Taming the Tycoon by Amy Andrews Page B

her gently. The feeling from last night of being an old married couple returned and she smiled to herself.
    “Are you going to bed like that?”
    Addie opened her eyes to find him over his side of the bed in his briefs and black T-shirt. Way, way over. Which was just as well, because if she thought he’d looked good— indecently good—last night, he’d exceeded that tenfold through her wine goggles.
    He was everything and more from last night.
    Last night upsized.
    Dipped in chocolate and rolled in sprinkles.
    With a cherry on top.
    “Nope,” she said. “Any minute now I’m going to take this dress off and sleep in my underwear. Can you handle that?”
    He chuckled again and she practically purred under his lazy blue gaze. “As long as you stay on your side of the bed.”
    Addie smiled as she recalled his earlier threat should they again find themselves in the same predicament they had this morning. She shivered at the possibilities, her nipples tightening in response. His gaze drifting to the hard points felt like a caress and it took all her willpower not to arch her back.
    She opened her mouth to make a pithy comeback, but he grimaced as he maneuvered his leg into bed.
    Guilt pricked at her. “Is it your ankle?”
    “Damn thigh,” he muttered. “It’s fine. I’ve just been standing on it a lot today.”
    It didn’t look fine to her as Nathaniel sat rigidly in bed for a few moments. He’d gone all day without his crutches and was obviously paying for it now. She rolled her head to the side, spying on her bedside table the pot of ointment Eunice had given her last night.
    Good and hard echoed through her head.
    “Here,” she said holding it out for him. “Maybe this will help.”
    Nathaniel snorted. “No, thanks. I’d rather have an amputation with no anesthetic. Besides,” he said collapsing back against the mattress, eyes shut, “I’m too bloody tired to be bothered.”
    Addie frowned at his tough-guy act. Typical male. She unscrewed the lid, bracing for the awful stink Nathaniel had warned her about. Instead, a sweet, heady aroma embraced her. Honey and vanilla she could make out instantly. And something floral.
    It smelled good enough to eat, certainly pleasant enough to use for its intended purpose—especially if it worked.
    Had she not been tipsy, she’d have thought twice about her next move. About the line it would cross. About the ground she could lose to him. But she was tipsy. She vaulted upright. “Okay, then. Allow me.”

    Nathaniel’s eyes snapped open as she crawled toward him on her knees, hiking up the skirt of her dress to enable her free movement.
    This was potentially a very, very bad idea.
    Playing with Addie might be fun, but he wasn’t too far gone to not be mindful of the consequences.
    But then she threw her leg over his until she was straddling his knee, her skirt settling around her. She looked down at him with purpose in her big, gray eyes and said, “You have got to smell this.” She pushed it toward him. “It’s incredible.”
    Her nipples were still erect and his knee was damned close to that part of her that had rubbed against him so intimately this morning.
    Okay—now he was too far gone.
    He was back to Adam and Eve and that damn apple again.
    This time he took it. What the hell—he’d never been a saint. And it did indeed smell incredible.
    The perfect entrée to sin.
    He handed it back to her. “For once, my grandmother’s secret potions don’t smell like Bill’s effluent system.”
    Addie smiled as she dabbed two fingers in the pot. “Please don’t remind me.”
    Nathaniel swore his skin actually sizzled when Addie smeared the dollop of ointment mid-thigh. His breath grew choppy. His belly tensed. His pulse leapt.
    As did other parts of his anatomy.
    Addie looked up from his thigh. “Tell me if I hurt you,” she murmured.
    Nathaniel grunted, pleased to hear her voice was husky, that she was as affected as he was. It was gratifying to not be in