Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 36

Without warning, he pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his own. His tongue thrust between her lips, circling and stroking, tangling with hers.

It felt like forever since he'd last kissed her, desire flaring hot and fast between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist to draw her even closer, encouraged when the tension seemed to drain from her lithe form and she went limp in his embrace.

It wasn't easy, but he forced himself to pull away, breaking the kiss and taking a step back so he wouldn't be tempted to grab her up again.

"Was that pretend?" he asked. "Was the time you spent in my arms and in my bed an act?"

She looked stunned, her eyes somewhat glazed. But her head was already moving in vehement denial. "No. I promise that was real, every bit of it."

His heart suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter, floating in his chest like a helium balloon. He wanted to throw his head back and shout with joy. Lift his hands and dance like Rocky at the top of those wide Philadelphia steps.

Instead, he grinned and lifted one of her hands to his mouth, pressing his lips to the smooth ridge of her knuckles.

"Then I don't care about anything else. I love you, not your job or your clothes. You could work at a burger joint and wear a little paper hat, for all I care."

That brought a smile to her face, though she still looked uncertain.

"I'm not who you thought I was, though," she insisted, her eyes growing misty. "I collect ceramic kitty cat figurines and spend most of my evenings reading, not club hopping."

"Do you love me, Gwen?" he asked point-blank. "That's all I want to know. Do you love me?"

Her lower lip quivered, but she answered immediately and without hesitation. "Yes, I love you. I didn't want to, I tried to fight it, but, G.o.d help me, I do."

One arm snaked around her and he pulled her flush with his body, kissing her again until they were both breathless. When they finally broke apart, it was only to suck in lungfuls of much-needed oxygen. Now that he had her where he wanted her, he wasn't ever letting her go.

"But, Ethan-"

"No." He held up a hand, cutting her off. "No more excuses, no more reasons why I can't possibly have feelings for you. It took me a h.e.l.l of a long time to get past my bitterness with Susan and realize I could actually open myself to loving another woman. I want you, ceramic cats, library card and all. I'll even cut back on my hours at the club, if it will make you more comfortable. I've been looking into opening a second location, anyway, so I can just as easily spend my time on that."

"You don't have to change anything for me," she whispered. "Except for maybe sleeping with strange women the first night you meet them."

She gazed up at him adoringly, a teasing tilt to her lips, and he knew he was watching her with much the same expression in his eyes.

"Deal. And the same thing goes for you. From now on, I'm a one-woman man and you're a one-man woman."

The happiness in her face grew until she was positively glowing. She leaned up on tiptoe to press her lips to his.

"Deal."

Epilogue.

G wen s.h.i.+fted on the sofa in Ethan's office, turning the page of her favorite battered paperback copy of Jane Eyre. She could feel the pounding rhythm from the main club area vibrating through the floor, but this room was practically soundproof, and she had long ago learned to ignore the strange sensation of knowing what song was playing without really hearing it.

She'd learned a lot of things over the past several months. Such as what it was like to live with a man, and that Ethan truly did love her-just the way she was.

They'd moved in together soon after Ethan's sudden appearance at the library and their mutual admissions of love. But she'd still been nervous and had doubts, considering the misconceptions they'd been functioning under ever since they met. So they'd agreed to take things slowly and really get to know each other before jumping into anything permanent.

Ironically, Ethan had moved into her apartment-bookshelves, cat figurines, and all-instead of the other way around. He claimed to like the homier, more sedate decor, and to be tired of his bachelor pad, which he'd sublet until his lease expired.

After six months of being together practically every minute they weren't at work, Gwen felt confident that Ethan really did know her, inside and out. And she knew him. Which was why, when Ethan took her out for a candlelit dinner and asked her to marry him, she'd had no reservations about saying yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

They'd been married at Jazz Hot, Ethan's newest business venture. He'd found an old warehouse on the other side of town and had it completely renovated to resemble the old jazz clubs of the forties and fifties, all in black-and-white art deco.

Before the grand opening, they'd exchanged vows on the empty stage, decorated with balloons and streamers in the club's trademark colors. Afterward, their friends and families joined them for a buffet dinner, followed by dancing long into the night.

That had been almost a year ago, and she couldn't remember ever being happier. She had a new husband, a new home, and big news to tell Ethan.

From the corner of her eye, Gwen caught the light from her reading lamp reflecting off the diamond-and-gold bands on her left ring finger. She smiled, twisting the bands slightly, as she thought about surprising Ethan.

Just then the office door opened and Ethan strode inside, bringing the downstairs noise with him until the door was firmly closed again.

"Hey," he said softly, smiling that warm, loving smile that always caused her heart to flip over in her chest. "Don't let me interrupt your reading."

Marking her page, she set the book aside and sat up. "That's all right. I couldn't concentrate, anyway."

He crossed the room and pulled her to her feet for a quick kiss. "Music bothering you?"

"Nope," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. "I was thinking."

"About what?"

"You, and how much I love you."

"Is that right?" He glanced over her shoulder to where the book lay. "Should I apologize for tearing you away from Jane and Mr. Rochester?"

She grinned, warmth spreading outward from the center of her chest. "You've been reading behind my back."

