Читать книгу A Mother for Matilda - Amy Andrews - Страница 8

VIC steamed ahead. She needed to sleep. She wanted her bed. In fact she was already on sandman autopilot just putting one foot in front of the other, counting down the minutes until her head could hit the pillow. The day had been emotionally draining and right now she felt as if she could sleep for a week.

It took a few moments for her brain to register the fact that the couple a few paces in front of her had stopped to have a passionate kiss. She was almost upon them before the signals from her eyes penetrated her foggy brain.

‘Oh, God, I’m terribly sorry,’ she apologised as she pulled herself up just short of careening into them.

The couple broke off and the woman gave her a dreamy smile. ‘That’s okay.’

Vic was about to launch into a whole explanation when she realised the man was familiar. A prickle straightened her spine and cleared the fog. ‘Lance?’

She hadn’t seen her ex since he’d been caught with his pants down and they’d split four years before. Thankfully he’d moved to a hospital on the Gold Coast shortly after their break-up. He was still dazzlingly good-looking and yet somehow he just didn’t do it for her.

God! She must be tired!

Lance stared at Vic but recovered quickly. ‘Vic. How lovely to see you again.’ He gave her a decidedly uncomfortable half-smile. ‘Darling, this is Vic Dunleavy.’

Vic appraised the other woman, a young willowy blonde with an impressively perky chest.

Good grief—they were everywhere she looked today.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said politely. Even though she couldn’t have cared less. In truth, she was too tired to care about much of anything.

Lawson joined them and she immediately felt his hand at her elbow. The comfort of his touch, his superior height and bulk were the perfect emotional anchor and she leaned into him a little. ‘You remember Lawson?’ she offered.

Lance nodded stiffly. ‘Of course. Lawson.’

Lawson nodded back not giving a damn whether the jerk remembered him or not. He’d always found Lance a little too pretty for his own good and he guessed it was inevitable that a young, naive Victoria would fall for him. But he hadn’t been surprised when it had ended in Lance’s infidelity.

There was a moment of awkward silence finally broken by the woman. ‘Hi.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m Kathy.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ Lance apologised. ‘This is Kathy. My…’

Another pregnant pause and then Kathy added, ‘Fiance. I just called in to bring him lunch. Doctors work such awful hours, don’t they?’

Vic shook Kathy’s hand automatically, noticing the big fat solitaire sparkling in the sun filtering through the atrium skylight. The smile on Kathy’s face was a mile wide and Vic suddenly felt very lonely.

Every relationship she’d been in had suffered because of her family commitments and she’d learnt early that her situation wasn’t conducive to falling in love. She just didn’t have the time. And then there’d been the inevitable comparisons to Lawson. Maybe in London she’d finally be free to connect with someone…

‘Mmm,’ Lawson muttered.

They made polite conversation for a few more moments and then Lawson intimated they were late for a job, for which Vic could have kissed him. By the expression on Lance’s face, he could have too. No doubt he didn’t want an ex-girlfriend blowing the whistle on his inability to keep his pants on.

‘You okay?’ Lawson asked as they headed for the ambulance bay.

‘Fine.’

It wasn’t until they passed a vending machine that Vic realised she wasn’t feeling at all fine. She was light-headed and a little nauseous. ‘You got some change?’ she asked Lawson.

Lawson fished in his pocket and handed it over without comment. He’d known women long enough to know that some situations required a shoulder, others a hefty dose of alcohol, and the really bad ones chocolate wrapped in some pretty foil packaging.

Vic retrieved the bar from the machine and a few minutes later they were buckled in the van and leaving the hospital. She opened the wrapper and devoured the chocolate bar in a minute.

‘Better?’

‘Marginally.’

‘You want to talk about it?’

‘What?’

‘Lance. Or Ryan.’

‘Thanks, but no.’ She turned away and looked out of the window.

Lawson took the hint and let it be, even though it irritated him to think four years down the track her jerk ex still had the power to upset her. Why it irritated him so much, he wasn’t quite sure.

Vic watched the world whizz by for a few moments, her thoughts tumbling around in her head. Lance the Unfaithful was settling down. ‘I can’t believe he’s getting married,’ she said after a while.

Lawson looked at her sharply. ‘I thought you were over him?’

