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

their home movies.

      She had been so transfixed by the image of the two of them in the shower that she hadn’t heard him come in. He’d taken his keys from the lock and gave them an extra jingle to alert her to his presence. When that didn’t work he’d shut the door with more force than necessary, but she hadn’t even flinched. He’d tried rustling the plastic bags he was holding, and determined at that point that it was a lost cause. She had been so captivated, it was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. Then he’d stepped closer to the couch, seen the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the blush of arousal in her cheeks. She’d clenched the edge of the couch, looking as though she were about to climb out of her own skin.

      The last time he’d seen her that turned on was when they had made that DVD.

      In that instant he knew he wanted her, and it was just a matter of time before he gave in and let her have her way with him. But he’d wanted to wait and make sure everything went all right with her doctor appointment. And now he’d been given a green light.

      When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Do you feel like you’re ready?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I won’t be sure until I try.”

      He waited for her to suggest that they try right now, but she didn’t. Instead she asked, “Are you working late again?”

      “Until at least nine,” he said. “Probably later.”

      She sighed. “I’ll be really happy when you’re caught up and we can actually see each other for more than ten minutes in the morning before you walk out the door. And maybe one of these days I’ll actually get to make dinner for you.”

      “Soon,” he said, not sure if that was a promise he could, or wanted, to keep. He needed to keep some distance between them.

      He waited for her to bring up the subject of sex again, but surprisingly, she didn’t. “Anything else before I go?” he asked.

      She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

      Oookay. With affirmation from the doctor, he expected her to all but throw herself at him. Why was she acting so … timid?

      He walked to the door and she followed him. “Call me later and I’ll try to wait up for you,” she said.

      “I will.” He leaned down to brush a kiss to her cheek, but this time she turned her head and it was her lips he touched instead. He had kissed Mel at least a million times before, but this time when their lips met he felt it like an electric charge. Her sudden sharp intake of breath told him that she’d felt it, too. They stood that way for several seconds, frozen, their lips barely touching. He waited for her to make her move, but after several seconds passed and she didn’t move, didn’t even breathe as far as he could tell, he took matters into his own hands. He leaned in first, pressing his lips to hers.

      Her lips were warm and soft and familiar and she still tasted like toothpaste. He waited for her to launch herself at him, to dive in with her usual enthusiasm, to ravage him with the deep, searching, desperate kisses that sometimes made him feel as though she wanted to swallow him whole.

      But she didn’t. In fact it took several seconds before he felt her lips part, and she did it hesitantly, as if she was afraid to push too far too fast. Even when their tongues touched it wasn’t more than a tentative taste.

      He’d never kissed her this way before, so tender and sweet. She didn’t dive in with gusto, in what he had to admit sometimes felt more like an oral assault than a kiss. Not that it wasn’t hot as hell, but this was nice, too. In fact, he liked this a lot.

      It was so different, so not Melody. Even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d take this slow, he let himself be drawn in. Let her drag him down into something warm and sexy and satisfying.

      He realized something else was different, too. Melody always wore perfume or body spray. The same musky, sensual fragrance that at times could be a touch cloying. Now the only detectable scent was a hint of soap and shampoo intermingled with the natural essence of her skin and her hair. Honestly, it was sexier and more arousing than anything she could find in a bottle.

      And he was aroused, he realized. He was erect to the point of discomfort and aching for release. If her labored breathing and soft whimpers were any indication, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

      He deepened the kiss and her tongue tangled with his, and she tasted so delicious, felt so good melting against him, he was the one who wanted to ravish her. He had promised himself that he would make her wait a little longer, draw out the anticipation for another day or two, until he really had her crawling out of her skin, but at that precise moment, he didn’t give a damn what he’d promised himself. He wanted her now.

      Just as he was ready to make the next move, take it to the next level, he felt Mel’s hands on his chest applying gentle but steady pressure, and he realized that she was pushing him away.

      He broke the kiss and reluctantly backed off. “What’s wrong?”

      Melody’s cheeks were deep red and he could see her pulse fluttering wildly at the base of her neck. She smiled up at him and said, a little breathlessly, “That was amazing. But I think it’s all I can handle right now.”

      All she could handle? Was she kidding? Once Mel got started she was unstoppable. Now she was actually stopping him?

      Ash was so stunned by her sudden change of heart that he wasn’t sure how to act or what to say to her. She had never told him no. In fact, since he met her, he couldn’t recall a time when he’d even had to ask for sex. She was usually the aggressor, and she had an insatiable appetite. There were even times when he wished they could take a day or two off.

      Now, for the first time in three years, he wanted something that he couldn’t have.

      It was a sobering realization.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, and he realized she was gazing up at him, looking apologetic. “I just don’t want to rush things. I want to take it slow, just like you said.”

      For a second he had to wonder if this was some sort of twisted game. Get him all hot and bothered then say no. But the thought was fleeting because the Melody gazing up at him wasn’t capable of that kind of behavior. He was the one who had all but scolded her for touching him in the hotel room, the one who kept saying that they should take it slowly.

      If anyone was playing games, he was, and he was getting exactly what he deserved.

      “Are you okay?” she asked, her mouth pulled into a frown. “Are you upset with me?”

      He desperately wished she was the old Melody again, so he could use this opportunity to hurt her. But in his mind they had inexplicably split into two separate and distinct people. The good Mel, and the evil Mel. And he knew that he couldn’t hurt this Melody.

      Jesus, he was whipped. He’d gone and let her get under his skin. The one thing he swore he wouldn’t do.

      “No,” he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her. “I’m not upset. Not at all.”

      May as well enjoy it while it lasted, he thought, as she snuggled against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He knew, with her memory slowly returning, it was only a matter of time before the evil Mel was back and the good Mel was lost forever.

      It was inevitable, but damn, was he going to miss her.

      Leaving Mel and going in to work had been tough, but not as tough as it would have been staying with her. Sex had been the furthest thing from his mind the past couple weeks, but now, after one damned kiss, it seemed it was all he could think about. As a result, he was having one hell of a time concentrating on work.

      He took an early lunch, early being noon instead of two or three, and though he didn’t normally drink during work hours, he made an exception and ordered a scotch on the rocks. It helped a little.

      On