Free Spring River Valley: The Winter Collection (Boxed Set) by Clarice Wynter Page A

satisfaction, and once again she lay across him, her breathing deep and regular, while he stroked his fingers up and down the sensuous curve of her back.
    “This is a nice way to wake up,” he said, shifting so his legs entwined with hers.
    “How long has it been since you woke up with someone?”
    He thought of his last relationship. “About a year. I’ve been so busy with work, I hadn’t really thought about being with anyone, until I met you.”
    “No dates, nothing?” He lifted her head and busied herself tracing circles on his chest with her thumb.
    “A few. I work weekends. I find a lot of women don’t appreciate that.”
    “Hmm.” She nodded. “I guess that’s hard on someone who works all week long and wants to go out Friday and Saturday nights.”
    “You work all week long.” This wasn’t a road he wanted to go down at the moment. No use lying in bed trying to figure out why they would never work out as a couple.
    She sat up, smiling. “Apparently I work weekends too, making centerpieces. And…oh crap. It’s Wednesday.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Part of that pesky week I have to work.” She threw herself across him, which he didn’t mind in the least, and grabbed her alarm clock off the nightstand. “I’ve got an hour and a half. Whew. Can I make you some breakfast?”
    “Baby, I just had breakfast.” He rolled her over and kissed the back of her neck and down her spine. She squealed and wiggled out from under him, grabbing the sheet to wrap herself in.
    “Ah, you’re clever. Distracting me like that. You can shower first if you want. I’ll make some toast and coffee.”
    “Don’t worry about me.” He scooped up his clothes from the floor. “I’ll slip out quietly so the neighbors won’t gossip , and I’ll go home. I don’t want to mess up your morning routine.”
    She cocked a brow and gave him a sassy smirk. “Are you implying it’s routine for me to have gentlemen callers in my bed on weekday mornings?”
    He winked. “Only when you drink.”
    She threw a pillow at him. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Bathroom is across the hall.”
    He grudgingly obeyed and hurried off to the bathroom to slip on his hopelessly wrinkled shirt and pants. His tie hadn’t made it to her house , and he only hoped none of the TF staff would have cause to go into the bridal suite first thing this morning. He hadn’t figured out how he would explain parts of his wardrobe having been left there.
     
    * * * *
     
    Harper threw on a nightshirt and a pair of sweats and ran downstairs, her heart thumping wildly and her stomach doing flip-flops. She’d really done it. She’d enticed Grant into her bed, and she wasn’t the least bit sorry. On the contrary, she felt fantastic. The thought of him, those deep blue eyes, his gentle skill in bed, the sound of him whispering her name—she had to hold on to the kitchen counter to keep her knees from buckling. Being bad had never been so much fun. She wanted to go to Taverna Fiora and just peek into the bridal suite. She’d never look wistfully at that room again. It was hers now. She owned it, and no bride would ever adore it as much as she did.
    She had coffee brewing and toast toasting by the time Grant came downstairs. He’d left the top button of his shirt open and had the collar standing up around his throat. His hair was mussed as though he’d tried to comb it with his fingers. She whimpered and clutched the counter. Who needed food? She could eat him alive.
    “Your tie…”
    “I lost it.” He grinned knowingly. “We were very careless with our clothes last night.”
    “Hmm. I recall things being tossed all over the place.”
    “Yeah. That’s why I need to get to work early.” He kissed her nose, her chin, her lips. She sighed.
    “Okay. You sure you don’t want something to eat?”
    He nibbled her ear lobe. “This is fine.” He kissed her lips. “And this.”
    “Okay.”
    He let her go, and she followed him to the front door. “I will call