Vic snorted. ‘I am.’

‘Really?’

She turned to him and rolled her eyes. ‘It was years ago. The man is an adulterous lech.’

‘Yeah. I remember.’ She’d cried on his shoulder for three months. ‘So—’ he shrugged ‘—who cares that he’s getting married?’

Vic watched as the lines on his forehead and around his eyes converged into a frown. How could he possibly understand? Lawson, who had travelled the world without a care until Matilda had come along. It seemed everybody else’s life had begun while she’d been treading water. Hell, even Ryan and Josh were heading off into the world, going to uni in Canberra in a few months’ time.

Seeing Lance today had been unexpected. Add to that lack of sleep and the emotional upheaval of the morning and she was coiled so tight she was ready to burst. It was totally irrational. Ninety days couldn’t come soon enough as far as she was concerned.

‘I don’t.’ Vic faltered. She really, really didn’t. So why the hell was she feeling so churned up? ‘I’m just…tired, I guess.’

Lawson nodded, not overly convinced. But he could most definitely relate. He had to be pretty damn tired himself for this to be bothering him. ‘Why don’t you put your head back and catch some Z’s.’

Vic shut her eyes gratefully. They felt as if they were sticking out of her head on stalks and the relief was instantaneous. She let her head loll back against the padded rest and almost sighed out loud.

When she opened them again fifteen minutes later, Lawson was pulling into her driveway.

‘This is your stop.’

Vic unbuckled. ‘Thanks.’

Lawson nodded. ‘Will you be okay? Want me to stay for a while?’ He thought about her boxer-short pyjama bottoms and prayed like hell she’d reject his chivalrous offer.

‘Nah. You need your sleep too. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.’

Lawson nodded. ‘Sleep tight.’

Vic alighted the vehicle and waved her partner off. She walked through the front door that none of them had thought to shut never mind lock as they’d left. It was at times like these she appreciated living in a small community where theft or crime of any nature was practically non-existent.

It took her half an hour to clean up the kitchen, take a shower and ring the hospital to check on Ryan, who wasn’t back from Theatre yet. By the time she was done it was early afternoon and Vic would have crawled on broken glass to get to her bed. Her head hit the pillow and the feel of Lawson’s hand at her elbow guided her into the comforting embrace of sleep.

Lawson was contemplating hitting the sack again at nine that night when there was a rap on his door. He’d been lying on his couch in front of the television pretending interest in some B-grade movie.

He frowned, rising from the lounge and making his way through the darkened house. He didn’t bother with switching lights on, not wanting to wake Matilda, who was a notoriously light sleeper.

He wondered who it was, hoping it wasn’t a neighbour requiring medical assistance who’d decided it was quicker to knock on his door than call an ambulance. Unfortunately in their small community it was a reasonably common occurrence.

Lawson was surprised to find his partner standing there when he opened the door. She was wearing jeans and a red top—a top Lawson couldn’t stop himself from noticing clung temptingly to her petite frame. Her hair was loose around her face, and her lips shimmering with gloss. ‘Shouldn’t you be tucked up in bed asleep?’ he asked.

Vic smiled. Even in the subdued lighting she could see the man filled out blue jeans and a T-shirt better than any guy she’d ever known. ‘Probably.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why I’m here.’ The words tumbled out before she’d given them adequate consideration. But it was true—she’d been in the car coming back from the hospital and suddenly she was here. ‘I’ve just come from seeing Ryan and guess I’m too restless to go home yet.’

Lawson, used to having Victoria in his house, stepped back. ‘You don’t need a reason, Victoria. Come in.’

His partner liked to talk when something was troubling her and, as it was usually about a case they’d done, he was generally the first port of call. At least he didn’t have to stand on any ceremony with Victoria. She was a familiar fixture around the house, being a regular babysitter for Matilda over the years and totally blind to any sloppy housekeeping. Thankfully living with two teenage boys had inoculated her against mess.

‘Is everything okay with Ryan?’

Vic nodded as she made her way into the lounge room. ‘Yep. All good. The operation went well. The surgeon’s happy. His haemoglobin was low though and they transfused two bags of blood.’

