Grill Me, Baby (27 page)

“I know, and I appreciate it.” Michaela gave him a grateful smile. “I wanted to make sure they were settled in their rooms, but Tiffany pushed me out of there. She insisted on staying with them so I could go home and rest a bit. And she promised to call me if anything came up.”

“Good. I agree with Tiffany. Rest and then come back. Let’s go.” He took her elbow and led her out the sliding glass doors toward the parking lot into the warm night air. 

“Wait a minute. I’m parked on the other side,” Michaela said, trying to slow his progress, but Paolo didn’t break stride. He reached the passenger side of his car and opened the door, paying no heed to what she had just said.

“I’m taking you home.” He quietly uttered the statement as a fact. “I’ll come back early tomorrow and drive you over so you can pick up your car.”

“But…” 

“Don’t argue for once, Maki. You are tired and have had a rough day. You shouldn’t be driving. Now, please, get inside.” Paolo helped her into the car and leaned over to buckle her in before going around to the other side. She wondered at the way he was treating her as if she were fragile cargo. Gone was his usual deep-dimpled grin and sexy Latin drawl, replaced by a serious, reflective manner. 

The drive to her apartment didn’t take long, but emotionally it felt like a lifetime as she reveled in the fact that she loved him. Paolo had generously stayed beside her all evening, bolstering her spirits with his upbeat, comforting presence during one of the loneliest, most anguished moments of her life. He had moved her deeply by showing how much he cared for her. For the first time ever, Michaela felt cherished and protected by a man and the feeling was utterly intoxicating, especially since that man was Paolo.

She didn’t want him to leave and come back in the morning. She wanted him to stay with her all night. If he did, they would surely be intimate and the heady anticipation made her jittery with excitement, wondering how it would all turn out. Paolo’s lovemaking would lodge him deep inside the private place she had kept shuttered, protected from anything or anyone who might hurt her as badly as Jeff had. Once she let Paolo in, there would be no turning back. 

She stole a sidelong glance at his shadowed face as he drove quietly, his attention focused on the highway ahead. When they arrived at her apartment building, he parked the car and turned to face her. His eyes glowed like coals in his taut face. “I did a lot of thinking while I waited for you to come out tonight.”

“What did you think about?” she whispered, her throat clogging with emotion.

“You…and me.” He dragged a hand roughly through his thick hair. “Maki, I’m through playing games. As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine.”

Michaela gazed into Paolo’s stunning eyes, touched by the ardent way he had said she was his. She already knew this; there was no denying it now. She reflected on how fleeting life could be, evidenced by her aunts’ untimely accident. Dear Aunt Willow was right.
Without the lovin’, life ain’t worth livin’.

Taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, she asked, “Will you stay with me tonight—all night?” 

“I’d like nothing more,” he said gruffly. 

“Good, because I don’t want you to leave.” Sitting beside this gorgeous man, breathing in air laden with honeyed sexual tension, she knew she had made the right decision. 

“If I stay with you,
querida
, there will be no getting rid of me,” he warned her softly, a slow, sexy smile spreading over his face. 

Paolo’s passion was so palpable, it saturated the air and robbed her of oxygen. Michaela’s heart fluttered riotously and she gulped deep breaths, sucking weighted air into her suddenly constricted lungs as she imagined the deliciousness of complete surrender to him. 

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine,” she repeated his words to her with a tender smile. 

When they reached her apartment door, Michaela fumbled with the lock, letting out a near-hysterical yelp when it wouldn’t budge. Paolo covered her hand with his and with a soft click, the door gave way. She gasped when his warm, engulfing touch sent wild vibrations skittering inside her. She wanted him so badly, she almost flung herself at him right there at the threshold. 

Paolo’s head dipped and when his lips touched hers, Michaela couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, “Make love to me. I want you.”

He held her face in his hands as he kissed her. Hot, sweet and spicy, his mouth on hers stoked a fire deep in her belly. She yanked at his shirt with closed fists, pulling him closer as they backed into her apartment until they reached the living room and the back of her thighs hit the sofa’s edge. The loud thud of her heartbeat turned into thunderous pounding as Paolo eased her onto the sofa. 

