Married to His Business (Millionaire of the Month #5)(33)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

Not sure she could get her tongue to work—well, not for talking, anyway—she only murmured, "Mmm-mmm."

"Good," he said. "Because we’re not even close to being finished."

Oh, my, Kendall thought.

He chuckled softly. "First we have to have breakfast." Ooooh, Kendall thought. Breakfast. Right. "And I’m in the mood for something light, delectable and sweet."

Kendall was in the mood for something dark, delectable and spicy. They were going to need a smorgasbord for this.

No! she immediately told herself. They weren’t going to have a smorgasbord. In fact, they couldn’t have breakfast at all. They probably never should have had dinner last night. Or the dessert that had come after. Or the dessert after that, either.

She found her voice and softly said, "Matthias, we need to talk."

He cupped his hand over her breast and said, "No, we need to not talk."

When he started to lean down to kiss her again, she opened her hand lightly over his chest and held firm. Less softly this time, she repeated, "Matthias. We need to talk."

"Kendall—" "Matthias."

He expelled a quiet sound of resolution, then rolled back over to his side of the bed. Enough light flickered from the candles to enable her to make out his expression. But where she might have expected him to be annoyed or unhappy, or even angry at her having halted his advance, instead, he looked kind of dejected.

Dejected, she marveled. Matthias Barton. He’d never looked dejected about anything. Because he’d never been dejected about anything. Then the look was gone, and she told herself she must have just imagined it.

"What do we need to talk about?" he asked. Sounding kind of dejected.

No, annoyed, she told herself. He must be feeling annoyed that instead of romping in the sheets a while longer, she wanted to do some girlie-girl thing like talk about their feelings. But she needed to know how Matthias felt. Especially since she understood how she felt herself.

Inhaling a deep breath, she said very carefully, "What exactly happened here tonight?"

He hesitated a moment before answering, as if he were trying to be careful in choosing his words, too. "Well," he began, "first we had a very enjoyable day in town, and then we came back here."

Actually, Kendall hadn’t intended to go back quite that far, but he seemed to need to stall for a little more time, so she let him off the hook. Hey, it wasn’t as though she knew exactly what to say, in spite of being the one who said they needed to talk.

"Then we fixed a great meal here, with a very nice cabernet—"

In which they’d probably overindulged, she couldn’t help thinking.

"And then we went into the living room and looked out at the lake," he continued. "And then you kissed me—"

"No, you kissed me," she corrected him.

"And then we kissed," he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, "and then we came up to the bedroom and had sex."

She was about to say something in response to that, when he continued, "Then we got hungry and went downstairs to have a snack. Only we stopped in the hallway to, um.have an appetizer."

Kendall opened her mouth to speak, but Matthias continued, "And then we had another appetizer on the landing. And then on the stairs. And then on the living room floor."

She started to talk again, but he went on. "And then we had a snack and came back upstairs and had sex in the bed again. And then we slept. And then we woke up. And now we’re talking. Can we do something else now? Something I want to do? Like have sex?"

By the time he finished, Kendall was only half listening. Because she’d heard what she’d wanted—or, at least needed—to hear halfway through. "So then, it was all just sex?" she asked.

When he hesitated again, she studied his face closely, wishing the light were better. Because no matter what he said next, she wouldn’t know if it was true or not unless she could look him in the eye. One thing she’d learned working closely with Matthias for five years was how to tell when he was being serious or when he was bluffing. But if she couldn’t see his face…

"What do you mean just sex?" he asked in a voice that was void of any emotion at all, something that bothered Kendall even more than it would have bothered her had it been filled with something, even annoyance. At least then she would have known it meant something to him. "Sex isn’t a just thing. Sex is a spectacular thing. And we had some pretty spectacular sex, Kendall. To reduce it to a cliché, wasn’t it good for you, too?"

Oh, it had been more than good, she thought. It had been more than spectacular. Because to her, it had been special. Matthias, she feared, felt differently. And Kendall felt.

Well, she felt different, too. That was what falling in love did to a person. It made them feel different. About everything. Remembering he’d asked her a question that needed an answer, and without thinking, she told him, "It was nice."

"Nice?" he echoed incredulously. "Kendall, my great-

aunt Viola is nice. The Beaujolais Nouveaux last year were nice. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens are nice. Sex with Matthias Barton? That’s not nice. That’s phenomenal."

In spite of the way she was feeling inside, Kendall smiled. Then, unable to help herself, she reached over and cupped his jaw in her palm. "You were wonderful," she told him.

"Phenomenal," he corrected her.

"Phenomenal," she repeated dutifully.

He had been phenomenal, she thought. But she still didn’t know if he was in love. So she turned the conversation to a topic she knew he would understand.

"Matthias," she said carefully, "have you come up with a title for the new position I’ll be filling at Barton Limited?"

It wasn’t as strange a question as it may have seemed. He wasn’t accustomed to talking about his feelings. Although she was confident that he did indeed have feelings for her, she wasn’t sure if they mirrored hers for him. Asking Matthias how he felt in that moment would only make him clam up. Asking him about work, on the other hand, would make him talk. After five years with him, Kendall had learned to read the subtleties of his business-speak. Matthias’s reply to the question she’d just asked would tell her infinitely more than the one to "How do you feel?" would tell her.

"That’s kind of a strange question to ask right now, isn’t it?" he asked. "I mean, aren’t you going to ask me how I feel?"

She shook her head. "I want to hear about the new position. Details this time. Not vague promises."