Mistress to the Magnate: Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation. Michelle Celmer

the pillow I’ll be out cold.”

      He switched it off and rolled out of bed, grabbing the pajama bottoms he’d set out. “Out in a minute,” he said as he stepped in the bathroom and shut the door. Less than ten seconds later she heard the shower turn on.

      Barely able to keep her eyes open, Melody walked on wobbly legs to the bed. She’d forgotten to grab something to sleep in from her suitcase, and with her case on the floor across the room, it hardly seemed worth the effort. It wasn’t as if he had never seen her naked before, and if she was okay with it, she was sure he would be, too.

      She dropped her towel on the floor and climbed under the covers, her mind going soft and fuzzy as the painkillers started to do their job.

      At some point she heard the bathroom door open and heard Ash moving around in the room, then she felt the covers shift, and she could swear she heard Ash curse under his breath. It seemed as though it was a long time before she felt the bed sink under his weight, or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But finally she felt him settle into bed, his arm not much more than an inch from her own, its heat radiating out to touch her.

      She drifted back to sleep and woke in the darkness with something warm and smooth under her cheek. It took a second to realize that it was Ash’s chest. He was flat on his back and she was lying draped across him. At some point she must have cuddled up to him. She wondered if they slept like this all the time. She hoped so, because she liked it. It felt nice to be so close to him.

      The next time she woke up, she could see the hint of sunlight through a break in the curtains. She was still lying on Ash, her leg thrown over one of his, and his arm was looped around her, his hand resting on her bare hip. The covers had slipped down just low enough for her to see the tent in his pajama bottoms. It looked … well … big, and for the first time since the accident she felt the honest-to-goodness tug of sexual arousal. She suddenly became ultra-aware of her body pressed against his. Her nipples pulled into two hard points and started to tingle, until it felt as though the only relief would come from rubbing them against his warm skin. In fact, she had the urge to rub her entire body all over his. She arched her back, drawing his leg deeper between her thighs, and as she did, her thigh brushed against his erection. He groaned in his sleep and sank his fingers into the flesh of her hip. Tingles of desire shivered straight through to her core.

      It felt so good to be touched, and she wanted more; unfortunately, the more turned on she became, and the faster her blood raced through her veins, the more her head began to throb. She took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart. It was clear that it would be a while before she was ready to put her body through the stress of making love.

      That didn’t make her want Ash any less, and it didn’t seem fair to make him keep waiting, after having already gone through months of abstinence, when there was no reason why she couldn’t make him feel good.

      Didn’t she owe him for being so good to her? For sticking by her side?

      Melody looked at the tent in his pajamas, imagined putting her hand inside, and was hit with a sudden and overwhelming urge to touch him, a need to please him that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, almost like a shadowy memory, hazy and distant and just out of reach. It had never occurred to her before, but maybe being intimate with him would jog her memory.

      She slid her hand down his taut and warm stomach, under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She felt the muscle just below the skin contract and harden under her touch. She moved lower still, tunneling her fingers through the wiry hair at the base. He was so warm there, as if all the heat in his body had trickled down to pool in that one spot.

      She played there for just a few seconds, drawing her fingers back and forth through his hair, wondering what was going on in his head. Other than the tensing of his abdomen and the slight wrinkle between his brows, he appeared to be sleeping soundly.

      When the anticipation became too much, she slid her hand up and wrapped it around his erection. The months without sex must have taken their toll because he was rock hard, and as she stroked her way upward, running her thumb along the tip, it was already wet and slippery.

      She couldn’t recall ever having done this before—though she was sure she had, probably more times than she could count—but she inherently seemed to know what to do, knew what he liked. She kept her grip firm and her pace slow and even, and Ash seemed to like it. She could see the blood pulsing at the base of his throat and his hips started to move in time with her strokes. She looked up, watching his face. She could tell he was beginning to wake up, and she wanted to see his expression when he did.

      His breath was coming faster now and his head thrashed from one side to the other, then back again. She was sure that all he needed was one little push.

      She turned her face toward his chest, took his nipple in her mouth, then bit down. Not hard enough to leave a mark, only to arouse, and it worked like a charm. A groan ripped from Ash’s chest and his hips bucked upward, locking as his body let go. His fingers dug into her flesh, then he relaxed and went slack beneath her.

      Mel looked up at him and found that he was looking back at her, drowsy and a little disoriented, as if he were still caught somewhere between asleep and awake. He looked down at her hand still gripping him inside his pajamas. She waited for the smile to curl his mouth, for him to tell her how good she made him feel, but instead he frowned and snapped, “Mel, what are you doing?”

      Mel snatched her hand from inside Ash’s pajamas, grabbed the sheet and yanked it up to cover herself. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or hurt, or a little of both. But Melody didn’t do angry. Not with him anyway. At least, she never used to.

      “I think the appropriate thing to say at a time like this is thanks, that felt great,” she snapped.

      Yep, that was definitely anger.

      “That did feel great. The part I was awake for.” Which wasn’t much.

      He knew last night, when he’d pulled back the covers and discovered she was naked, that sleeping next to her would be a bad idea. When he woke in the middle of the night with her draped over him like a wet noodle, limp and soft and sleeping soundly, he knew that he should have rolled her over onto her own side of the bed, but he was too tired, and too comfortable to work up the will. And yeah, maybe it felt good, too. But he sure as hell hadn’t expected to wake up this morning with her hand in his pants.

      Before the accident it would have been par for the course. If he had a nickel for every time he’d roused in the morning in the middle of a hot dream to find Melody straddling him, or giving him head.

      But now he almost felt … violated.

      Looked as if he should have listened to his instincts and slept on the damned floor.

      The worst thing about this was seeing her there barely covered with the sheet, one long, lithe leg peeking out from underneath, the luscious curve of her left breast exposed, her hair adorably mussed, and all he could think about was tossing her down on the mattress and having his way with her.

      Sex with Melody had always been off-the-charts fantastic. Always. She had been willing to try anything at least once, and would go to practically any lengths to please him. In fact, there were times when she could be a little too adventurous and enthusiastic. Three years into their relationship they made love as often and as enthusiastically as their first time when it was all exciting and new—right up until the day she walked out on him.

      But when it came to staying angry with her, seeing her in such a compromised condition and knowing that she had no recollection of cheating on him took some of the wind out of his sails. For now. When she got her memory back, that would be a whole other story.

      But that did not mean he was ready to immediately hop back into bed with her. When, and if, he was ready to have sex with her, he would let her know. He was calling the shots this time.

      “I don’t get why you’re so upset about this,” she said, sounding indignant, and a little dejected.

      “You could have woken me up and asked if