“I’m not?”

“If you go back, who’s going to haggle for me?” He relaxed back into the couch and gazed up at the ceiling. “And we’re not charging them five grand each for two rocking chairs.”

“Rocking chairs created entirely by hand by the eminent local artist Lachlan MacRyrie.” His gaze shot over to hers and Gwen didn’t even flinch. “In three years’ time those chairs will be worth four times as much.

They’re getting in early and should be damn glad they’re getting the chairs that cheap.”

“Not five.”

“Fine then. Four.”

“Gwen—”

“I’ll go as low as three, but that’s it. And if that Russian gives you a ton of crap she wants you to do, it goes back to five.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m not arguing this with you. And you’re going to let me handle the library estimates or that little wild dog will walk all over you.”

Lock snorted. “Sabina?”

“I’m talking about Jess and her weepy eyes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You carried her around their house.”

“It’s not like I wanted to, but I’m the only one who can get her up high enough so she can do her queenly wave.”

Gwen gave Lock a sidelong glance, amazed she was becoming jealous over a pregnant, happily married wild dog. “That’s pathetic.”

Lock’s heart began to slow down and he felt the panic pass. He hadn’t felt panic like that since he’d walked into the middle of his first firefight. And even then, he didn’t really have the luxury of panic since he’d been way too busy trying not to die.

Yet all this would throw off his carefully timed plans. Should he take the risk and possibly lose all he’d built up so far, thereby setting his ultimate goal back several years? Or not take the risk and end up still doing work he barely tolerated well into his sixties because one excuse after another got in his way?

One thing he did know, he didn’t need the answer tonight. He’d think about it tomorrow.

Gwen checked her watch and winced. “I should get back to the hotel. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I better not.”

Lock grabbed her hand even though she hadn’t moved away. “Don’t go. Stay.”

“I don’t have a change of clothes or even fresh panties, and I can’t go to work without them. I just can’t.”

Tugging her closer, Lock admitted, “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay with me tonight. I want to wake up with you next to me. If I remember correctly, that’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do.”

“Not all the time.”

“We’re still in the honeymoon stage. Indulge me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I promise we won’t stay up late.” He could tell she was weakening, barely putting up a fight. “And I’ll get you up early tomorrow so you can get changed before work.”

He pulled her onto his lap, close to his chest with her knees on either side of his hips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her chest. “Stay with me, Gwenie.” He moved his lips across her collarbone. “Stay with me tonight.”

Her arms slid around his neck, her hands buried deep into his hair. “I’ve got you so figured out,” she said, her voice soft.

“Me?”

“Yeah. You.” She pulled back a bit and peered into his face. “You call me Gwenie when you want something and Mr. Mittens when you’re trying to tick me off.”

Slipping his hands under her sweatshirt, he lifted it up and off. He nuzzled her bra and then used his mouth to undo the clasp holding the pieces of gray cotton together. “What can I say? I’m busted.”

Gwen shuddered, smiled. “I knew it.”

Lock used his nose to brush the bra cup off her breast and used his lips to tease her nipple. Her hands moved back into his hair and she pulled him closer against her. He suckled her and Gwen’s hips moved against him, soft whimpering sounds turning harsh as he toyed with her. Taking hold of her hands, he pulled them from his hair and to her sides. He then took hold of her bra straps and pushed them off her shoulders, down her arms.

She moved her hands behind her and that’s where, instead of removing Gwen’s bra, Lock used it to bind her wrists behind her.

She made a faint choking sound in her throat and arched her back, giving him complete access to her body. He took it, using his hands to roam every part of her chest, back, sides, and face while he let his mouth give her as much pleasure as she could handle. Gwen continued to rock into him, her moans and whimpers slowly turning into cries. He could do this all day if she let him, for days at a time. There was something about giving her pleasure that he couldn’t get enough of. He craved it like he craved honey and salmon.

As he slid his hands behind her back, his fingers trailing up and down her spine, Gwen’s body began to shake, her thighs gripping him tighter and her head thrown back.

“God…Lock…Christ…”

With one hand braced against her back and the other gently pulling and twisting one nipple while he did the same to the other with his lips, he felt Gwen’s orgasm as her body desperately moved against him, heard it as she cried out his name.

As the last of it slammed through her system, she sat up abruptly, both her hands free. He had a bad feeling about what happened to her bra. She gripped his jaw and kissed him with so much passion he knew he was only falling faster now. So fast he wouldn’t be able to stop if she changed her mind.