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“Did you nap a bit?”
“Not much,” she giggled. “Didn’t get much chance.”
“I’ll say,” he laughed, rolling on top of her. “Best nap I’ve had in a long time. At least the minutes I did get,” he teased, kissing her neck. “You’re insatiable.”
Elizabeth blushed. She’d lost count of the orgasms Canaan had given her. The man was a machine. He went on and on and was ready to go again with very little rest. It had to be a shifter thing. “We’ve spent way too much time in bed,” she said guiltily.
“No such thing.” He shook his head before leaning over her. He captured her lips in a sweet kiss. “I’m gonna make breakfast. I’m famished. You’ve worn me out, woman. Stay right here.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “No. I’ll get up and help.”
“Suit yourself, but one of these days, I will bring you breakfast in bed,” he whispered before kissing her again.
If he was trying to subtly hint that he wanted another night with her, he was failing. She understood exactly what he was asking. Elizabeth’s heart beat faster as she watched his naked form retreat from the bedroom. “Are you going to cover up?” she called out.
“Why? This is my house, and now, you’ve seen me naked a bunch of times. Might as well keep you interested.”
She covered her face with the pillow, laughing. “But nude cooking could be an issue.”
“I’m a shifter,” he called out. “I’ve got great dexterityandamazing reflexes.”
Did he ever. Their time together had been proof enough of that. Elizabeth hopped out of bed and grabbed one of her T-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts before joining Canaan in the kitchen. “And here I thought you would follow my lead and stay naked.”
She snorted. “I don’t think so. There are way too many windows around here. I’d be scared to cause a bird accident.” He arched a brow at her in question, and she mimicked a bird crashing into the window. “I don’t want any aviary deaths on my conscience.”
“You got it,” he chuckled. “Does that mean you don’t want eggs for breakfast?” he teased.
Elizabeth grabbed the dish towel and threw it at him. “You know what I mean. Eggs are fine.” She busied herself with the coffeemaker as Canaan continued to prepare their breakfast. She was once again struck by how easy it was to be around him. A question was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t know how to voice it.
We had sex, but what does that mean? Am I your mate now? Are we dating? Am I going to be yours forever?
The questions hung between them. The easiest thing to do would be to ask. Flat out. But Elizabeth had thrown herself at Canaan only a few hours before, and she didn’t know if she could go off on another limb, especially after he was clear about the timeline.
Canaan wanted her to think about the mate situation and wait untilafterrestoring her reputation. It made sense. It was sensible, even.
But Elizabeth didn’t want to be sensible. Not about this. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the rest of her days in the compound, working, gaming, and cooking with Canaan Wolverton. Was this what her mother felt every time she fell in love with her flavor of the month?
Surely not.
This was different.
This was the kind of bond that changed lives. It was the kind of connection that came once in a lifetimeifyou were so lucky.
Elizabeth mulled this over as they ate in pleasant quiet. Canaan probably had a lot on his mind too. He had indeed made love to her, and he was probably having his own set of feelings about it. She wanted to tap his hand and ask him theverypredictable, “What are you thinking?”
Just as she was gathering the courage to voice those four little words, the doorbell rang. Whoever stood on the porch was insistent and pushed the button over and over again. “Mel?” Elizabeth guessed with a smile. “Did we know she was coming over?”
“That’s not Mel. It’s Rylee.” Canaan cupped his naughty bits, red in the face and more than a little bashful. “Mind getting the door while I throw some clothes on?”
“Sure,” she smiled. “Hurry, though. She sounds like she’s in a mood.”
“It’s Rylee,” he laughed, retreating down the hallway, “she’s always in a mood.”
Elizabeth rushed to let her lawyer in, and as soon as Rylee was through the door, she bolted for the kitchen and threw open the fridge. She riffled through it until she found a bar of chocolate. She broke off a huge piece and stuffed it into her mouth, eyes closed and breathing ragged. “That’s so much better,” she said, finally turning toward Elizabeth. “Sorry, my blood sugar level was in serious trouble.”
“You do look a little pale. Is everything all right?”
Rylee waved her off. “I’m fine. I just had a rough morning.”
