“I’m going to be a single mum.”

Nick sat back in his seat, looking stunned. “How? Who’s going to be the father?”

“I’m going to use a donor.”

After a long moment of silence, Nick said, “You really want to do it. Have a baby, I mean.”

“I really do.”

“What if I had a better way? For both of us.”

Both of them? She failed to see how her plan to have a baby could in any way benefit him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I know the perfect man to be the father of your baby. Someone who would actually be around. Someone willing to take financial responsibility for the rest of the baby’s life.”

Whoever this so-called perfect man was, he sounded too good to be true. “Oh, yeah?” she said. “Who?”

He leaned forward, his dark eyes serious. “Me.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to my new series, THE CAROSELLI INHERITANCE! And the next installment of my “Getting to know Michelle” reader letters.

Spring has always been my favorite time of year. For the past twenty-two years, since we bought our first house, it’s meant that it’s time to plant the vegetable garden. I’ve had many hobbies over the years—drawing, painting, crafts, crochet—but by far my favorite and most consistent is gardening.

First I have to decide what to plant. Around the middle of February I make a list of what we’ll need for the year, then I fire up the lights in the greenhouse in my basement, run to English Gardens for seeds and soil, and get to work. I’ve been starting my own plants for several years now, although I used to buy them, and though I know it sounds a little silly, each year it continues to amaze me to watch the tender little seedlings sprout, then grow into thriving plants.

Strangely enough, the actual planting is my least favorite part, and I can’t say I’m thrilled picking weeds either, but when I bite into that first big, juicy tomato, snap a crisp green bean or slice a tangy clove of fresh garlic, it’s worth the work! Though by now most of the plants are probably shriveled and dead—if I’m lucky I may still have a sprig or two of broccoli to pick—that’s okay. I get to start it all over again in a few months!

Best,

Michelle

About the Author

MICHELLE CELMER is a bestselling author of more than thirty books. When she’s not writing, she likes to spend time with her husband, kids, grandchildren and a menagerie of animals.

Michelle loves to hear from readers. Visit her website, www.michellecelmer.com, like her on Facebook, or write her at PO Box 300, Clawson, MI 48017, USA.

Caroselli’s
Christmas Baby

Michelle Celmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Steve, who truly is my hero.

Prologue

“As your attorney, and your friend, I have to say, Giuseppe, that I think this is a really bad idea.”

Giuseppe Caroselli sat in his wingback leather chair—the one his wife, Angelica, God rest her saintly soul, had surprised him with for his eighty-fifth birthday—while Marcus Russo eyed him furtively from the sofa. And he was was right. This scheme Giuseppe had concocted had the potential to blow up in his face, and create another rift in a family that already had its share of quarrels. But he was an old man and time was running low. He could sit back and do nothing, but the potential outcome was too heartbreaking to imagine. He had to do something.

“It must be done,” he told Marcus. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“I can’t decide which would be worse,” Marcus said, rising from the sofa and walking to the window that boasted a picturesque view of the park across the street, though most of the leaves had already fallen. “If they say no, or they actually say yes.”

“They’ve left me no choice. For the good of the family, it must be done.” Carrying on the Caroselli legacy had always been his number one priority. It was the reason he had fled Italy at the height of the Second World War, speaking not a word of English, with a only few dollars in the pocket of his trousers and his nonni’s secret family chocolate recipe emblazoned in his memory. He knew the Caroselli name was destined for great things.

He’d worked scrimped and saved until he had the money to start the first Caroselli Chocolate shop in downtown Chicago. In the next sixty years the Caroselli name grew to be recognized throughout the world, yet now it was in danger of dying out forever. Of his eight grandchildren and six great-grandchildren, there wasn’t a single heir to carry on the family name. Though his three sons each had a son, they were all still single and seemed to have no desire whatsoever to marry and start families of their own.

Giuseppe had no choice but to take matters into his own hands, and make them an offer they simply could not refuse.

There was a soft rap on the study door, and the butler appeared, tall and wiry and nearly as old as his charge. “They’re here, sir.”

Right on time, Giuseppe thought with a smile. If there was one thing that could be said about his grandsons, they were unfailingly reliable. They were also as ambitious as Giuseppe had been at their age, which is why he believed this might work. “Thank you, William. Send them in.”

The butler nodded and slipped from the room. A few seconds later his grandsons filed in. First Nicolas, charming and affable, with a smile that had been known to get him out of trouble with authority, and into trouble with the ladies. Following him was Nick’s cousin Robert, serious, focused and unflinchingly loyal. And last but not least, the oldest of all his grandchildren, ambitious, dependable Antonio Junior.

His joints protesting the movement, Giuseppe rose from his chair. “Thank you for coming, boys.” He gestured to the couch. “Please, have a seat.”

They did as he asked, all three looking apprehensive.

“You are obviously curious as to why you’re here,” Giuseppe said, easing back into his chair.

“I’d like to know why we had to keep it a secret,” Nick said, his brow furrowed with worry. “And why is Marcus here? Is something wrong?”

“Are you ill?” Tony asked.

“Fit as a fiddle,” Giuseppe said. Or as fit as an arthritic man of ninety-two could be. “There is a matter of great importance we must discuss.”

“Is the business in trouble?” Rob asked. For him, the company always came first, which was both a blessing and a curse. Had he not been so career-focused, he could be married with children by now. They all could.

“This isn’t about the business,” he told them. “At least, not directly. This is about the Caroselli family name, which will die unless the three of you marry and have sons.”

That earned him a collective eye roll from all three boys.

“Nonno, we’ve been through this before,” Nick said. “I for one am not ready to settle down. And I think I speak for all of us when I say that another lecture isn’t going to change that.”

“I know, that’s why this time I’ve decided to offer an incentive.”

That got their attention. Tony leaned forward slightly and asked, “What sort of incentive?”

“In a trust I have placed the sum of thirty million dollars to be split three ways when each of you marries and produces a male heir.”

Three jaws dropped in unison.

Nick was the first to recover. “You’re seriously going to give us each ten million dollars to get hitched and have a kid?”

“A son. And there are conditions.”

“If you’re going to try to force us into arranged marriages with nice Italian girls from the homeland, forget it,” Rob said.

If only he could be so lucky. And while he would love to see each of them marry a nice Italian girl, he was in no position to be picky. “You’re free to marry whomever you please.”

