"Better?" I asked quietly, my voice rougher than intended.
"A little." Her voice was thick, nasal, like she was half-asleep or suppressing something else.
So I kept going, lighter now, shifting from pain relief to comfort. In the darkness, only our breathing, and the warmth of Natalie's skin under my palm. I could smell her hair—faint shampoo scent mixed with something uniquely pregnancy-related, warm and faintly sweet—that scent seemed to have hands, crawling from my nose into my chest, down through my bloodstream, pooling in my groin.
"Richard." Natalie suddenly said my name.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
I lowered my head, looking at Natalie's profile. In the darkness, her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheekbones, a bit of uneven sweat still on her forehead, lips parted slightly. Her pajama collar had loosened from lying on her side, exposing the rise and fall of her chest below her collarbone with each breath.
Damn, I was achingly hard.
Natalie was just that tempting.
I wanted to fuck her.
That thought lasted three seconds.
Forget it.
I couldn't scare Natalie.
Otherwise, afterward, she'd probably go cold on me all over again.
I pressed my palm against the mattress edge, knuckles white. I pulled back slowly, keeping just within breathing distance, looking down at her. My breathing was heavier than I meant it to be. I controlled myself, letting the hardness subside. "Natalie, sleep. I'm right here."
I pulled the covers up for her—the moment I leaned down, that warm-sweet scent washed over me again, the curve of her face directly in my line of sight, lips slightly parted, her warm breath brushing my jaw. I was hard enough to burst through my zipper.
But I did nothing. I watched Natalie fall asleep, then took a cold shower.
The next morning, Olivia called.
"Richard, this Southeast Asia joint venture risk assessment—we need to discuss it in person. Some of the data is too complex for a phone call." Olivia's voice came through businesslike as always, as if her confession that day had never happened.
Actually, I was fine with that. Olivia was indeed my capable assistant. With me away from the office lately, she'd taken a lot off my plate.
"I've already reviewed the report. Initial comments are in your email. We can handle details in tomorrow's video conference." I stood at the study's floor-to-ceiling window, my gaze instinctively dropping to the garden below. Natalie was walking slowly with Joseph, one hand supporting her lower back. Six months pregnant, her body had changed noticeably, but to me, there was something achingly beautiful and fragile about it.
"Video conferences are too inefficient, and some sensitive information isn't appropriate for online discussion." Olivia paused, her voice lowering. "Richard, I know you have more important things to focus on right now. But there are developments at the company you need to handle personally. We need at least two hours. Uninterrupted."
Her point was reasonable—the European market did have issues requiring my direct attention.
But I glanced down at Natalie's figure. I didn't want to leave her side, didn't want her out of my sight.
"Next week, Olivia." I gave a vague timeline. "I'll come to the office next Wednesday."
Silence for a few seconds, then her emotionless voice. "Fine. Hopefully, nothing more urgent comes up before then. The final agreement with Atlas Energy—legal has it ready. You know deals at this level require your signature in person."
The Atlas Energy partnership was worth nearly ten billion, and negotiations had taken nearly a year. No room for error.
"Got it." I hung up.
But when Wednesday came and I got to the conference room, I was told the Atlas CEO's schedule was tight—his plane was taking off in forty minutes. Documents had to be signed andsubmitted before takeoff, or the whole deal would be pushed back three months and require renegotiation.
I didn't think it was a problem until I was nearly done signing when David called.
