A Convenient Proposal(9)



Griff swallowed hard. “I can do my best. There aren’t any guarantees on that kind of thing.” Boy, could he do his best. He’d be more than willing to make love to her morning, noon and night, given the opportunity.

The baby part, he wasn’t nearly so sure about. His head wasn’t clear enough to consider the inevitable complications.

Still, how many couples actually got pregnant right away? Most of the time it was months before a woman conceived, if not years. He could even do a little cheating, figure out her monthly cycle and avoid the most dangerous times…if things got that far.

“What do you think?” Setting his mug down, he crossed to stand in front of her in the narrow aisle. “Anything I can do to help you decide?” Watching her stormy eyes, he removed the cup from her hands and put it gently on the counter. “For instance, just in case you thought last night was a figment of your imagination…”

Propping his hands on the sink rim behind her slim waist, Griff lowered his head to kiss her again. She was shorter than he’d realized last night on the beach.

Her lips were just as smooth, though, her taste every bit as potent. Forget champagne…he’d be more than satisfied to sip this ripe, mellow flavor over and over again.

She gave a little moan and slid her arms around his neck. He caught a whiff of scent from her skin, as clean and clear as the sea itself. The kisses went on and on, deeper, wilder, while her breasts nestled against his chest and her bare knees hugged one of his. A wave of lust broke over Griff. He was desperate, drowning, totally aroused and barely hanging on to the edge of sanity…and the kitchen counter.

With a gasp, he dragged his mouth free and set his chin on top of her head. “Um, yeah…I think that answered all my questions.” He blew out a breath, took another one. “What do you say? Are you coming with me to Georgia?”

Stepping back, he eased his knee away from the provocation of hers, then blinked a couple of times to bring his eyes into focus.

Her perfect cameo face looked as befuddled as he felt. Her troubled green-gray eyes were the color of the ocean just before rain starts to fall. He saw need and pain and doubt chase like lightning across that horizon.

“Come with me,” he urged. “You’ve got Igor to keep me in line.”

The mischievous delight in her smile socked him right in the gut. “True.” She hesitated a moment longer…or was it a lifetime?

“Okay,” Arden said, finally. “Give me an hour to pack.”



“YOU PACK FASTER THAN any woman I know.”

Arden eyed him with amusement as she carried her bag into the living room. “Are we talking about vast numbers?”

Griff grinned. “Three sisters and two grandmothers, one mom, assorted cousins. And the ex-fiancée who brought her entire wardrobe every time she visited me at school.”

Arden picked up the dog’s bowls and went to the kitchen sink to wash them. “Plus assorted friends, I imagine.” Her emphasis on “friends” gave the word a different meaning.

He waggled a flattened hand. “Maybe one or two. That’s ample, if not strictly vast.”

“You’re right.” The bowls went into a duffel bag along with a small bag of food and a liter bottle of water. The dog’s suitcase, Griff assumed. “I don’t keep all my clothes here on the island. I’ll need to stop in Miami to pick up a few more things.” With her duffel in one hand and Igor’s in the other, she stopped in front of Griff. “Will that lump me in with the rest of your women?”

He stared down at her a moment, considering the question. “No,” he said at last, moving to close the door behind them. “No, I think you’re in a class all by yourself.”

At that, the bags thudded down on the porch’s cement floor. She whirled to glare at him. “There are rules to this arrangement,” she said in a stern voice. “We both have to remember them.”

Griff crossed his arms and braced his shoulders against the door. “Rules?”

She held up one finger. “This is a business deal, not a romance.”

“Okay.” He had to agree. She wouldn’t come, otherwise.

The second finger came up. “This engagement exists in public only. When we’re alone, we don’t need to maintain displays of affection.”

“No?” He shrugged, looking at the bead board ceiling. “Then you won’t be getting pregnant.”

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