“So what’s the catch?” Tony asked.

“First, you cannot tell a soul about the arrangement. Not your parents or your siblings, not even your intended. If you do, you forfeit your third of the trust and it will be split between the other two.”

“And?” Nick said.

“If I should join your nonni, God rest her saintly soul, by the end of the second year and before a male heir is born to any one of you, the trust will be rolled back into my estate.”

“So the clock is ticking,” Nick said.

“Maybe. Of course, I could live to be one hundred. My doctor tells me that I’m in excellent health. But is that a chance any of you is willing to take? If you agree to my terms, that is.”

“What about Jessica?” Nick asked. “She has four children, yet I suspect you’ve not given her a dime.”

“I love your sister, Nick, and all my granddaughters, but their children will never carry the Caroselli name. I owe it to my parents, and my grandparents, and those who lived before them to keep the family name alive for future generations. But I also don’t want to see my granddaughters hurt, which is why this must always remain a secret.”

“Do you intend to have us sign some sort of contract?” Tony asked, turning to Marcus.

“That was my suggestion,” Marcus told him, “but your grandfather refuses.”

“No one will be signing anything,” Giuseppe said. “You’ll just have to trust that my word is good.”

“Of course we trust your word, Nonno,” Nick said, shooting the others a look. “You’ve never given us any reason not to.”

“I feel the same way about the three of you. Which is why I trust you to keep our arrangement private.”

Tony frowned. “What if you die? Won’t the family learn about it then?”

“They won’t suspect a thing. The money is already put aside, separate from the rest of my fortune, and as my attorney and executor to my will, Marcus and Marcus alone will have access to it. He will see that the money is distributed accordingly.”

“What if we aren’t ready to start families?” Rob asked.

Giuseppe shrugged. “Then you lose out on ten million dollars, and your third will go to your cousins.”

All three boys glanced at each other. Knowing how proud and independent they were, there was still the very real possibility that they might deny his request.

“Do you expect an answer today?” Nick asked.

“No, but I would at least like your word that each of you will give my offer serious thought.”

Another look was exchanged, then all three nodded.

“Of course we will, Nonno,” Rob said.

Had he been standing, Giuseppe may have crumpled with relief, and if not for gravity holding him to the earth, the heavy weight lifted from his stooped shoulders surely would have set him aloft. It wasn’t a guarantee, but they hadn’t outright rejected the idea, either, and that was a start. And given their competitive natures, he was quite positive that if one agreed, the other two would eventually follow suit.

After several minutes of talk about the business and family, Nick, Rob and Tony left.

“So,” Marcus asked, as the study door snapped closed behind them, “how do you suppose they’ll react when they learn there is no thirty million dollars set aside?”

Giuseppe shrugged. “I think they will be so blissfully happy, and so grateful for my timely intervention, that the money will mean nothing to them.”

“You have the money, Giuseppe. Have you considered actually giving it to them if they meet your terms?”

“And alienate my other grandchildren?” he scoffed. “What sort of man do you think I am?”

Marcus shook his head with exasperation. “And if you’re wrong? If they do want the money? If they’re angry that you lied to them?”

“They won’t be.” Besides, to carry on the Caroselli name—his legacy—that was a risk he was willing to take.

One

Late again.

Terri Phillips watched with a mix of irritation and amusement as her best friend, Nick Caroselli, walked briskly through the dining room of the bistro to their favorite booth near the bar, where they met every Thursday night for dinner.

With his jet-black hair, smoldering brown eyes, warm olive complexion and lean physique, heads swiveled and forks halted halfway to mouths as he passed. But Nick being Nick, he didn’t seem to notice. Not that he was unaware of his effect on women, nor was he innocent of using his charm to get his way when the need arose.

Not that it worked on her anymore.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said with that crooked grin he flashed when he was trying to get out of trouble. Fat snowflakes peppered the shoulders of his wool coat and dotted his hair, and his cheeks were rosy from the cold, meaning he’d walked the two blocks from the world headquarters of Caroselli Chocolate. “Work was crazy today.”

“I’ve only been here a few minutes,” she said, even though it had actually been more like twenty. Long enough to have downed two glasses of the champagne they were supposed to be toasting with.

He leaned in to brush a kiss across her cheek, the rasp of his evening stubble rough against her skin. She breathed in the whisper of his sandalwood soap—a birthday gift from her—combined with the sweet scent of chocolate that clung to him every time he spent the day in the company test kitchen.

“Still snowing?” she asked.

“It’s practically a blizzard out there.” Nick shrugged out of his coat, then stuck his scarf and leather gloves in the sleeve—a habit he’d developed when they were kids, after misplacing endless sets of mittens and scarves—then hung it on the hook behind their booth. “At this rate, we may actually get a white Christmas this year.”

“That would be nice.” Having spent the first nine years of her life in New Mexico, she’d never even seen snow until she’d moved to Chicago. To this day, she still loved it. Of course, having a home business meant no snowy commute, so she was biased.

“I ordered our usual,” she said as Nick slid into his seat.

He loosened his tie, and gestured to the champagne bottle. “Are we celebrating something?”

“You could say that.”

He plucked his napkin from the table and draped it across his lap. “What’s up?”

“First,” she said, “you’ll be happy to know that I broke up with Blake.”

Nick beamed. “Well, damn, that is a reason to celebrate!”

Nick had never liked her most recent boyfriend—the latest in a long and depressing string of failed relationships. He didn’t think Blake had what it took to make Terri happy. Turned out he was right. Even if it did take her four months to see it.

But last week Blake had mentioned offhandedly that his lease was almost up, and it seemed silly that they should both be paying rent when he spent most of his time at her place, anyway. Despite being more than ready to get married and start a family, when she imagined doing it with him, she’d felt … well, not much of anything, actually. Which was definitely not a good way to feel about a potential husband and father of her children. It was proof that, as Nick had warned her, she was settling again.

Nick poured himself a glass of champagne and took a sip. “So, what did he say when you dumped him?”

“That I’ll never find anyone else like him.”

Nick laughed. “Well, yeah, isn’t that the point? He was about as interesting as a paper clip. With half the personality.”

She wouldn’t deny that he’d been a little, well … bland. His idea of a good time was sitting at the computer, with it’s twenty-seven-inch high-def monitor, for hours on end playing World of Warcraft while she watched television or read. The truth is, he would probably miss her computer more than her.

