Page 38 of Bryson

"I'm sure Barbara would not mind my company for a bit longer," he said with a charming smile at the woman.

"Of course not." Barbara beamed. "Go on up, my dear. I'm sure you're exhausted."

With a lifted brow at Brian, she left the room and went upstairs.

She was creaming her skin an hour later when Bryson came in.

"Hi." Coming up behind her, he kissed the back of her neck in greeting. "How was dinner?"

"Did you happen to see your mother and Brian still in the salon?"

"Which one?" He started stripping off his clothes and kicking them out of the way. "I came straight up here from the mudroom. I was filthy. We had to clean out the feeding troughs and there was a busted pipe in one of the cottages. Why do you ask?"

"I left them there. They seem to have hit it off."

He glanced over at her as he tugged the shirt over his head, his brow quirked.

"You sound displeased."

"No." Finishing the last twist of her hair, she gathered them all and snapped on a rubber band to hold them in place on top of her head. "Brian can be very charming, and he took it upon himself to give your mother the full works. They barely noticed I was at the dinner table. I've never seen your mother smile before."

"I'd say that's a good thing. If he's concentrating on my mother, he won't have time to have his hands all over you."

She gave him an arched look as she rose, slipped off her robe, and climbed into bed.

"You cannot possibly be jealous of Brian. Darling, he's gay."

"Is he?" Bryson muttered, feeling like a complete idiot. "It didn't seem that way when he was touching and kissing you. I wanted to hurt him."

Julianne laughed, eyes twinkling.

"It's not bloody funny." He sat to take off his socks, tossing them with the pile of clothing heaped on the floor.

"It kinda is. And cute too."

"Nothing cute about the way I imagined rearranging his pretty face." Standing, he slipped out of his underwear and had her staring. No matter how often she saw him, she would never get used to how magnificent his body was.

"Stop looking at me like that," he murmured, voice turning husky. "I'm trying to hold out for the wedding night."

Dragging her eyes away, she leaned back on the pillows and closed her eyes. "Go, then."

He stood there for a few seconds and was sorely tempted to climb into bed and slide into her. Shaking off the need, he scooped up his clothing and went into the bathroom. Adjusting the temperature, he stepped under the jet spray and closed his eyes, allowing the water to work out the kinks of weariness in his body.

In another two days he was getting married. In two days, Julianne was going to be his wife, bear his name. He could not wait. With a rueful laugh, he opened his eyes and was immediately reminded of the last time he had stood under the shower. She had come up behind him and blown his mind with her hands. Just her hands.

He stood there with the water beating down on him and half expected her to turn up again. In fact, his body instantly started yearning. He did not have to look down to know the reaction to his thoughts. He was already hard.

He was going to have to switch to a cold shower, he thought wryly. Adjusting the temperature again, he endured the icy coldwater on his skin and waited until he had shriveled enough before stepping out and reaching for a towel.

She was fast asleep. For a stunned minute, he stood at the side of the bed and stared at the sleeping woman. She was snoring softly, hands clasped under her cheek and in her usual fetal position, with her knees drawn up almost to her chin.

While he had been torturing himself in the shower, thinking and hoping that she would make an appearance, she had fallen asleep. With a rueful chuckle, he pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead before striding to the dresser to take out something to put on.

Sliding into bed, he slipped his arm under her shoulder and eased her into his arms. With her scent in his nostrils, he soon fell asleep with her tucked securely against him.

Bryson felt himself stiffening as the man came to stand next to him. He had left Julianne still sleeping, and after a hurried gallon of coffee, had been at it for the past two hours. He had assumed the man would be busy either charming his mother or chatting with Julianne.

"He looks spirited."