Page 44 of The Problem with Playboys

From down by his feet, Blue barked. He leaned down and scooped her up. “Chloe and I are trying to have a serious conversation, and you’re interrupting,” he said to the dog.

Chloe scratched behind Blue’s ears. “Maybe she just feels left out. She’s always wanting some affection.”

“Later.” Parker gave Blue a gentle squeeze, then put her down on the floor and reined Chloe in with his arms. “You are the object of my affection, Chloe Burnett. And I hope you let me show you.”

“I hope you’ll let me do the same. You deserve some sort of thanks for my necklace.” She kissed him softly, then drew her finger down the front of his shirt and popped open a button. And another.

They’d had plenty of wild interludes—Miami. The hotel hall. The limo. The living room. But something told him that tonight was for a different locale. He took her hand and began leading her in that direction. “Come on. This way.”

“The bedroom?”

“Yes, darling. Tonight is for making love.”