|Название||Pregnant By The Maverick Millionaire|
|Автор произведения||Joss Wood|
|Жанр||Современные любовные романы|
|Издательство||Современные любовные романы|
“We can’t be both friends and lovers, Kade!” Brodie protested.
“We can be anything we damn well want,” Kade replied. “But for now, why don’t we try to be friends first, figure out how we’re going to be parents together without complicating it with sex?”
He confused and bedazzled her, Brodie admitted. She couldn’t keep up with him. She felt like she was being maneuvered into a corner, pushed there by the force of his will. “I don’t know! I need to think.”
Kade smiled, stepped back and placed his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. “You can think all you want, Brodie, but it isn’t going to change a damn thing. I’m going to be around whether you like it or not.” He ducked his head and dropped a kiss on her temple.
“You might as well get used to it,” he murmured into her ear.
Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire is part of the series From Mavericks to Married— Three superfine hockey players finally meet their matches!
Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire
JOSS WOOD’S passion for putting black letters on a white screen is matched only by her love of books and travelling (especially to the wild places of southern Africa) and, possibly, by her hatred of ironing and making school lunches.
Joss has written over sixteen books for the Mills & Boon KISS, Mills & Boon Presents and, most recently, Mills & Boon Desire lines.
After a career in business lobbying and local economic development, Joss now writes full-time. She lives in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, with her husband and two teenage children, surrounded by family, friends, animals and a ridiculous amount of books.
Joss is a member of the RWA (Romance Writers of America) and ROSA (Romance Writers of South Africa).
Smart. So, so, smart.
Courteous, hot, confident.
He was the entire package, a gorgeous combination of everything any woman would ever want or need for a flash-in-the-pan encounter. That being said, Brodie Stewart knew there were at least a billion women in the world who would slap her senseless for what she was about to do and she didn’t blame them.
“Brodie? Did you hear me? I asked if you want to come upstairs,” Kade whispered into her ear, his hand on her rib cage, his thumb rubbing the underside of her right breast.
She licked her lips and tasted him on her tongue, inhaled the citrus and spice of his soap-scented skin and tipped her head sideways to allow his lips to explore the cords of her neck. Man, he was good at this, Brodie thought.
She should step away, she should stop this...
She’d been saying the same thing for three weeks. She shouldn’t have waited for Kade every early morning on the running trail, shouldn’t have felt the butterflies in her stomach when he loped toward her, a six-foot-plus slab of celebrity muscle. She shouldn’t have laughed at his jokes, responded to his gentle flirting. And she certainly shouldn’t have accepted his offer to return to his place for a lazy cup of Saturday morning coffee/sex after their seven-mile loop around Stanley Park.
As much as she wanted to know what that cocky, mobile mouth could do, she definitely should not have kissed him.
She’d thought she had it all worked out, had convinced herself she could handle this, him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had sex since Jay. There had been a few guys—okay, two—since the accident a decade ago. On paper, Kade was perfect. The ex-professional ice hockey player, now second in charge of the Vancouver Mavericks, was resolutely single. Proudly unavailable and, unlike most females of a certain age, Brodie had no desire to change him. In fact, one of the reasons she’d said yes to his offer for coffee was because she knew exactly what he wanted and it wasn’t a happily-ever-after with her.
Okay, it had been a while and she was out of practice, but why, oh, dear Lord why, couldn’t she get past her hang-ups and have a quick tumble with the gorgeous, very practiced Kade Webb?
Maybe it was because something about him resonated with her, because he was more than a pretty package. Because his kisses were deep and compelling and made her quiver with more than a quick physical connection. He reminded her of love, of intimacy, of emotional connections.
She really didn’t want the reminder.
Brodie peeled herself off Kade’s wide chest and dropped a quick so-sorry kiss on his chin, her lips brushing the golden stubble on his jaw. She rolled off the leather couch, stood up and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling folding doors leading to an expansive balcony. Brodie placed her hand on the cool glass. From this penthouse loft downtown he had the most amazing view of False Creek and the Granville and Burrard bridges. It was a big-bucks view and absolutely fabulous. She took it in...and gave herself time to form a response to his question.
Reluctantly Brodie turned and placed her hands behind her butt, leaning against the glass. Her heart and libido wanted to return to his embrace, trace those long, hard muscles, taste his naturally olive-shaded skin, shove her hands into his loose, surfer-boy