He knelt before her and pulled down the straps of her dress and bra until her breasts lay before him, bare and tilting upward, beckoning his attention. Her body thrummed and pulsated as he kissed the tips, his tongue swirling and circling her nipples until she almost climaxed from the wet assault.

“
Qué bella
,” he groaned. His lips never left hers as he lifted her skirt and pulled her panties off. His hands slid up and down the length of her bare legs, petting her with long sweeping caresses. His fingertips lightly circled her slick feminine core until she was writhing helplessly. Michaela panted, her chest heaving and close to bursting, as she wound her fingers in Paolo’s satiny hair. 

“Take me,” she implored, her torso arching upward as she clawed at his shoulders.

“Not here.”

Paolo carried her into her bedroom. He flung the comforter aside and tumbled into bed with her, kissing her, caressing her body until she was out of her mind with wanting him. She whimpered when he tore himself away briefly to get a condom from his wallet. He made short work of shedding his clothes and pulling on the condom. His body was big and strong, corded with hard muscle and sinew.

He returned to the bed and Michaela wrapped her arms around his broad back, molding herself beneath his solid weight. Paolo’s hungry palms slid under her bottom and hoisted her upward as he knelt between her thighs and slowly eased inside. The cords in his neck strained as he waited until she adjusted to him before he continued. Michaela’s pelvis arched upward and she cried out as his deep thrusts touched her sweet spot repeatedly until she was bucking wildly beneath him. Her fingers dug into his buttocks as he rode her with steady thrusts and she was certain she couldn’t take any more pleasure without dying. He looked deep in her eyes, his face ravaged with lust and need, and suddenly she shattered with a keening sob. 

“Maki,” Paolo murmured, his face flushed dark with passion, his eyes profoundly tender. Braced on his elbows, his biceps bulged as he pushed the damp strands from her face. He groaned, “
Te amo
,
”
and then burrowed even deeper inside until he let go with a hoarse roar. 

“I love you too.” She gazed at him through a blur of tears, happily replete with the feel of him still inside her. 

Paolo turned their bodies sideways and spooned her, his strong knees tucked behind hers. One brown hand languidly rested on the pale curve of her hip. Michaela smiled to herself. It was deliciously erotic and she loved it—the possessive way Paolo held her anchored against him. 

Michaela was the first to wake up. At six in the morning, she was ravenously hungry, not for food, but for Paolo. Never in her thirty years had she let go so completely. The second time they had made love had not been as rushed and vigorous as the first. In the darkness of her room, they had learned each other’s bodies, taking their time. Paolo was tender and passionate, everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Not wanting to awaken him, she tried to carefully extricate herself from his embrace, but his eyes opened and he tightened his hold on her.

“Hey, where are you going,
linda
?” he inquired in a satiated, lazy drawl. Paolo’s jet-black hair was mussed up and his jaw line was shadowed with morning bristle. He looked appetizing and wicked hot. He regarded her from beneath a heavy-lidded gaze, silently luring her back to bed.

Michaela’s heart swelled with joy as she gazed into his dark, slumberous eyes. “Oh, no you don’t. I have to get to the hospital to check on my aunts.” 

“You’re right.” He made a rueful face.

“Besides, I’m already sore in places I haven’t felt in a long while,” she added.

“Oh?” His black eyes glinted with devilish intent. “Perhaps you need a massage.”

“Perhaps,” she said coyly, running her hands over the light pelt of hair covering his broad chest.

“You’re in luck. I have had a lot of experience with massages lately. I’m just the one to deliver it.” He rolled her over onto her stomach and gave her two lusty smacks on her unprotected backside. 

“Hey! What was that?” she demanded, indignantly rearing up. Rude slaps on her bottom were the last kind of massage she had expected! 

“Slavic massage, Irina,” he growled in a Russian accent.

A guilty giggle escaped Michaela as Paolo rolled her over and pinned her beneath him, nuzzling her neck with his unshaven jaw. She slapped at his arm. “So you knew all along that it was me massaging you?” she asked incredulously.