“He’s an okay guy. He just isn’t the guy for me,” she told Nick. One day he would meet the game addict of his dreams and they would live a long happy life in cyberspace together.

Their waitress appeared to deliver their meal. A double pepperoni deep-dish pizza and cheesy bread. When she was gone, Nick said, “He’s out there, you know. The one for you. You’ll find him.”

She used to think so, too. But here she was almost thirty with not a single prospect anywhere in her near future. Her life plan had her married with a couple kids already. Which is why she had decided to take matters into her own hands.

“There’s something else we’re celebrating,” she told Nick. “I’m going to have a baby.”

He bolted upright and set down his glass so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter against the tiled tabletop.

“What? When? Is it Blake’s?”

“God, no!” She could just imagine that. The kid would probably be born with a game remote fused to its hands.

Nick leaned forward and hissed under his breath, “Whoever it is, he damn well better be planning to do right by you and the baby.”

Always looking out for her, she thought with a shot of affection so intense it burned. When he wasn’t getting her into trouble, that is. Although it was usually the other way around. It was typically her making rash decisions, and Nick talking sense into her. This time was different. This time she knew exactly what she was doing.

“There is no who,” she told him, dishing them each out a slice of pizza. “I’m not actually pregnant. Yet.”

Nick frowned. “Then why did you say you’re having a baby?”

“Because I will be, hopefully within the next year. I’m going to be a single mom.”

He sat back in his seat, looking stunned. “How? I mean, who’s going to be the father?”

“I’m going to use a donor.”

“A donor?” His dark brows pulled together. “You’re not serious.”

She shoved down the deep sting of disappointment. She had hoped he would understand, that he would be happy for her. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Completely serious. I’m ready. I’m financially sound, and since I work at home, I won’t have to put the baby in day care. The timing is perfect.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you were married?”

“I’ve pretty much struck out finding Mr. Right. I always said that I wanted to have my first baby by the time I’m thirty, and I’m almost there. And you know that I’ve always wanted a family of my own. Since my aunt died, I’ve got no one.”

“You’ve got me,” he said, his expression so earnest her heart melted.

Yes, she had him, not to mention his entire crazy family, but it wasn’t the same. When the chips were down, she was still an outsider.

“This doesn’t mean we aren’t going to be friends still,” she said. “In fact, I’ll probably need you more than ever. You’ll be the baby’s only other family. Uncle Nicky.”

The sentiment did nothing to erase the disenchantment from his expression. He pushed away his plate, as if he’d suddenly lost his appetite, and said, “You deserve better than a sperm donor.”

“I don’t exactly have the best luck with men.”

“But what about the baby?” Nick said, sounding testier by the second. “Doesn’t it deserve to have two parents?”

“As you well know, having two parents doesn’t necessarily make for a happy childhood.”

His deepening frown said that he knew she was right. Though he didn’t like to admit it, his childhood had left deep, indelible scars.

“I was hoping you would understand,” she said, and for some stupid reason she felt like crying. And she hardly ever cried. At least, not in front of other people. All it had ever earned her from her aunt—who didn’t have a sympathetic bone in her body—was a firm lecture.

“I do,” Nick said, reaching across the table for her hand. “I just want you to be happy.”

“This will make me happy.”

He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “Then I’m happy, too.”

She hoped he really meant that. That he wasn’t just humoring her. But as they ate their pizza and chatted, Nick seemed distracted, and she began to wonder if telling him about having a baby had been a bad idea, although for the life of her she wasn’t sure why it would matter either way to him.

After they finished eating, they put on their coats and were walking to the door when Nick asked, “Did you drive or take the bus?”

“Bus,” she said. If she thought she might be drinking, she always opted for public transportation. If the man who had plowed into her father’s car had only been as responsible, she wouldn’t be an orphan.

“Walk back to the office with me and I’ll drive you home.”

“Okay.”

The snow had stopped, but a prematurely cold wind whipped her hair around her face and the pavement was slippery, which made the two-block hike tricky. It was how she rationalized the fact that he was unusually quiet and there was a deep furrow in his brow.

When they got to the Caroselli Chocolate world headquarters building, it was closed for the night, so Nick used a key card to let them in. With a retail store taking up most of the ground floor, the lobby smelled of the chocolate confections lining the shelves. Everything from standard chocolate bars to gourmet chocolate-covered apples.

Nick felt around in his pockets, then cursed under his breath. “I left my car keys in my office.”

“You want me to wait down here?”

“No, you can come up.” Then he grinned and said, “Unless you’re an industrial spy trying to steal the Caroselli secret recipe.”

“Right, because we both know what an accomplished cook I am.” If there were a way to burn water, she would figure it out. Meaning she ordered out a lot, and the rest of the time ate microwave dinners.

They walked past the receptionist’s desk and he used his key card to activate the elevator. Only authorized personnel and approved visitors were allowed above the ground floor. And no one but the Caroselli family and employees with special clearance were allowed in the test kitchen.

Nick was quiet the entire ride up to the fourth floor, and while they walked down the hall to his office. She had to smile as he opened the door and switched on the light, and she saw the lopsided stacks of papers and memos on the surface of his desk, leaving no space at all to work. She suspected that this was why he spent so much time on the top floor in the kitchen.

He opened the desk drawer and pulled out his car keys, but then he just stood there. Something was definitely bugging him and she needed to know what.

“What’s the matter, Nick? And don’t tell me nothing. I’ve known you long enough to know when something is wrong.”

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About me having a baby?”

He nodded.

“It’s what I want.”

“Then there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Okay,” she said, her heart sinking just the tiniest bit, mostly because he wouldn’t look at her. And he must have been anticipating a long discussion because he took off his coat and tossed it over the back of his chair. She did the same, then nudged aside a pile of papers so she could sit beside him on the edge of his desk.

He was quiet for several long seconds, as though he was working something through in his head, then he looked at her and said, “You really want to do it? Have a baby, I mean.”

“I really do.”

“What if I had a better way?”

“A better way?”

He nodded. “For both of us.”

Both of them? She failed to see how her plan to have a baby could in any way benefit him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I know the perfect man to be the father of your baby. Someone who would actually be around. Someone willing to take financial responsibility for the rest of the baby’s life.”

