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“Meat?” Blaire cast him a dubious sideways glance. “That’s not a sexydescription.”
He kissed her exposed shoulder. She was wearing a robe, belted loosely over her sleeping tank and shorts. “Hmmm … did I ruin my chances for morningsex?”
“Grant Thorne, shame on you,” Blaire said in mock rebuke. “You woke me at four thismorning.”
“That was a pre-dawnfuck.”
“Not to mention how you fucked me right by the elevators when we arrived at the penthouse last night,” his womangrumbled.
“That was a make-up fuck.” Grant smiled against herskin.
The night prior, they had a fight. It started with a disagreement regarding the wedding date before they left for the Harvest Gala. The barbs continued on the way to the event, and when they arrived, Grant wanted nothing more than to bundle Blaire back into the vehicle so they could continue their discussion. Instead, his frustration grew and smiling became a chore, so he quit forcingone.
“Would you please try to smile,”Blaire whispered, annoyance drawing her brows together. “One would think you’re facing a death sentence instead of having just gottenengaged.”
Grant bared his teeth. “Better?”
Blaire’s jaw turned mulish. “December is too soon. What’s wrong with waiting untilMay?”
“Are your feelings going to change between now and May?” he challenged. “Minewon’t.”
“That’s an unfairquestion.”
“I get the feeling you’re hedging—that you’re unsure aboutsomething.”
Blaire looked awayuncomfortably.
Grant suppressed the urge to drag her into a deserted hallway and kiss her into submission. He needed a drink. “I’m going to the bar. Want me to get you a glass ofcabernet?”
Her expression softened as she glanced at him. “That would benice.”
He gave her a chaste peck on the lips and nodded to the silent auction table. “Why don’t you find something forus?”
Grant took that opportunity to give them both a breather, resisting the instinct to glance back and check on her. There was no reason for him to act paranoid. The Diplomatic Security Service was in charge of safeguarding the event because there were several high-profile foreign dignitaries in attendance. Blaire was as safe as she couldget.
As he waited his turn at the bar, he mulled over the real reason why he was pushing for a December wedding. It wasn’t the date itself, but a tactic to find out what she wasn’t telling him. But unlike the uncertainty that hounded him in the beginning of their relationship, he felt an openness in communicating his thoughts without the fear of sending her running. Blaire changed him in a fundamental way as the instinct to shutdown when he got pissed had diminished. Elation expanded in his chest with this self-discovery. His eyes sought her in the room. His gaze narrowed. Well, something else hadn’tchanged.
Hispossessiveness.
A man was busy chatting up his fiancée by the auction table. Grant recognized him as an upstate NY state representative who had recently grabbed the headlines. Abandoning the quest for drinks, he made his way back to hiswoman.
“You were a total caveman,”Blaire sighed, bringing his attention back to the present. It took Grant a moment to register that she was referring to the elevator sex. Her eyes flashed as she pushed against his chest. “Oh … oh… and I had to stop you from going all alpha male at the auction table. You’re lucky I saved you from getting hauled off by the SecretService.”
“That punk-ass congressman had his hand on your back. He had no reason to touch you,” Grant shot back. “And it’s the DSS, baby. The Secret Serviceprotects—”
“Stop,” Blaire cut in dryly. “I don’t need a lecture on federal security agencies. If I need to know, I’ll Google it. My point is I could have handled the situation. I was about to move away when you swooped in like some knight about to rescue a damsel indistress.”
“My job is to protect you,” he growled. “Besides, all I wanted was to talk tohim.”
Blaire eyed him dubiously. “Somehow I have a feeling that chat would end up with me bailing you out of jail this morning.” She patted his cheek. “Aren’t you glad I saved our weekend?” Her eyes twinkled merrily. “We argued about this ad nauseam on the way home last night. Are you plotting another makeup-sexsession?”
Grant grinned crookedly and scratched the scruff at his jaw. “Is itworking?”
She laughed and went on tiptoes to kiss him. “Thanks for defending myhonor.”
“Anytime.”
“Love you, Mr. Thorne,” Blaire said softly as a tender look crossed her face. “Glad you didn’t freeze me out despite looking like you were about to lose yourmind.”
