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“No. It’s just that…” Dear God, was he going to propose?
He bent toward her, covering her mouth with his. She felt his tongue slide between her teeth.
“Careful,” she mumbled. “I have a mouthful of cheese and crackers.”
“Move over.” He stood up, discarded his towel, and climbed into the tub. He raised his glass, clinked it against hers. “To you.”
“Right back at you,” she said, taking a slow, careful sip of the bubbly liquid, wondering if she was going to find an engagement ring at the bottom of her glass. She’d have to be careful not to choke on it.
Would she say yes?
And was she seriously considering marrying a man she’d cheated on less than two hours ago? A man she’d been considering dumping?
Why not? Heather thought, imagining the look of shock and dismay on Paige’s face at the sight of her new engagement ring. She hoped the ring would be at least four carats, big enough to make an impression. She hoped Noah wouldn’t demand it back in the event she called off the wedding somewhere down the road. Of course, if she were to marry him, then it would be hers to keep, even if she decided against keeping the groom. Heather took another sip of champagne, looking for the telltale sparkle at the bottom of the glass.
But Noah was already removing the glass from her hand and depositing both slender flutes on the floor beside the tub. “Turn around,” he instructed.
What now?she thought, scooting into position, waiting for him to surround her with his arms, hold a diamond ring up to her eyes.
“Where’s the soap?” he said instead.
“What?”
“The soap,” he repeated. “What’d you do with it?”
She fished through the water, finding the soap between her legs and passing it over her shoulder.
“I’ll do your back,” he said.
“No,” she began. But he was already running his soapy hands across her shoulders and down her spine.
“What’s this?” he asked, stopping.
Heather held her breath. “What’s what?”
“There’s this big red mark.”
“There is?”
“Looks really sore. Can’t you feel it?” He pressed down on it with his thumb.
Heather bit her tongue to keep from crying out. “I guess I must have banged into something at work.”
“Looks pretty nasty. Poor baby,” he said, his hands leaving her back to massage her breasts. “How’s this feel?”
“Not bad,” she said.
“Just not bad?” he teased, pressing his erection against her.
“Why don’t we go into the bedroom?” she suggested, swiveling back around.
His response was to grab her legs and position them around his waist. “Why don’t we stay right here?”
“No, I’d really rather—”
“You’re always complaining I’m not spontaneous enough,” he said, his hands lifting her into position.
Really?she thought as he entered her. What was it tonight with men and bathrooms? Was there a full moon?