Whoever this so-called perfect man was, he sounded too good to be true. “Oh, yeah?” she said. “Who?”

He leaned forward, his dark eyes serious. “Me.”

For a second she was too stunned to speak. Nick wanted to have a baby with her? “Why? You’ve been pretty adamant about the fact that you don’t want children.”

“Trust me when I say that it will be a mutually advantageous arrangement.”

“Advantageous how?”

“What I’m about to tell you, you have to promise not to repeat to anyone. Ever.”

“Okay.”

“Say, ‘I promise.’”

She rolled her eyes. What were they, twelve? “I promise.”

“Last week my grandfather called me, Rob and Tony to his house for a secret meeting. He offered us ten million dollars each to produce a male heir to carry on the Caroselli name.”

“Holy crap.”

“That was pretty much my first reaction, too. I wasn’t sure I was even going to accept his offer. I’m really not ready to settle down, but then you mentioned your plan …” He shrugged. “I mean, how much more perfect could it be? You get the baby you want and I get the money.”

It made sense in a weird way, but her and Nick?

“Of course, we would have to get married,” he said.

Whoa, wait a minute. “Married? Haven’t you told me about a million times that you’ll never get married?”

“You know how traditional Nonno is. I don’t have a choice. But the minute I have the cash in hand, we can file for a quickie divorce. An ironclad prenup should eliminate any complications … not that I expect there would be any.”

“That sounds almost too easy.”

“Well, we will have to make it look convincing.”

Why did she get the feeling she wasn’t going to like this? “What exactly do you mean by convincing?”

“You’ll have to move into my place.”

A fake marriage was one thing, but to live together? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I have lots of space. You can have the spare bedroom and you can turn the den into your office.”

Space wasn’t the issue. They’d tried the roommate thing right after college, in an apartment more than spacious enough for two people. Between the random girls parading in and out at ridiculous hours—and the fact that Nick never picked up after himself and left the sink filled with his dirty dishes while the dishwasher sat empty, and a couple dozen other annoying quirks and habits he had—after two months she’d reached her limit. Had she stayed even a day longer, it would have either killed their friendship, or she would have killed him.

“Nick, you know I love you, and I value our friendship beyond anything else, but we’ve tried this before. It didn’t work.”

“That was almost eight years ago. I’m sure we’ve both matured since then.”

“Have you stopped being a slob, too? Because I loathe the thought of spending the next nine months cleaning up after you.”

“You won’t have to. I have a cleaning service come in three times a week. And for the record, I’m not particularly looking forward to you nagging me incessantly.”

“I do not nag,” she said, and he shot her a look. “Okay, maybe I nag a little, but only out of sheer frustration.”

“Then we’ll just have to make an effort to be more accommodating to each other. I promise to keep on top of the clutter, if you promise not to nag.”

That might be easier said than done.

“Think how lucky the kid will be,” Nick said. “Most divorced parents hate each other. Mine haven’t had a civilized conversation in years. His will be best friends.”

He had a good point there. “So that means you’ll be a regular part of the baby’s life?”

“Of course. And he’ll have lots of cousins, and aunts and uncles.”

Wasn’t a part-time father better than no father at all? And she would never have to worry financially. She knew Nick would take care of the baby. Not that she was hurting for money. If she was careful, the trust her aunt had willed her, combined with her growing web design business, would keep her living comfortably for a very long time. But Nick would see that the baby went to the best schools, and had every advantage, things she couldn’t quite afford. And he would be a part of a big, loving, happy family. Which was more than she could say for her own childhood. The baby might even join the Caroselli family business some day.

“And suppose, God forbid, something should happen to you,” he said. “Where would the baby go if he was fathered by a donor?”

Having lost her own parents, of course that was a concern. Now that her aunt was gone, there was no family left to take the child if she were in an accident or … Although the baby would probably be better off in foster care than with someone like her aunt. She would have been.

“With me as the father, he’ll always have a family.” Nick said.

As completely crazy as the idea was, it did make sense. “I think it could work.”

He actually looked excited, although who wouldn’t be over the prospect of ten million bucks? Why settle for the life of a millionaire when he could be a multimillionaire?

“So,” he said, “is that an ‘I’m still thinking about it,’ or is that a definite yes?”

Though she was often guilty for jumping into things without full consideration, maybe in this case overthinking it would be a bad idea. Or maybe she just didn’t want the opportunity to talk herself out of it. They would both be getting what they wanted. More or less.

“I just have one more question,” she said. “What about women?”

“What about them?”

“Will it be a different girl every other night? Will I have to listen to the moaning and the headboard knocking against the wall? See her traipsing around the next morning in nothing but her underwear and one of your shirts?”

“Of course not. As long as we’re married, I wouldn’t see anyone else.”

“Nick, we’re talking at least nine months. Can you even go that long without dating?”

“Do you really mean dating, or is that code for sex?”

“Either.”

“Can you?”

She could. The real question was, did she want to? But to have a baby, wasn’t it worth it?

“Maybe,” Nick said, “we don’t have to.”

“Are you suggesting that we cheat on each other?” Even if it wasn’t a real marriage, that could be an obstacle. And while she was sure Nick would have no trouble finding willing participants, with her big belly and swelling ankles, she was fairly certain no men would be fighting for the chance to get into her maternity jeans.

“I’m assuming you plan to use artificial insemination,” he said.

She felt a little weird about discussing the particulars, but he was a part of this now. It would be his baby, too. “That or in vitro, which is much more reliable, but crazy expensive. Either way it could take several months.”

“Or we could pay nothing at all,” he said.

She must have looked thoroughly confused, because he laughed and said, “You have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“I guess I don’t.”

“Think about it.” He wiggled his eyebrows and flashed her a suggestive smile.

Wait a minute. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“Why pay a doctor to get you pregnant,” he said,

“when we could just do it the old-fashioned way for free?”

Two

Terri gaped at Nick, her eyes—which were sometimes green and sometimes blue, depending on the light—wide with shock and horror. It took her several seconds to find her voice, and when she did, she said, a full octave higher than her usual range, “That was a joke, right?”

“Actually, I’ve never been more serious.” Nick would be the first to admit it was a pretty radical idea, but on a scale of one to ten, this entire situation had a weird factor of about fifty.

