Friday's Child (25 page)

His grin was wicked. “This is called a sweetheart deal. We both get what we want. And all this is accompanied with the unprecedented offer of your lifetime use of my body. Of course, that would be a reciprocal agreement.”

She slid her hand to the back of his neck and urged his head down. “That would be
my
demand.”

He whispered against her lips, “I was hoping you'd say that.” Then his lips parted hers and the kiss shimmered through her like a promise. Slow. Deep. Devastatingly thorough. When he lifted his mouth from hers, Kate opened her eyes, sure she saw a reflection of her own dreams in his.

“I love you, Michael.” Certainty threaded through the
drugged sound of her voice. It had taken her a long time to identify it, to accept it, but there was no denying the genuine emotion coursing within her.

His face was still close to hers, so she saw the feeling cross his face. “I'm glad. Because I love you, too. It took me a while before I let my heart catch up with my head, but when I did, it was a hell of a collision. Remind me to tell you sometime about my first and—God willing—only panic attack.”

That sounded intriguing. “What?”

His kiss was quick and hard. “Later. Right now, you need rest.”

Her protest slid down her throat when he rose from the bed and shucked his jeans, then crossed to the door to shut it.

He looked good painted with moonlight, she thought achingly. The light splintering through the darkness of the room adorned muscle and sinew with a patchwork of silver. Rounding the bed, he climbed in beside her and helped her to her side so that her back was nestled against his chest. Taking great care not to jar her other ankle, he stretched his legs out, and his hand went to her hip, caressing gently.

“Michael.” The word was a whisper of sound in the night.

“I'm still not tired.”

His voice was a low rumble in her ear. “You need to sleep.”

In answer, she took his hand in hers and brought it to her mouth, worrying the pad of one finger with her teeth.

His breathing faltered. “I'm not sure that this is what the doctor ordered.”

“A good CEO,” she said, pressing a kiss to his palm, “makes rules rather than follows them.”

“Excellent point.” Her hair was lifted out of the way so that he could string a trail of kisses from her nape to her ear. He took the lobe in his lips and scraped it lightly with his teeth. She shuddered, her legs moving restlessly.

She turned her head so that her mouth could find his. Her lips clung, moist and hungry, urging him to take more. There was pleasure to be savored in the rock-hard body pressed
tightly against hers, in the faint tremors that hinted of a desire kept tightly under control.

His lips moved to her shoulder and he slid his hand up under the edge of the T-shirt she was wearing. His fingers closed on her nipple and his touch scorched a path to her womb. She whimpered, wiggling closer to him, and he seemed to understand her urgency. He ran his hand down the center of her body and cupped her.

When the first explosion rocked her, her back stiffened, shudders breaking over her in waves. Then he was lifting her uninjured leg so that it was braced against the mattress. She felt the blunt tip of his sex probing her, and she gave a murmur of satisfied pleasure, one that quickly turned to a gasp as he slid deeply inside her.

“Don't move,” he murmured in her ear. His hands were stroking over her breasts, her stomach. “I don't want you to hurt your ribs. Just let me…” He drew his length partially out of her slick, wet femininity before sinking back in.

Her breath came in whimpers, and she pressed back against him, silently demanding.

He kept his hand on her stomach to anchor her to him, his hips rocking gently against her bottom, his shaft within her pulsing in rhythm to the aftershocks that gripped her. His powerful hips moved lazily, purposefully against hers. She could feel him deep inside, the length of him touching off tiny pinpoints of pleasure until all her senses, all her nerves seemed centered at the point where they joined.

Their position was at once frustrating and exciting. She couldn't see him, couldn't touch him. All she could do was feel and ride each bright sensation he created to its pinnacle.

His hand drifted downward, burrowing in the moist tangle of hair between her thighs. He parted her with his fingers, unerringly finding the tight bundle of nerves hidden between the soft folds. It was exquisitely sensitive, and she whimpered, trying to move against him.

His hard body against hers kept her immobile. “Easy,” he breathed in her ear, his voice strained. “Let me, baby. Just…easy now…”

His control slipped, unveiling a measure of desperation. His movements grew faster, deeper. She rocked against him and his fingers clenched her hips, driving hard. That was all it took to hurl them both to completion.

I
t took bullying, cajoling and the shameless use of wiles she hadn't known she'd possessed, but Kate managed to convince Michael to allow her to have breakfast downstairs the next morning. Unexpectedly, it had been Trask who'd proven her ally. When he'd brought Chloe to her bedroom, he'd overheard part of the argument.

“I don't see the harm,” he'd shocked them both by saying. When the two of them had looked at him, he'd turned a deep, dark red. “Can't hurt,” he'd mumbled. Chloe had gleefully agreed.

So Kate found herself stretched out on the couch in the family room with a lightweight quilt spread over her and too many pillows at her back. But the scrambled eggs and toast Trask made tasted like heaven in her new location, and they indulged in an informal picnic. Chloe was ecstatic at the idea of being allowed to eat in a room other than the kitchen, although Michael warned her repeatedly not to expect it to happen again.

It was a relaxing time, with Michael sitting on the floor next to her, her hand between both of his, fussing over how
little she ate. Chloe distracted them by doing a cartwheel she'd been practicing in gymnastics, barely missing hitting her head on the edge of an end table. Trask distracted her with her markers and paper and she busily began drawing.

“Enjoy it,” Michael advised Kate wryly as they watched the little girl bent over her paper in concentration. “The times she's actually as quiet as this are few and far between.”

