a year ago, and since your brother was named as Livy’s father, he was notified. She’s amazing. Super smart and equally precocious, but a lot of fun.”
“Wow. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“She went with them on their honeymoon, so it’ll be a week or so, and then you three can get together.”
He had time to get used to the idea.
“Let’s finish cleaning up and you can get dressed,” I said. “It might be more comfortable wearing clothing than my shirts. Feel welcome to shower if you want. I tucked a few more things into the bag you might need, though you can skip the hair dye. I don’t know what got into me there.” My rueful laugh rang out. “Though you’d look good as a blond.”
He tugged on his raven’s wing hair. “You don’t like this color?” The tease in his voice made my smile widen.
“Actually, I love it.” Everything about him, actually. My heart seemed to be leading the way in all this. Would it be bad to fall for Gravor? He could hurt me again, though I got the idea he never would.
“I love your hair color.” He slid his hand underneath it at the back of my neck, fluffing the long strands. “It’s like the sunset, the sunrise, and every color of fall, all in one.” He traced his fingertips along my nape, and my skin prickled. Heat swirled through me, and it wouldn’t take much for me to tumble right back to where we’d left off five years ago.
I eased away from him, not quite ready for that yet, and grabbed the bag off the counter. “Come with me.” I marched toward the hallway.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a low husky voice that tickled my spine. “Tell me what you need.”
Oh, I needed a lot, but I wasn’t touching that or his comment with a ten-foot pole.
I continued into the bathroom with him following and placed the bag on the back of the toilet. “Pants, shirts, underwear—”
“Don’t wear the latter.”
“Some might find that icky.” Why did I find it sexy? Because I could too easily picture myself sliding his zipper down and releasing his cock that was unlike any other. Long, thick, and incredibly pleasing.
Don’t go there!
“It’s up to you if you want to wear the boxers,” I said, going for neutral. “I included some toiletries and other things.”
I started to ease around him, but like everything in my house, this room was small. I’d never envisioned sharing it with anyone but Asher.
Our chests brushed together.
He sucked in a breath, and his stormy eyes smoldered.
My damn nipples perked up and shouted hooray.
“I, um, yes . . . Yes.” So many yesses. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Tidying up. Covering the quiche. Putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Trying not to slump to the floor in . . .” Shit, I’d kept talking.
“Slump to the floor in what?” He tilted my chin with one finger, making me meet his gaze.
“So I’m horny,” I said brightly. “Don’t think anything of it.” With that, I scooted from the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that,” he growled.
I was sure he had. “Hear what?”
“What should we do about the hard-on your comment just created?”
I gulped, struggling to swallow, and slumped against the wall. Should I tell him to rub it out in the shower when I wanted to be the one doing the rubbing?
Not a good idea, Mazie. The last time he and I did some rubbing, I wound up pregnant. And that was with him using a condom. He had super sperm. They’d blasted through his defense and created Asher.