He had given Nonno’s offer a lot of thought and had come to the conclusion that he just wasn’t ready to settle down yet. It wasn’t so much the idea of being a father that put him off—he loved kids—but the marriage end of the deal that gave him the willies. His parents had gone through hell, and put Nick and his two older sisters through it, too. Now with his sister Jessica’s marriage in trouble, as well, the idea of marital bliss was nothing more than a fairy tale to him. And not worth the pain of the inevitable divorce. Not even for ten million dollars.

It had never occurred to him that the actual marriage could be a sham. Not to mention so mutually advantageous. And who in his family would question the plausibility that after twenty years of devoted friendship, his and Terri’s relationship had moved to the next level? The women in his family ate up that kind of romantic garbage.

Terri tucked her long dark hair behind her ears. He’d only seen her do this when she was nervous or uncomfortable, and that wasn’t very often. She was one of the most centered, secure and confident people he’d ever known. Sometimes this led to her being a touch impulsive, but in this instance could only work in his favor.

“The sooner this kid is born, the better,” he told her. “So why would we spend a lot of time and money on procedures that could take months to work?”

Indecision wrinkled the space between her brows and she picked at the frayed cuff of her sweatshirt. “Aren’t you worried that it might make things weird between us?” she asked.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But, haven’t you ever been curious?”

“Curious?”

He gave her arm a gentle nudge. “You’ve never wondered what it might be like if you and I …”

It took an awful lot to embarrass her, but there was a distinct red hue working its way across her cheekbones. That was a yes if he’d ever seen one, even if she didn’t want to admit it. And he couldn’t deny that he’d thought about it himself more than a time or two. She was funny and smart and beautiful, so who could blame him?

“I’ve never told you this,” he said. “But there was a time when I had a pretty serious crush on you.”

She blinked. “You did?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“When?”

“Our junior year of high school.”

She looked genuinely stunned. “I—I had no idea.”

That’s because he’d never said a word about it. Up until then, he’d never viewed her in a sexual way. Nor, it seemed, did many other boys. She had been a late bloomer, a typical tomboy, lanky and tall—taller than all the other girls and even a fair share of the boys—and as far from feminine as a girl could be. But she’d spent the entire summer after their sophomore year in Europe with her aunt and something intriguing had happened. She left Chicago a girl, and returned a woman.

Boys in school began paying attention to her, talking about her in the locker room, and he wouldn’t deny that she became the subject of a few of his own teenage fantasies. Not that he would have acted on those feelings. They were, after all, only friends, though that fact did little to erase the jealousy he felt when he saw her with other boys, or would hear the rumors of the things she had done with them. And as much as he liked how she changed, he resented her for it. He wanted the old Terri back. But he got over it, of course. What choice did he have?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Aside from the fact that I thought it would probably freak you out?” He shrugged. “It was a crush. I had them all the time. And our friendship was too important to me to ruin over raging teenage hormones.”

“But you would be willing to ruin it now?”

“Maybe if we were sleeping together just for the sake of doing it, but this is different. We have a legitimate reason to have sex.”

In his experience, romantic love and friendship occupied opposite sides of the playing field, and he would never let one interfere with the other. Which is why he was so sure that if they approached this situation logically, it would work. And when all was said and done, everyone would get exactly what they wanted.

“It’s a means to an end,” he said. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

She shot him a look. “That’s just what every girl wants to hear when she’s considering sleeping with a man.”

“You get my point. And yes, it could potentially change our relationship, but not necessarily for the worse. It might even bring us closer together.”

She didn’t look convinced. Maybe she was opposed to the idea for an entirely different reason.

“Do you have moral objections?” he asked. “Or is it just that you find the idea of sleeping with me revolting?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are not revolting. And though it’s embarrassing to admit, I had kind of a crush on you once, too.”

If that was true, she’d done one hell of a job hiding it. “When?”

“It pretty much started the day I transferred into Thomas Academy school in fourth grade.”

He recalled that day clearly, when she’d walked into his class, bitter, sullen and mad as hell. It was obvious to everyone in the elite private school that she was an outsider. And trouble. A fact she drove home that very first day when she had come up behind Nick on the playground and pushed him off his swing, knocking him face-first in the dirt. He wanted to shove her right back, but he’d had it drilled into him by his mother to respect girls, so he’d walked away instead. Which only seemed to fuel her lust for blood.

For days he’d tolerated kicks in the shin, pinches on the arm, prods in the cafeteria line and endless ribbing from his buddies for not retaliating. With his parents in the middle of a nasty divorce, he’d had some anger issues of his own, and the unprovoked attacks started to grate on him. A week or so later she tripped him on his way to the lunch table, making him drop his tray and spill his spaghetti and creamed corn all over the cafeteria floor and himself. The other students laughed, and something inside Nick snapped. Before he realized what he was doing, he hauled off and popped her one right in the mouth.

The entire cafeteria went dead silent, everyone watching to see what would happen next, and he’d felt instantly ashamed for hitting a weak, defenseless girl.

He would never forget the way he’d stood watching her, waiting for the tears to start as blood oozed from the corner of her lip and down her chin. And how she balled her fist, took a swing right back at him, clipping him in the jaw. He was so stunned, he just stood there. But she wasn’t finished. She launched herself at him, knocking him to the floor, and there was nothing girly about it. No biting or scratching or hair-pulling. She fought like a boy, and her fists were lethal weapons. He had no choice but to fight back. To defend himself. Plus, he had his pride, because to a nine-year-old boy, being accepted meant everything.

It had taken three teachers to pry them apart and haul them to the dean’s office, both of them bruised and bloody. They were given a fourteen-day in-school suspension, though that was mild compared to the tirade he’d endured from his father, and the disappointment from his mother, who he knew were miserable enough without any help from him.

He spent the next two weeks holed up in a classroom alone with Terri, and as the black eyes faded and the split lips healed, something weird happened. To this day he wasn’t sure whether it was mutual admiration or two lost souls finding solace in each other, but they walked out of that room friends, and had been ever since.

“So, you beat the snot out of me because you liked me?” he said.

“It wasn’t even a conscious thing. Until I looked back at it years later did I realize why I was so mean to you. But once we became friends, I never thought about you in a romantic way.”

“Never?”

