Return to You

She caught her breath as he added dobs on top
of each nipple. Each deliberate stroke chocolate stoked the fire
he'd started with the first kiss.
    Olivia gasped, clutching the comforter under her. "I
don't know how much more of this I can take."
    "I can stop."
    "I'm not sure that would be any less painful."
    "Then how about if I do this." He bent his head and
licked up her belly all the way to her neck, following the line of
chocolate he'd painted on her. "Delicious," he murmured against her
throat.
    "I'm going to die." She groaned and speared her
fingers in his hair as he laved a particularly sensitive spot on
her throat.
    He chuckled. "You always did love that."
    She did? He did it again. Yep, okay, she believed
him. Even if she couldn't remember.
    He dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth,
sucking until all the chocolate had to be dissolved and gone and
then sucking some more. It felt like an eternity before he moved
onto her other nipple, which was taut and begging for his
attention.
    "My turn." She lifted her hips and rolled him over
so she was on top.
    "But this is my fantasy."
    "Deal with it." Reaching for the jar, she dipped her
index finger inside and smeared a long line down his cheek to his
mouth and throat. She paused, staring at the spot under his ear
where his pulse beat and wondered if he'd be as sensitive there as
she was.
    She shrugged again and added an extra dollop. They
were about to find out.
     
     
    Rick squirmed in his seat. He needed to put the
binoculars down. He knew any red-blooded man would be watching,
especially when it was part of his job. For a PI like him, being a
voyeur was second-nature.
    Only in this case it was Olivia, and it felt
wrong.
    He cursed again. He needed to focus. He was here on
business.
    Rick swung his binoculars around, adjusting the
knobs so he could refocus on his subject.
    Elaine Adams was slowly walking in circles around
Olivia's grandmother's garden like it was some kind of labyrinth.
At night, when it was freaking cold out.
    Ms. Adams started back toward the house. Rick sighed
in relief. If she was going in, he could pack up and go home, and
then he wouldn't be tempted to intrude on Olivia's privacy.
    But then Ms. Adams veered, heading toward Olivia's
window.
    A thread of unease unraveled in the pit of his
stomach.
    Maybe he was overreacting.
    He grunted. "Right."
    Sure enough, Ms. Adams stopped right in front of the
brightly lit window. Anyone greeted with the scene of a
mostly-naked woman smearing gunk on a mostly-naked man would
stop.
    In this case, watching wasn't an innocent thing.
Rick could almost hear Adams take notes.
    "Shit." He was surprised she didn't feel him boring
a hole through her skin he was watching her so intensely.
    He calculated the chances on this ending up in this
week's Enquirer. "Fair to certain," he muttered, his hands
tightening on his lenses.
    What the fuck was Olivia thinking? Couldn't she have
drawn the curtains? Of course not. Olivia was trusting. She'd never
expect someone to be spying on her, waiting to sell her out.
Especially not someone she'd taken under her wing.
    Rick scowled as he watched Elaine Adams reluctantly
leave the brightly lit window and go inside the farmhouse. Ms.
Adams was going to regret taking on Olivia. He'd make sure of
it.

Chapter Twenty-five
     
     
    The little burgundy bag on the floor taunted
her.
    It was now or never.
    Lainie dumped out the contents of the Romantic
Notions bag on the bed. With a deep breath, she resolutely pulled
the white negligee over her head, letting it pool down her body
like a whisper.
    She turned around and gawked at her image in the
mirror. She couldn't go out there in a transparent gown, no matter
what Olivia thought. She slipped into the matching robe and looked
at her reflection again.
    Marginally better, but still awfully translucent.
Was that the outline of her nipples?
    She blushed, but one thing was certain: if Everett
saw her like this, she'd know whether he was interested or not.
    What choice did she have? Cower behind her desk for
the rest of her life?
    Shaking her head, she strode out of her room. She
reached the kitchen and sighed when she saw it was empty.
    Not bothering with the light, she went to the
cupboard, pulled out a glass, and filled it with water from the
tap. She downed it, wishing it was some of Everett's fine scotch
instead. Filling it again, she drank a second glass, more slowly
this time.
    She rinsed her glass out and set it to dry.