"I've got to keep up with my little librarian wife, don't I? And for your information, I liked the story. I'm halfway through Wuthering Heights now."

If possible-and she didn't think it was-she loved him even more for taking an interest in her job, as well as one of her greatest pa.s.sions.

"I'm impressed."

"Mmm." He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Enough to tuck me into bed tonight and tell me a story?"

"You want me to read to you?" she asked with some surprise. That was something they hadn't tried yet. Not that it wouldn't be fun.

"Not necessarily. I was thinking you could make something up. Something s.e.xy and naughty."

"Ah, you want me to play Scheherazade."

"Arabian Nights, right?" he asked, looking eager for her answer.

She grinned. "Right. You're not ready to go home yet, though, are you?"

The clock on the wall showed it was much earlier than he usually left the club on busy nights like tonight.

"I do have a few things to take care of yet, but I shouldn't be much longer. You're not too tired to hang around, are you? I can call you a cab, if you are. Or run you home, then come back."

"No, I'm fine," she told him, shaking her head and watching as he moved to take a seat behind his wide desk.

Surprisingly, she felt great, for being in her first trimester. Perhaps that was why Ethan hadn't noticed her condition yet. She was anxious to see his reaction when he found out he was going to be a daddy.

"Ethan," she said, rounding his desk and resting a hip on its edge.

She was nervous, despite the fact that she knew he wasn't opposed to having children. That was only one of the many things they'd discussed during their lengthy get-to-know-you period. She just didn't know how he would feel about her getting pregnant so soon.

Leaning back in his chair, he covered her denim-clad knee with a large palm and began stroking small circles with his thumb. His gaze held hers as he waited for her to continue.

"I have a surprise for you, and I'm hoping you'll be happy about it."

The corners of his mouth curved up in amus.e.m.e.nt. "You didn't use the credit card to charge more furniture for the new house, did you? If you keep shopping, I don't know where we'll put it all."

"No, nothing like that."

Although, they would have to do a bit more shopping in the ensuing months if they hoped to have the nursery ready before the baby was born. But then, they'd been doing a lot of decorating since moving into their new two-story, refurbished Tudor-style house.

A note of seriousness slipped into his voice as he sensed that whatever she had to tell him had her feeling anxious. "Okay, what is it?"

She took a deep breath and dove in, much as she had the night of her thirty-first birthday.

But look how well that had turned out.

With a smile, she mouthed the words, "I'm pregnant."

He blinked, otherwise remaining perfectly still for several long seconds. "Excuse me?"

"Pregnant. I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby."

"I thought that's what you said," he mumbled, a dazed expression falling over his face. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure," she told him, still waiting for his full reaction. "I took a home pregnancy test and saw the doctor. Both were positive. I'm six weeks along, and if you don't tell me pretty soon whether you're happy or upset, I just might burst into tears."

A beat pa.s.sed, and then he grabbed her up, kissing her with a love and pa.s.sion she'd never known before meeting him. His fingers flexed on her belly, warming her straight through her top and jeans.

"I'm happy," he murmured against her mouth once he'd released her. "Happier than I've ever been in my life. A little scared about being a father, but still...happy."

She gazed into his eyes and smiled. "You'll be a great father," she a.s.sured him. "And we have almost eight months to learn everything we need to know and get over being scared. Lucy and Peter can help us out, too, I'm sure."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "In that case, I'm in trouble. I gave Peter a rough time when he was nervous about impending fatherhood. I can only imagine how much fun he'll have repaying the favor."

"Maybe if you offer to babysit little Shane a couple times, he'll forgive you. He and Lucy have been trying to get some alone time for a while now."

"Babysitting, huh? Will you come with me and help me out?"

"Of course. It will be good practice."

Minutes ticked by while he stared intently at the area of her belly, rubbing his hand tenderly over the spot where their child nestled.

"A baby," he breathed with wonder. "I can't believe it." And then he raised his gaze to hers. "You've made all my dreams come true, Gwen. I hope you know that."

Tears welled in her eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hold them back.

"Oh, no," she said, waving a hand in front of her face. "I think this is one of those pregnant crying jags I was warned about."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "You've made all my dreams come true, too. Dreams I didn't even know I had. I love you, Ethan."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he whispered just before his mouth molded to hers.

When they finally got home that night and climbed into bed, Ethan was the one who told her a story...the story of a shy princess and a lonely prince who found each other, fell in love and lived happily ever after.

Sarah Mayberry.

Cruise Control.

1.

"ANNA JACKSON?"

Anna swiveled on her heel, turning toward the voice. The woman standing in front of her on the busy Sydney street was dressed in a neat navy suit, her hair perfectly coiffed, her face stretched into an expression of incredulity.

"It is you!"

Anna smiled. She still got a buzz out of people's reactions to the new her. Especially her old law colleagues.

"Hey, Mary. How are things?"

"You look so different!" Mary said, shaking her head. "I would have walked right past you. I mean, I nearly did."

"It was time for a change. You know how it is." Anna shrugged.

Mary's hand strayed to her own sensible brown bob as she eyed Anna's new short and spiky platinum blond haircut. "I haven't seen you around for ages," Mary said, fis.h.i.+ng for information.