“Why would I?” she said, but a hot-pink blush crept up into her cheeks. She pushed herself off his desk and walked over to the window, looking out into the darkness, at the traffic crawling past on icy roads.

If she hadn’t, why the embarrassment? Why was she running away from him?

He knew he should probably let it go, but he couldn’t. “You never thought about what it might be like if I kissed you?”

With her back to him, she shrugged. “You kiss me all the time.”

“Not a real kiss.” But now that he’d gotten the idea into his head, he couldn’t seem to shake it off. He wanted to kiss her.

He pushed off the desk, walked over to the window and stood behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she jerked, sucking in a surprised breath. “Nick …”

He turned her so she was facing him. She was so tall they were practically nose to nose. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“It’s just … it would be weird.”

He propped a hand on the windowpane beside her head, so she was blocked in by his arm on one side and the wall on the other. “How will you know until you try?”

He reached up to run his finger down her cheek, and not only was it crimson, but burning hot.

“Nick,” she said, but it came out sounding low and breathy. It was a side of her that he didn’t see often. A softer, vulnerable Terri, and he liked it. And it occurred to him, as he leaned in closer, that what he was feeling right now wasn’t just curiosity. He was turned-on. And it was no longer the childish fantasies of a teenage boy who knew he wanted something, but wasn’t quite sure what it was. This time Nick knew exactly what he wanted.

“One kiss,” he told her, coming closer, so his mouth was just inches from hers. “And if it’s really that awful, we won’t ever do it again.”

Heat rolled off her in waves. Her pulse was racing, and as she tentatively laid a hand near the collar of his jacket, he could feel her trembling. Was she afraid, or as sexually charged by this as he was? Or was it a little of both? With her hand strategically placed on his chest, she could either push him away, or grab his lapel and pull him in.

Which would it be?

He leaned in slowly, drawing out the suspense. When his lips were a fraction of an inch away, so near he could feel the flutter of her breath, as her fingers curled around the lapel of his jacket … a loud noise from the hallway startled them both and they jumped apart.

Damn it!

Nick walked to the door and looked out to see a member of the cleaning crew pushing her cart down the hall toward the conference room.

He turned, hoping they could pick up where they left off, only to find Terri yanking on her coat. “What are you doing?”

“I really need to get home.”

“Terri—”

“This was a mistake, Nick. I think we’re better off using a doctor, like I originally planned.”

“If that’s what you really want,” he said, feeling disappointed, but trying not to let it show.

“I’ll cover the cost.”

As if he would let her do that. “I insist on paying at least half.”

She looked as if she might argue, then seemed to change her mind. She nodded and said, “That sounds fair.”

He grabbed his coat and shrugged into it. “I’ll drive you home.”

She didn’t say a word as they walked to the elevator, and rode it to the underground parking garage, but he could practically hear the wheels in her mind moving. As much as he wanted to know what she was thinking, he knew better than to ask. If she wanted him to know, she would talk when she was ready. If he tried to drag it out of her, she would clam up. He’d seen her do it a million times. As close as they were, there was always a small part of herself that she vigilantly guarded from everyone, and could he blame her? His parents’ relationship may have been a disaster, but at least he had parents. Despite their dysfunctional marriage, they loved him and his sisters. From the time she moved to Chicago, all Terri ever had was an aunt who only tolerated her presence. If she had loved Terri, she had been unable, or unwilling to let it show.

Though he knew it irked her, Nick opened the passenger door for Terri. Normally she would make a fuss about being completely capable of opening her own door thank-you-very-much, but she didn’t say a word this time. Anyone who knew Terri was well aware she always had something to say, or an opinion about pretty much everything. Tonight, she was quiet the entire ride to her condominium complex on the opposite side of town.

Nick pulled up in front of her unit and turned to her, but she was just sitting there, looking out the windshield. “Everything okay?” he asked.

She nodded, but didn’t move.

“Are you sure? You can talk to me.”

“I know. I just …” She shrugged.

Whatever it was, she wasn’t ready to discuss it.

“Well, you know where I am if you need me,” he said, even though as long as he’d known her, Terri never truly needed anyone. She wrote the handbook on self-sufficiency.

He leaned over to kiss her cheek, the way he always did, but she flung open the car door and jumped out before he had the chance. As he watched her dart into the building without looking back, he couldn’t help thinking that in her attempt to keep things between them from changing, they already had.

Three

Though she had hoped getting a good night’s sleep would make things clearer, Terri tossed and turned all night, then woke the next morning feeling just as confused as she had been when Nick had dropped her at home.

She didn’t want their relationship to change. But what she realized last night while he drove her home was that it already had changed, and it was too late to go back. They had opened a door, and there would be no closing it again until they both stepped through. Unfortunately, she had no idea what was waiting on the other side.

After a long and unproductive workday spent wondering what to do next, how they could pull this off without killing their friendship—if they hadn’t already—she realized that she’d made her decision last night in his office. She’d just been too afraid to admit it. Not only to him, but to herself. Which was what led her to his apartment this evening. He hadn’t tried to contact her all day, by phone or even email, meaning that he was smart enough to realize she needed time to work this through on her own. He was always there when she needed him, but he also knew when she needed space. She realized it said an awful lot about their relationship.

He opened the door dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with a chef’s apron tied around his waist and smudged with what looked like chocolate batter. The scent of something sweet and delicious reached out into the hallway to greet her.

“Hey,” he said, looking not at all surprised to see her.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” He stepped aside to let her in, and she gazed around the high-rise apartment that would be home for the next nine months or so. It was painted in rich, masculine hues, yet it still managed to feel warm and homey, in large part due to the casual-comfy furnishings and the dozens of framed family photos throughout the space.

Nick may have had an aversion to marriage, but when it came to his family, he couldn’t be more devoted. She was also happy to see that most of the clutter that had been there last week was gone.

“Come on into the kitchen,” he said. “I’m trying a new cake recipe.”

A culinary genius, he spent much of his free time cooking and baking. He’d often said that if it wasn’t for Caroselli Chocolate, he would have opened his own restaurant, but he would never leave the family business.

On her way through the living room, Terri dropped her purse and coat on the sofa, then followed Nick into his state-of-the-art kitchen, half of which she wouldn’t have the first clue how to use. Nor did she have the desire to learn.

“Whatever it is, it smells delicious,” she told Nick as she took a seat on one of the three bar stools at the island.