Lawson nodded as he flicked on a couple of lamps that threw a warm glow around the room. ‘Hang on a sec.’ He tiptoed into the hallway and quietly shut Matilda’s door. ‘He looked good a couple of hours ago,’ he said, rejoining her. ‘Tilly and I dropped by for a while.’

Vic sat on Lawson’s very comfortable, saggy old leather lounge and felt instantly at home. ‘Dad said you called in.’

Lawson shrugged. ‘Tilly was fretting. Would you like something to drink?’

‘Sure.’ Vic sighed and snuggled into the cushiony folds of the three-seater to the muffled sounds of Lawson in the kitchen. The television was down low and the flicker of light emanating from the screen was hypnotic to weary eyes.

‘Here you go.’ Lawson handed her a glass and placed a bottle of red wine on the coffee table. He sat at the opposite end of the sofa to her and turned three quarters so they were facing.

Vic took a sip of the rich Shiraz and shut her eyes as the heavy bouquet filled her senses. Her eyes fluttered open as Lawson took a swig out of a long-necked beer. ‘Real men only like to drink beer, huh?’

Lawson smiled. She had her glass snuggled against her chest, her legs tucked up and her feet bare. If she knew what he was thinking now about real men and what they liked she’d be shocked.

Despite himself his gaze was drawn to her wide mouth and the way the glow from the lamps glistened in her lip gloss. Watching her mouth was dangerous, but then looking at any part of her tonight was dangerous. Her clingy red top touched all the right places, destroying his concentration.

This sudden awareness of Victoria, of his partner, of Bob’s daughter, was getting out of hand. He wisely chose to change the subject instead. ‘So, what gives?’

Vic shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ All she knew was she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to have to play any roles tonight. To be the dutiful daughter, the caring sister. The ‘parent’. Reassuring her father and Josh, building them up, being there for them. Maybe tonight she just wanted someone to take care of her for a change.

Lawson nodded. ‘Okay.’ It was obvious something was eating her and he knew if he waited she’d tell him.

She dropped her head on the side and inspected him through lashes at halfmast. Just hearing his voice was enough at the moment. It was deep and calming and oozed a confidence that was soothing to the sudden well of conflict that had risen, unbidden and unwanted, inside.

‘ I should have known Ryan would do anything to get out of his biology exam.’

Ah. Here it was. The recriminations. ‘Victoria.’

She ignored the gentle reprimand in his voice, staring into the ruby depths of her glass. ‘I should have stayed up until they’d gone off to school. Like I did when they were kids.’

‘Victoria. They’re not little boys any more. They’re seventeen. You’d just come off three nights. You’re allowed to sleep.’

She looked at him and nodded. ‘What the hell was Ryan thinking? He should have known better than that. I don’t know how often I told those boys not to play with knives.’

‘Of course you did, Victoria. You raised Josh and Ryan with textbook perfection. The twins knew right from wrong from very early. But they’re not little any more and they’re responsible for their own actions. They’re going to be flying the nest in a few months. Maybe its time to let go a bit, huh?’

She looked back into her wine. With the bloodied kitchen floor still playing in her head and the worst-case scenario taunting the edges of her consciousness his praise over her mothering skills was just what she needed right now. As was his unsolicited advice to cut the apron strings.

She was going overseas in ninety more sleeps, for crying out loud. They were all going to have to get along without her. And as much as the thought of leaving them and this place snagged at a place deep inside her like a jagged nail, they were all going to have to get used to it.

She dragged her gaze away from the glass. ‘Tell me about working in London again. I’m sure you have some stories you haven’t told me yet.’

Lawson regarded her for a second. Was she just changing the subject because he’d hit a little too close to home or did she need some kind of assurance that she was doing the right thing? He wasn’t sure what it was about—he’d never seen her quite this melancholy before—but he obliged anyway.

Having kicked around the world for most of his twenties, he always had another story. He’d studied to become a paramedic straight from school but the minute he’d qualified he’d taken off for foreign lands, working and playing wherever the whim took him. Until the bombshell that had been Matilda, anyway.

She had well and truly forced him to reassess his life when her mother, a fling on a brief sojourn home, had literally left him holding the baby. So he understood Victoria’s itchy feet and her desire to do something with her life. To live it.

