‘Uh-huh.’
‘And that wasn’t the first brick going up in the glass wall,’ he reassured her, seeing the sudden worry in her expression. ‘Because, after you’ve had a shower, we’re going out. I don’t mind where we go or what we do, but I’m going to make a very necessary purchase at some point today. And then I plan to take you out to dinner. And tonight, Katrina Gregory, I’m going to make love with you properly. The way I’ve wanted to since practically the first moment I met you.’
She looked at him, half-shy and so achingly sweet he very nearly forgot himself and made love with her anyway. ‘I sincerely hope that’s a promise,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘Oh, it is. And, Katrina?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Just so you know…I always…’ he kissed her, just for emphasis ‘…always keep my promises.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
AFTER his shower, Rhys dressed, headed for the kitchen and made a cafetière of coffee. He was sitting flicking through a medical journal, nursing a mug of coffee, when Katrina strolled into the room. Dressed casually in jeans and a light sweater, she looked absolutely edible; and when she gave him a shy, sweet smile, he really had to stop himself scooping her up, settling her on his lap and drinking the rest of his coffee with one arm wrapped round her.
Instead, he put the journal on the table and wrapped his hands round his coffee mug to keep them occupied. ‘Hi. Coffee’s still hot if you want some.’
‘This is getting to be a habit, you making me coffee.’ She smiled. ‘But it’s one I could get used to.’ She poured herself a mugful, adding plenty of milk. ‘Have you had breakfast yet?’
‘I waited for you.’
She smiled. ‘Then humour me. I’m going to experiment.’
‘Experiment?’ Oh, the thoughts that word conjured up.
She flushed to the roots of her hair, and he smiled. ‘You’re delicious. And I like the fact that your mind works the same way as mine.’
‘Stop it. I’m going to make breakfast. Get on with reading your journal.’
Was she trying to keep her hands occupied, he wondered, just like he was, so they didn’t end up ripping off each other’s clothes again?
And then he wished he hadn’t thought of that. Because he really, really wanted to take Katrina back to bed and spend the day discovering just where she liked to be touched, where she liked to be kissed.
She busied herself whipping up something in a bowl and heating butter in an omelette pan.
Pancakes for breakfast? he guessed. Sounded good to him.
‘I’ll get plates and cutlery,’ he said. Mainly because it meant he had to walk right past her and that gave him the perfect opportunity to drop a kiss on the nape of her neck. Just so she knew he hadn’t changed his mind while she’d been in the shower. That he still wanted her.
And then, when she tipped the contents of the bowl onto a board, rolled it out and cut out rounds, he realised what she’d just made.
Dough for Welsh cakes.
Not quite traditional ones, as she hadn’t added sultanas. But he could smell the sweet scent of cinnamon. And something else.
‘These are gorgeous,’ he said after the first bite. ‘Cinnamon?’
‘Sorry, it’s not quite traditional—but I loathe sultanas,’ Katrina said. ‘And the vanilla’s my mum’s trick.’ She smiled. ‘I love the scent of vanilla. And you can’t beat a really good vanilla ice cream.’
Eaten in bed, he thought, from one of the small half-litre tubs, sharing the spoon and feeding each other and…
‘Rhys?’
He shook himself mentally. ‘Sorry. Just thinking.’ But the picture was still there in his mind, and he couldn’t help the words sliding out. ‘You. Ice cream. Bed.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘Rhys.’
Her expression mirrored the longing in his head. Clearly she could imagine it, too.
‘We can’t.’ Lord, it was hard to call a halt when his whole body was crying out to him to just pick her up, carry her to her bed and make love with her until they were both out of their minds. ‘We need…’
‘Supplies,’ she finished.
‘Waiting’s going to make it even better,’ he said. Though right at that moment he wasn’t sure he believed that. Every sweet-scented bite of the Welsh cakes made him think of the sweetness of Katrina’s mouth and how much he wanted to kiss her.
Katrina had just about managed to get her libido back under control by the time they’d finished washing up. Though the look in Rhys’s eyes made breathing difficult. It made her remember just how it had felt when he’d kissed her, touched her, stroked her until her body had surged into a climax.