“Triple chocolate fudge,” he said. “Jess wants me to make something special for Angie’s birthday party next Saturday.”

“She’ll be eleven, right?”

“Twelve.”

“Really? Wow. I remember when she was born, how excited you were to be an uncle. It doesn’t seem like twelve years ago.”

“It goes by fast,” he said, checking the contents of one of the three top-of-the-line wall ovens. Then he untied the apron and draped it over the oven door handle—where it would probably remain until someone else put it in the broom closet where it belonged. He leaned against the edge of the granite countertop, folded his arms and asked, “So, enough of the small talk. What’s up?”

That was Nick, always getting right to the point. “First, I want to apologize for the way I acted last night. You just … surprised me.”

“It’s okay. You were a little overwhelmed. I get it.”

“But I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. In fact, it’s about the only thing I can think about, and I just have one more question.”

“Shoot.”

“If we do this, if we make the baby the old-fashioned way, can you promise me that afterward things will go back to the way they were? That nothing will change?”

“No. I can’t promise that.”

She sighed. Did he have to be so damned honest? Couldn’t he just humor her into thinking she was making the right choice? But that wasn’t Nick. He was a straight shooter, and the only time he sugarcoated was in the kitchen.

“The best I can do is promise you that I’ll always be there for you,” he said. “We’ll always be friends. Whether we use a doctor or do this conventionally, we’re going to have a child together. That alone is bound to change things.”

He was right, of course. She’d been so focused on the idea of how sleeping together would affect their relationship, that she hadn’t truly grasped the enormity of having a child together. She’d wanted a baby so badly, she hadn’t let herself fully consider the consequences. She realized now that everything would change. The question was, would it be a good change?

“I guess I didn’t think this through completely,” she told Nick. “Big surprise, right?”

“And now that you have?”

It scared her half to death. She’d been friends with Nick longer than anyone. Longer than she knew her own father. “I’m still hopelessly confused.”

“Then we aren’t going to do it. You can stick to your original plan and use a donor.”

“And what will you do?” The idea of him entering a fake marriage with someone else, having a baby with her, left a knot in her belly.

“I won’t do anything,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll admit, I was sort of excited about the idea of having a baby, but only because I would be having it with you.”

“But, what about the money?”

“Terri, our friendship means more to me than any sum of money.”

She was too stunned to speak.

Nick laughed. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“It’s just … I think that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I didn’t say it to be nice. I said it because it’s the truth.”

And she felt ashamed that she hadn’t trusted him, that she never realized just how much her friendship meant to him. “Let’s do it,” she said. “Let’s have a baby.”

Now he was the one who looked surprised. “Maybe you should take a little more time to consider this.”

“I don’t need more time.”

“Are you sure?”

She couldn’t recall ever feeling more sure about anything in her entire life. She didn’t know why exactly. She just knew. “I want to do this.”

“The wedding, the baby, moving in with me. Everything?”

“Everything.”

“I guess the only question now is, how soon can we get started?” he asked.

“Well, I’m due to ovulate in two weeks, give or take a day or two. I’d rather not wait another month. The sooner I get pregnant, the better.”

“The question is, can we plan a wedding in fourteen days?”

“I guess it depends on the kind of wedding you want.”

“I would be happy to do this in front of a judge with a couple witnesses.”

“That works for me,” she said. Terri hadn’t spent her adolescence dreaming of and planning her wedding. And why drop a lot of money on a marriage that was guaranteed to end in divorce?

“There’s only one problem with that,” he said.

She knew exactly what he was going to say. “Your family would have a fit.” If there was one thing that the Carosellis loved, it was a party. They would never pass up the opportunity to gather together, overeat and drink too much.

“Exactly,” he said.

“So, how big are you thinking?”

“Immediate family only, maybe a few people from work.”

“Two weeks would be the Saturday before Thanksgiving. I can guarantee most places will be booked.”

Nick considered that for a moment, then his face lit up. “Hey, how about Nonno’s house? It would definitely be big enough. We could have the ceremony in the great room, in front of the fireplace.”

“He wouldn’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? He would be thrilled. The whole point of this is to get the three of us married off and making babies as soon as possible.”

It seemed like a logical choice to her, too. “Call him and make sure it’s okay. On such short notice, I’m thinking we should keep it as simple as possible. Drinks and appetizers will be the best way to go.”

“My cousin Joe on my mom’s side can get us a good deal on the liquor. Make a list of what you think we’ll need, then remember that it’s my family and whatever you plan to order, double it. And we should call the caterer we use for business events. The food is great, and their prices are reasonable.”

“Email me the number and I’ll call them.” There was so much to do, and so little time. But she was sure they could pull it off. She knew that as soon as his mom and his sisters heard the news, they would be gunning to help.

“You understand that my family has to believe this marriage is real, that we have to look like two people madly in love?”

“I know.”

“That means we’ll have to appear comfortable kissing and touching each other.”

The thought of kissing and touching Nick, especially in front of his family, made her heart skip a beat.

“Can you do that?” he asked.

Did she have a choice? “I can do it.”

“Are you sure? Last night when I touched you, you jumped a mile.”

“I was just nervous. And confused.”

“And you aren’t now?”

“I’m trying to look at it logically. Like we’re just two people … conducting a science experiment.”

Nick laughed. “That sounds fun. And correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you almost blow up the science lab in middle school?”

Which had taught her the invaluable lesson that when a teacher said chemicals aren’t to be mixed, she actually meant it. That, plus a week of suspension, and a month of summer school to make up the failing grade she’d more than earned in the class, drove the message home.

But what Nick seemed to be forgetting was she’d only done it because he’d dared her.

“I didn’t think it was supposed to be fun,” she said.

He frowned. “You don’t think sex should be fun?”

“Not all sex. I guess I just thought, because we’re friends, we would just sort of … go through the motions.”

“There’s no reason why we can’t enjoy it,” Nick said.

“What if we’re not compatible?”

“As far as I’m aware, we both have the right parts,” he said with a grin. “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean biologically compatible. What if we get started and we don’t get, you know … turned-on?”

“Are you saying you find me unattractive?”

“No, but in twenty years, I’ve never looked at you and had the uncontrollable urge to jump your bones. I just don’t think of you that way.”

“Come here,” he said, summoning her around the island with a crooked finger.