And if he could help her along by enticing her with his adventures, then he was more than willing. Even if the prospect of losing her to the wild blue yonder was disturbing on levels he didn’t want to admit.

A couple of hours later Vic was nearing the end of her second glass of wine and a lovely buzz had settled in her veins. She felt just brave enough to pry. ‘So have you emailed Brianna yet?’

Lawson, who had finished his beer a long time ago, frowned. ‘Brianna?’

Vic laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘From today. At the hospital? Lawson, oh, Lawson,’ she mimicked.

Lawson chuckled. ‘Not yet. I’ll have to do that tomorrow.’

‘You know she doesn’t give two hoots about the website, right?’

Lawson looked affronted. ‘What are you suggesting?’

Vic slapped her forehead. ‘Good Lord, for an intelligent man you’re thick sometimes.’

Lawson stilled. ‘You think she was flirting with me?’

‘Lawson, she was coming on so heavy I thought Ryan would asphyxiate from an overdose of oestrogen before they got him to Theatre.’

It’d been so long since he’d been in the game Lawson was pretty much ignorant to the subtleties of flirting. His priority had been Matilda and, Lord knew, life as a single father was a constant enough juggle without throwing a relationship into the mix. He shrugged. ‘I didn’t really notice.’

Vic tisked. Sometimes she thought her crush would evaporate if Lawson weren’t so damn available. ‘All work and no play makes Lawson a dull boy.’

‘I play,’ he protested.

‘Lawson, you haven’t been on a date in I don’t know how long. Well over a year. What happened to the love-them-and-leave-them Lawson I knew when I was growing up? What’s the matter with you?’

‘I became a father.’

Vic rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, sure, but you didn’t die, Lawson. There was a great-looking woman making eyes at you and you were completely oblivious.’

‘I’m out of practice.’

She shook her head.

‘I’m…busy.’ God, he sounded pathetic. ‘I have Matilda to think about, after all.’

Vic rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, please! Your kid is dying to be a flower girl again. You could marry the archetypal wicked stepmother and she couldn’t care less as long as she got to throw rose petals at her feet.’

Lawson laughed. Matilda had been rather transparent in her attempts to marry him off since his sister got married a few months back.

He shrugged. ‘You know how hard it is with kids to form relationships. It takes a really understanding person. Someone selfless. And that’s hardly a fair ask.’

Vic nodded. She did know. None of her boyfriends had understood her commitment to her family. They said they did, paid lip service to it, but when push came to shove, and she had to cancel yet another date because the twins were sick or her father had been called out, they never stuck around.

Hell, Lance had even gone one step further and looked elsewhere when she wasn’t around to service his needs.

So she could certainly sympathise with Lawson. At least he could get some comfort from the fact that he’d had a life first. That was something she couldn’t claim.

She glanced at him. They were closer now than they’d been earlier. He looked all brooding and intense and so all she wanted to do was lay her head on his shoulder and go to sleep. To forget about her responsibilities for a night and have someone look after her for once.

Obviously the wine had gone to her head.

She yawned and sat her empty glass down on the coffee table. She hiccupped and then laughed. ‘Wow, I think I’m a little tipsy.’

Lawson raised an eyebrow. She’d had two glasses of wine in a couple of hours—hardly excessive. ‘I didn’t realise you were such a cheap date.’

Vic nodded, shutting her eyes. ‘I’ll probably have an almighty headache in the morning.’

Lawson’s gaze was drawn to the way her lashes grazed her cheeks. ‘I’ll call you a cab to take you home.’

Her eyes fluttered open. Home? No, she wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Here with Lawson she could just be herself. She wasn’t ready to go back to reality. ‘Do you think it would it be okay to crash here?’

Lawson hesitated. He wasn’t sure why—it just didn’t feel…appropriate. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t the first time she’d bunked down here. Most times she watched Matilda for him she usually slept the night on his couch. Lawson wavered. He knew it should be cut and dried but for some reason it wasn’t. He became aware of their closeness and consciously sat up straighter.

Vic frowned at her partner’s continuing silence, searching for another reason to stay. ‘Please, Lawson. The last thing Dad needs on top of a son who nearly bled to death in the kitchen today is an inebriated daughter.’

‘You’re hardly inebriated, Victoria.’

