Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

N ick stirred around midnight, his dreamless sleep disturbed by a puff of air somewhere in the vicinity of his ear.

His eyelids cranked open a fraction, half-heartedly investigating the source of air, only to snap open as he registered a luscious woman draped over his upper torso, her arm flung proprietorially across his chest and a leg nudging the vicinity of his boxers.

Not just any woman.

Britt.

His wife.

Who he wanted something fierce.

Considering the chaste way they'd fallen asleep, he should gently slip out from under her and try not to wake her. But his good intentions evaporated when she snuggled closer, her knee edging towards a fast-growing boner, and he froze, gritting his teeth to stop from groaning out loud.

He could play the gentleman, but where was the fun in that?

Britt had always called him her bad boy and, while a small part of him had thought she only hung around him because she was tempted to slum it for a while, he'd liked the reputation. It had grown, fuelled by idle gossip of small-town inhabitants because he smoked, rode a motorbike, and lived in torn denim.

He'd heard the rumours, from his fictitious tattoo of skull-and-crossbones on his butt, to riding bare-chested all the way to Sydney. He'd laughed, silently appalled at how reputations could be made or broken by hearsay. Considering he'd been working his ass off trying to make the plantation stay afloat at the time, he hadn't cared.

Another puff of air, another small moan in her sleep, had him easing away before he did something he'd regret. Make no mistake, she'd been about to give him the 'don't think you can seduce me' talk last night before he'd cut her off. As if he wouldn't have got the message from seeing her in those libido-killing pyjamas.

She'd made her point and he'd be damned if he sat through it again, rehashing stuff he didn't agree with. The way he saw it, they could keep this marriage business focused while having fun too, but there was no way, no how he'd push the issue now.

Britt had made her feelings more than clear.

'Nick?'

Her sleepy whisper slammed into his consciousness, beckoning him to stay still. But he couldn't, he wouldn't take advantage of the situation no matter how turned on he was or how badly he wanted his wife.

'Shh, go back to sleep.'

He stroked her hair, a small part of him melting as she snuggled deeper and, rather than pull away, he cuddled her closer with his arm.

Her hair tickled his shoulder, her cheek, so soft and warm, pressed against his chest, and the faintest scent of lavender and vanilla lulled him into believing that, for now, this had to be enough.