“Why?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Now?”

“Why not now? Before we go through the trouble of getting married, shouldn’t we know for sure? Besides, what if we wait until our wedding day, and it all goes horribly wrong? Suppose we bump noses, or we both tilt our head the same way. And what about our honeymoon? Are we just going to hop into bed without ever having touched each other? Doesn’t it make more sense for us to ease into it gradually?”

He definitely had a point. The problem here was that she was trying to play by a set of rules that didn’t exist. They were making it up as they went along. “I guess that does make sense.”

“So, what are you waiting for?” He tapped his lips with his index finger. “Lay one on me.”

The idea that they were really going to do it, that he was going to kiss her for real, and not his usual peck on the cheek, gave her a funny feeling in her head. Her hands went all warm and tingly, as if all the blood in her body was pooling somewhere south of her heart.

It’s just Nick. She had no reason to be nervous or scared or whatever it was she was feeling. But as her feet carried her around the island to where he stood, her heart was racing.

“Ready?” he asked, and she nodded.

Nick leaned in, but before their lips could meet, a giggle burst up from her chest. Nick drew back, looking exasperated.

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little nervous.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, shaking the feeling back into her fingers. “I’m okay now. I promise not to laugh again.”

“Good, because you’re bruising my fragile ego.”

Somehow she doubted that. She’d never met a man more secure in his prowess with women.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“Really ready?”

She nodded. “Really ready.”

Nick leaned in, and she met him halfway, and their lips just barely touched.

She couldn’t help it, she giggled again.

Backing away, Nick sighed loudly. “This is not working.”

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I’m really trying.”

Maybe this wasn’t going to work. If she couldn’t feel comfortable kissing him, what would it be like trying to have sex?

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She narrowed them at him instead. “Why?”

“Just close them. And keep them closed.”

Even though she felt stupid, she did as he asked, and for what felt like a full minute he did nothing, and she started to feel impatient. “Any day now.”

“Shush.”

Another thirty seconds or so passed and finally she felt him move closer, felt the whisper of his breath on her cheek, then his lips brushed over hers. This time she didn’t giggle, and she wasn’t so nervous anymore. His lips were soft and his evening stubble felt rough against her chin, but in a sexy way. And though it wasn’t exactly passionate, it wasn’t merely friendly, either.

This is nice, she thought. Nice enough that she wanted to see what came next, and when Nick started to pull away, before he could get too far, she fisted her hands in the front of his shirt and pulled him back in.

He made a sound, somewhere between surprise and pleasure, and he must have forgotten all about their ease-into-it-gradually plan, because it went from nice to holy-cow-can-this-guy-kiss in two seconds flat. He must have been sampling the cake batter earlier, because he tasted sweet, like chocolate.

Oh, my gosh, she was kissing Nick, her best friend. It was Nick’s arms circling her, Nick’s hand cupping her cheek, sliding under the root of her ponytail and cocking her head to just the right angle.

Her internal thermometer shot into the red zone and her bones began a slow melt, dripping away like icicles in the hot sun. And only when she heard Nick moan, when she felt her fingers sink through the softness of his hair, did she realize that her arms were around his shoulders, that her body was pressed against him, her breasts crushed against the hard wall of his chest. It was thrilling and arousing, and scary as hell, and a couple dozen other emotions all jumbled up together. But more than anything, it just felt … right. In a way that no other kiss had before. And all she could think was more.

For the second time Nick was the one to pull away, and she had to fight the urge to tighten her arms around his neck and pull him to her again. But instead of letting go completely, he hooked his fingers in the belt loop of her jeans.

“Wow,” he said, searching her face, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. “That was …”

“Wow,” she agreed. If she had known kissing Nick would be like that, she might have tried it a long time ago.

“Are you still worried about us being incompatible?” he asked.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“Do you feel weird?”

“Weird?”

“You said before that you were afraid things might get weird between us.”

The only thing she felt right now was turned-on, and ready to kiss him again. “It’s difficult to say after one kiss.”

“Oh, really?” he said, tugging her closer. “Then I guess we’ll just have to do it again.”

Four

Their second kiss was even better than the first, and this time when Nick stopped and asked, “Feeling weird yet?” instead of answering, Terri just pulled him in for number three. And she was so wowed by the fact that it was Nick kissing her, Nick touching her, that she didn’t really think about where he was touching her. Not until his hand slid down over the back pocket of her jeans, then everything came to a screeching halt.

She backed away and looked at him. “Your hand is on my butt.”

“I know. I put it there.” He paused, then said, “Am I moving too fast?”

Was he? Was it too much too soon? Was there some sort of schedule they were supposed to follow? A handbook for friends who become lovers to have a baby? As long as it felt good, as long as they both wanted it, why stop?

And boy, did it feel good.

“No,” she said. “You’re not moving too fast. If you were, would I be thinking how much better it would feel if my jeans were off?”

He made a growly noise deep in his chest and kissed her hard, but despite that shameless invitation into her pants, he kept his hands on the outside of her clothes. And no matter where she touched him, how she rubbed up against him, or encouraged him with little moans of pleasure, he didn’t seem to be getting the hint that she was ready to proceed.

When he did finally slide his hand under her shirt, she felt like pumping her fist in the air, and shouting, “Yes!” But then he just kept it there. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good resting just above the waist of her jeans, but she was sure it would feel a whole lot better eight inches or so higher and slightly to the left.

She pulled back and said, “If you felt the need to touch my breast, or pretty much any other part of my anatomy, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Looking amused, he said, “It’s not often a woman tells me I’m moving too slow.”

“I could play coy, but what’s the point? We both know we’re going to end up in bed tonight.”

His brows rose. “We do?”

“Can you think of a reason we shouldn’t?”

When most men would have jumped at the offer, he actually took several seconds to think about it. Which for some strange reason made her want it even more. It was crazy to think that on Wednesday she wouldn’t have even considered a physical relationship with him, but two days and a couple kisses later, she couldn’t wait to get him out of his clothes. And if he turned her down, she was going to be seriously unhappy.

After a brief pause he shrugged and said, “Nothing is coming to mind.”

The way she figured it, their friendship had been leading up to this, even if they hadn’t realized it. That equated to about twenty years of foreplay. Technically, no one could say they were rushing things. “So why are we still standing in the kitchen?”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.