“I think I'll manage.”

His face grew more serious. “I've been thinking about the coming school year. I thought maybe we could wait until the first conference and listen to what Chloe's new teacher has to say about her progress. If she hasn't improved any, I'll be willing to discuss medication then.”

Her fingers laced with his, and it took very little urging for him to lean closer for her kiss. “Chloe Friday,” she uttered softly, “is very lucky to have you watching out for her.”

His eyes lit up. “What about Kate Rose? Is she lucky, too?”

Her brow rested against his. “Very.”

“I'm glad you feel that way. Because I arranged a little surprise for you.”

Her sudden suspicion must have shown on her face because he started talking faster. “I thought it was time to introduce myself to your family.”

The introduction of that subject hit her like a fast curveball. “My family? Why?” He should have saved the angelic look. It didn't settle well on that rough-hewn face. At any rate, she was too familiar with his tactics to buy it.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. After all, they're going to be my in-laws. I called your oldest brother, and he had your father call me back yesterday.”

Suddenly all the simple happiness was leached from the day. Her voice was as flat when she inquired, “And?”

“I introduced myself. He was…impressed. I think he approves of me.”

“I'll bet,” she muttered. Her father's approval would correlate closely with his idea of Michael's success. He would
be dazzled if he guessed even a fraction of Michael's worth. Money would sway him in a way emotion never would.

“The surprise, though, will be here next week. Actually, we'll bring them here in five days.”

It took a moment for her brain to click onto his meaning. Even when it did, she was afraid to let herself believe it. “Them?”

His face was as hopeful as a little boy's when he replied, “Your brothers and sisters. From something you said once, I thought you'd like to have them visit, alone, so after we talked awhile, I ran it by your father. He was a little reluctant at first, but when I told him how much room I had…” His words were choked off when she threw her arms around his neck and hugged tight. “I'm hoping your reaction means you like this surprise better than my last one.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she nodded furiously. Loosening her arms, she looked at him with every ounce of the love she felt squeezing her heart. “You couldn't have given me anything I'd value more.”

His hand went to her hair, pushed it away from her face, then cupped her jaw lightly. “I'm glad, honey. And I'm hoping this will be the first of many visits they make here. Heck, we have enough bedrooms. They could each have their own. Of course, that means we're going to have to go furniture shopping again.”

Her smile only trembled a little. Leave it to Michael to think of family, to understand how much this time with her brothers and sisters meant to her. She moved her head slightly, pressed a kiss to his palm and watched his eyes go lambent.

“Ahem.”

They looked at Chloe, who stood up and approached them with her paper in her hand. “I'm done with my plans and now I will show them to you. No whispering, please,” she intoned when Michael turned to grin at Kate. “I will need your eyes and ears up here. Remember, our ears and our mouths can't work at the same time.”

“Oh, Lord,” Kate muttered as her own words in the class
room came back to haunt her. Michael's shoulders shook silently.

Chloe peered at both of them until she was assured of their attention and then went on. “You know Mommy is getting married again.” She frowned. “She kept it a sa-prise for a very, very long time, and I don't think that was very nice, 'cuz I didn't get to help plan anything, not even my dress.” Her face showed her displeasure with that lapse.

“What'd you do, sweetheart, design your own dress?” asked Michael indulgently.

“No, Daddy, I planned your wedding. Here you are in your nicest clothes.” She held up a picture of Michael in his jeans and a bright yellow T-shirt. “And here is your bride.” They looked at the picture of a barefoot woman in a long white gown.

“Uh…do you have someone in mind for that position, bug?” Michael wanted to know.

“Da-a-d. Just look at the picture.” She shook it impatiently. “It's Miss Rose, of course. She can be your happy bride and you can get married tomorrow and live happily ever after and get me a puppy.”

“Pretty slick the way she worked that last part in, don't you think?” he asked Kate.

She nodded, bemused.

“Of course, first you gotta get in love.” Chloe peered at them anxiously. “You're not supposed to have a wedding without getting in love.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then beamed at them. “Maybe you can get married Saturday, after cartoons.”

“Well, first of all, squirt,” Michael tried to tell her, “weddings take lots of time to plan. You can't just decide to get married in a few days.”

Her bottom lip jutted out. “I did lots of planning,” she informed them. “We still have some food from your boring party and people could eat that. And then we could all go on a hommeymoon to Disneyland.”

Trask gave a sound suspiciously like a snort of laughter,
but it was impossible to be sure because his face was buried in his hand.

“This is fair,” Chloe reminded them. “I didn't get to pick Mommy's new husband, so I should get to pick your new wife, Daddy.” She watched them both anxiously. “It's very fair.”

Michael grinned up at Kate. “How about it, Miss Rose? Is this the most romantic offer you've ever had, or what?”

Kate caught Chloe's earnest hazel gaze and her eyes began to pool. Here was everything she'd lacked in her life, and she had almost been afraid to accept it. But these two had seeped under her defenses, filled a void she'd never had a name for. Now there was only one possible answer.

“Your chief negotiator makes a persuasive case, but she left out some important conditions,” she said shakily.

Michael's brows rose. “Deal breakers?”

“Absolutely.”

“Better lay your terms on the table then.”

She tilted her head, pretended to consider. “My demands are simple, really. A lifetime contract with the CEO, with equal interest in the young negotiator over there.”

His hazel eyes glinted as he gave a slow nod. “Done.” And to the delight of the onlookers, the sweetheart deal was sealed with a kiss.