Paolo nodded smugly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, embarrassed and not pleased at having the tables turned on her.

A delighted grin lit his face. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“Ooh, you are impossible!” She pushed at his chest when he burst into hearty chuckles. “And a handful.”

“So are you. A delectable one.” With a wicked grin, he cupped his hand, reminding her that he had just had a handful of her bottom moments earlier. “I never gave up on you, Maki. After the competition, I fully intended to make you mine.” 

“We’ll probably spend all our time fighting,” she stated, trying not to be enticed by those rakish dimples. “I’m a perfectionist and, and…”

“You are bossy, pig-headed, and a little
rabiosa
, but we both know I won’t be bossed around,” he interjected.

“Yes, well…”

“But we’ll work it out. I can’t think of anyone else I want to be with.”

“I feel the same way,” she admitted. “Even though you turn my orderly life upside down, Paolo.”

“And you center me,
amor
.” He flashed a cocky grin. “Sounds like a great combination to me.” 

“What about
Miami Spice
?” she said weakly. Michaela had already decided that she would do her utmost to win and then put it up to fate. No more putting work before her private life. There had to be a happy medium. She was through with being alone. She wanted love and marriage…and babies someday. But mostly she wanted Paolo. He had once told her that he hadn’t married because he hadn’t found a girl who’d put her husband and family first in her life. She wanted to loudly proclaim, “I am that girl!”

“The hell with
Miami Spice
. I want
you
.” His eyes flashed black fire as he held her enthralled, waiting for her answer.

“I’m yours, darling.” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his smiling mouth with gusto. “But we have to get going,” she said, remembering her aunts’ plight.

Michaela swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled her discarded dress over her head to shield her naked body from Paolo’s hungry gaze. Her muscles, some in quite intimate places, felt deliciously sore as she walked out of the bedroom with as much dignity as she could muster. She blushed when she saw her panties flung on the floor beside the sofa, recalling her total abandon. She had been so far gone with desire she had urged Paolo to take her right here on her pristine sofa. 

This time Michaela couldn’t blame it on champagne. She had been stone cold sober. Well, not really sober. She had been deliriously drunk with wanting him!

Chapter Twenty-One

Mikey was acting extra fussy this morning and had kept Claudia up most of the night. She was anxious for him to fall asleep so she could finally take a nap. She had just finished changing Mikey’s diaper and was trying to lull him asleep when she heard the insistent knock on the door. She hoisted her son’s squirming little body on her shoulder and headed toward it. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Did you forget your keys, Paolo?” Claudia demanded, flinging the door open. 

Bobby.
Claudia blinked. Her mouth fell open and her blood roared in her ears when she saw her husband standing before her. Shivers ran up and down her arms as if she had been caught naked in a blizzard. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Her husband had found her and caught her holding their baby. He was going to
kill
her for not telling him about Mikey.

“Bambi,” he said quietly. 

Claudia’s heart skipped a beat at hearing his nickname for her. He stretched out strong arms—arms that had once held her pressed against his heart while he crooned endearments. 

“Come here, baby.” Bobby’s deep voice hit her at her knees, crippling her with the potent urge to run into his arms and never let him go. His startling blue eyes held her immobile—crystal, sapphire ones that made her breath catch in her suddenly constricted throat.

“Bobby, what are you doing here?” she managed to whisper.

Her husband stood before her, long, muscular legs spread, head tilted to one side as he studied her intently. Bobby robbed her of her senses, just like he always had. But he looked different—more mature, tougher. In six months, Bobby had gone from cute guy to imposing man. When she didn’t move forward, he dropped his arms and nodded toward Mikey where he rested on Claudia’s shoulder, noisily sucking his thumb. He bridged the gap between them in one stride. 

“Is that our boy?” he asked.

Bobby’s question almost knocked her to the floor. He already
knew
about Mikey? How? When? A million questions raced through her mind, making her fidget and twitch nervously as she stared at him as if he were an apparition. Even though he was acting calm, she could feel the uncoiled tension in his hard body. The unspoken truth about their baby was a massive weight bearing down on her chest, fraying her last nerve.