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Grinning wickedly, he stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “A good president is decisive. He decides on a goal and initiates a course of action to attain it.”
She nuzzled his hand, inhaling his delicious scent. “And what is your goal for the evening?” she asked. Her fingers skimmed the length of his spine, provoking shivers from him.
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and intense. “My goal for tonight is to get you into my bed,” he said in a husky voice. “And I am prepared to take any action to achieve that goal. Any action.” His hand traveled more boldly under her shirt even as he watched her with some caution in his eyes. “I hope that coincides with your goals.”
Elizabeth nearly laughed. Did he doubt her interest? Didn’t he know that he was just about irresistible when he was so tender and sweet and unbelievably sexy?
The hand stroking the skin of her back made it difficult to concentrate. “That coincides admirably with my goals,” she murmured, stroking her hand along his biceps.
“We never did complete the house tour,” he said.
She leaned toward him. “I am rather curious to see the master bedroom.”
He kissed his way up her neck. “It is”—kiss—“lovely. I think”—kiss—“you’ll particularly appreciate”—kiss—“the hand-carved mantelpiece.”
She tilted her head back to give him better access. “Mm-hmm…I do love a good mantelpiece.”
“And the slanted beadboard ceiling…” He kissed the soft skin under her jaw.
“Oh, I hope I get a good look at the ceiling…”
His words were emerging in ragged gasps. “And…uh…the bathroom has a tub…carved from a…single piece of marble.”
“Wow…” His lips finally found hers, and for a long moment there were no sounds save for moans of pleasure.
When he pulled away, his eyes were focused on her lips. “And…there’s a…lovely view…out the window…in the morning…when the s-sun rises…” He seemed to be having trouble forming words.
“Maybe I should join you now so I won’t miss it,” she whispered.
He swallowed hard. “How wonderful that our goals coincide.” Will took her hand and led her to the stairs.
Chapter Fifteen
“Cowabunga!”
Elizabeth was startled from a deep sleep by a shout that only gave a second’s warning before someone landed on the bed, sprawling all over her drowsing form.
The bed. Will’s bed. In Will’s bedroom. Where I spent the night. After…
Everything came back to her in a rush. Every detail of the night. Whatever other obstacles she and Will might encounter, a lack of chemistry wasn’t one of them. It had been off the charts.
Pemberley’s master bedroom was enormous, with a vaulted ceiling and huge windows overlooking the ocean. Weak, early morning sunshine peeked in around crisp linen curtains. The enormous canopy bed was of a scale with the room, dwarfing Elizabeth and the bed’s other inhabitant.
I actually slept with the President of the United States.
The thought made her a little lightheaded.
Who just jumped on top of me?
A slight blonde woman squawked at the sight of Elizabeth and quickly scrambled off the end of the bed. W
ill sat up and brushed hair from his eyes. The sheet fell to his waist, providing such a sufficiently distracting sight that Elizabeth momentarily forgot everything else.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” The young woman’s panicked noises drew Elizabeth’s attention. She had turned pink from her face, down her chest, and onto her arms and legs. “Oh my God, Will! I’m so sorry! I thought you were alone—you never—! I didn’t think—oh my God! I’m so, so sorry!
Will ran a hand through his delightfully disheveled hair and gave a bemused chuckle. “Elizabeth, this is my sister Georgiana. Georgie, this is Elizabeth Bennet.”
Georgiana’s mouth formed a perfect “o.” “I thought you said Elizabeth Bennet would never speak to you again. Although I guess you didn’t do a lot of speaking last night.” She immediately clapped both hands over her mouth. “Oh shit, did I say that out loud?”