She dismissed his observation with a wave of her hand. ‘I have two teenage brothers, remember? I have to set a good example for them.’

If anyone knew the extent of Victoria’s sacrifices for her brothers it was Lawson. But even so they occasionally slapped him in the face. Victoria hadn’t had a normal childhood or teenage years. She hadn’t had a chance to rebel or experiment like a lot of teenagers, as he had.

Which was probably why two glasses of wine on top of three night shifts had gone straight to her head.

She’d had her hands full helping her dad bring up two babies and run the house. Even when she’d done her paramedic training in Brisbane she’d commuted every day for three years. No wonder she was counting the days down until her life could begin.

Vic watched as Lawson hesitated. A funny thought drifted through her head and with the alcohol blunting her inhibitions she spoke it without further analysis. ‘I promise not to try and seduce you.’

Lawson almost choked on his tongue, which developed into a coughing fit. He leapt to his feet. ‘Not funny, Victoria,’ he rasped when he’d regained his breath.

Vic laughed. She supposed not. Although the idea was seriously tempting here in the half-light after two glasses of wine. What would happen if she took her crush one step further?

‘You are my partner,’ Lawson continued. ‘I have known your father for twenty years. I have a child. You are leaving in ninety days.’

Vic laughed. ‘Yeah, yeah. Relax, Lawson, I’m only joking.’

Lawson rolled his eyes as his heart rate settled. ‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered, heading for his bedroom. ‘Take my bed. I’ll have the couch.’

‘Oh, no, no, no,’ she protested, following him. ‘It’s okay. I’m smaller. I always sleep on the couch. The couch is fine.’

Lawson stopped just inside his door and turned, not expecting her to be so close. He took a step back, narrowly avoiding a collision. ‘My room has black-out blinds. I have a feeling you may need them in the morning. Plus Tilly will be up at the crack of dawn and I doubt that’s something you want to experience with a thumping head.’

Vic couldn’t fault his thinking. ‘Okay then. You’ve sold me.’

They stood for a moment looking at each other. ‘Well,’ Lawson said, stepping to the left. Victoria moved at the same time in the same direction. She gave a half-laugh and stepped to the right as Lawson also dodged right. He laughed this time and grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her in place as he stepped around her.

‘Goodnight,’ he said on his way out of the door.

Vic turned. ‘Lawson?’

He swung around. ‘Yes?’

‘I don’t suppose you have something I can take to cut the headache off at the pass?’

Lawson chuckled. ‘Sure. I’ll get it.’

Vic watched him leave, slipped out of her jeans and then lifted her top over her head. She pulled his bed covers back and gratefully crawled beneath. Lawson’s bed felt like a feather duvet floating on a cloud. But then anything that allowed her to recline would have felt as soft—even a bed of nails. The alcohol and a mere four hours’ sleep enveloped her and she shut her eyes surrendering to the bliss of being horizontal.

Not even her weird-o-meter, which was blaring loudly, was enough to rouse her. The vague feeling that being in Lawson’s bed was blurring their professional and friendship boundaries nagged at the peripheries of her rapidly dwindling consciousness, just out of her grasp. Hell, she’d never even been in his bedroom before. It was…intimate. Not something friends, colleagues, did. Certainly not something they did.

Lawson entered the darkened room a few minutes later with a glass of water and two headache pills. Some ambient light from the street outside filtered through his curtains and he looked down at her, the covers pulled up to her chin, her hair loose on his pillows.

‘Victoria?’

She stirred as his voice floated towards her. ‘Mmm?’

He sat on the side of the bed. ‘Here.’

Vic prised open an eye and saw the white tablets on the palm of his hand. Sleep clawed at her bones, making them heavy and resistant, but she pushed through it, sitting up. She drew her knees to her chest and downed the pills gratefully along with the entire glass of water.

‘Thanks, Lawson.’ She handed him back the glass. ‘For everything. For coming to my rescue with Ryan. And the company tonight. And the bed. And the tablets.’

Lawson watched as the sheet slipped a little to reveal a red bra strap before she hiked it back up again. He looked away quickly. ‘What are partners for?’

Vic smiled and stroked her cheek against the sheet covering her knees. ‘I like the smell of your sheets,’ she murmured.

He grimaced. ‘Sorry, I should change them.’

‘No, they’re fine,’ she dismissed. The bed was all she needed—sheets were a luxury. ‘They smell like you.’

Lawson’s breath caught in his chest. ‘Oh? And how do I smell?’

Vic sighed, closing her eyes, inhaling his essence again. ‘Like Matilda’s strawberry-shortcake soap I buy her every Christmas and that great aftershave you wear.’

Lawson’s belly clenched. She noticed his aftershave ?

‘And freshly cut grass.’

Lawson laughed as the tension inside him uncoiled a little. ‘Grass?’

‘Yeah, you know. Earthy. Male.’

‘Well, thank you. I think.’ And he laughed again.

Vic lifted her head off her knees. She liked hearing him laugh. He didn’t do it often enough. The light coming in through the window illuminated his face, emphasising his masculinity and highlighting his scar. Curiosity and no doubt the effects of alcohol had her crossing a line she’d never crossed before.

She lifted a hand and touched her finger to it, tracing it from just under his nose across his lips and down his chin. Lawson stopped laughing and pulled away from her as if she’d trekked a burning match across his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, dropping her hand. ‘I was just curious. You never talk about it and Dad’s warned me it’s a touchy subject but…I don’t know…blame the Shiraz…’

Lawson made a conscious effort to relax his jaw. ‘No. It’s okay. It happened a long time ago when I was in a different place in my life that I don’t like to dwell on.’

Vic nodded. ‘Of course.’ But she was curiously hurt by his reluctance to share it with her. They were partners and yet sometimes she felt as if she didn’t know him at all. God knew, he knew everything there was to know about her.

Lawson felt a spike of guilt lance him at her downcast face. ‘I was in an accident. When I was sixteen. My home life was…unhappy. We moved around a lot and my father liked to drink. One night some mates were going on a late-night high-speed joyride with some older guy they knew who had this souped-up car and I thought, Why not? The car crashed. The driver died. Everyone was seriously injured. I had facial and chest injuries and had to be cut out of the vehicle. I spent nearly three months in hospital.’

Vic gasped. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Lawson shrugged. ‘I was trapped for two hours. This paramedic stayed with me the entire time. I’ve never forgotten it.’

‘Is that why you became one?’

Lawson nodded. ‘If it hadn’t been for that crash, I don’t know where I would have ended up.’ He’d certainly been heading for a dead-end job and a chip on his shoulder.

Vic felt a rush of incredible tenderness for the man and heartache for the teenager he’d been. She’d always known her partner was a complex human being with a rough childhood, but this put him in a whole new light. She couldn’t bear that he’d been through so much pain.

She touched his scar again and this time, though he flinched, he allowed it. Then, she wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the whole emotional upheaval of the day, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to it, the desire to kiss it better too powerful to resist. ‘Poor Lawson,’ she whispered.

Lawson sat very still, her lips at his chin. He shut his eyes as the fleeting press of her lips stirred desires he’d long ago forgotten existed. She was so close. Her warm breath wrapped his gut in seductive tendrils.

He only had to shift slightly and he could claim her mouth. He didn’t move as the battle raged within him. He wanted to kiss her so badly he was salivating. Like a starving man being led into a bakery. But she’d been drinking. And she was his partner. His much younger partner whom he’d known since she was in pigtails. And she was leaving.

Vic liked the spikiness of his stubble against her lips and this close to him she got to smell all those aromas she’d told him about but with the added mix of his warm male skin. The room was utterly silent except for their breath and even in her tipsy state she was hyperaware of a very weird vibe settling around them.

Lawson dragged in a breath. This was so screwed up and he wasn’t going to add to it by doing something totally unforgivable. With a mammoth effort he sat back from her.

‘Go to sleep, Victoria. It’s been a long day.’ He stood and reached over to pull the blind down. ‘When you wake up it’ll only be eighty-nine more sleeps.’

Vic smiled at the thought as she slid down into the bed and snuggled into the sheets, sighing as her eyes drifted shut. ‘Night, Lawson. Sweet dreams.’

Lawson watched her for a few seconds before turning on his heel. Sweet dreams? Was she kidding? Something had shifted between them tonight, the boundaries had moved, and with the imprint of her lips still scorching his chin he’d be lucky if he ever slept again.