Free The Nanny (The Fabulous Dalton Boys Book 1) by Kirsten Osbourne Page B

she could smooth lotion all over and put on the nightgown Brooklyn had sent.  She wouldn't take more than a minute or two.
    He nodded, walking to look out the window.  He could wait.  A few more minutes wouldn't kill him, even though, at that moment, he felt like it would.  He stared at the cars passing below, trying not to think.
    When he heard the bathroom door close, he pulled out his phone and quickly dialed his brother, Cage.  "How's the baby?"
    Cage laughed.  "Let's just say Brook is not a natural mother.  She's doing all right though.  Baby isn't crying.  Right now."
    "I guess that's a plus.  You sure he's okay?"
    "Yeah, we got it.  Enjoy your night away."
    The phone went dead in his hand, and Barrett looked at it for a moment, wondering if he should put Ashley on a plane and take her right back to Texas.  He shook his head.  He would have one wedding night, and he wasn't going to blow it.  Cage was a good uncle.  The baby would be fine.
    He undressed and got into the bed, listening and noting the water had stopped.  He folded his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, wishing he knew how long she took in the bath.  However long it too, he promised himself he wouldn't rush her.  What he wanted to do was go see if the door was locked and join her in the huge bathtub.  Visions of her sitting there surrounded by bubbles filled his mind, and he could think of nothing else.
    The door opened then and he looked up, his eyes widening as he saw her.  She was wearing a short white silky gown with spaghetti straps.  It barely came to her thighs and showed her sexy body to perfection.  He pulled himself into a sitting position, staring at the vision before him. 
    "Remind me to kiss Brook when we get back to Texas."
    She laughed self-consciously.  "I probably won't do that..."  She nervously approached the bed on the opposite side to where he was.  He'd pushed the covers to the foot of the bed, only covering up with the sheet.  She had a feeling he'd only bothered to cover at all for her modesty. 
    She slipped between the sheets, unsure if she was supposed to go to him, or wait for him to come to her.  Oh why did no one ever explain these things in romance novels?  She rolled to her side facing him, waiting for him to either make a move or tell her what to do.  It didn't take him long.
    Barrett turned to her, his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek.  "Are you going to stay way over there?"
    "I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.  It's not like I've ever done this before."
    He had suspected that might be the case, but having her confirm it made him nervous as well.  "Why don't we meet in the middle?"
    She slowly scooted toward him on the bed, keeping the sheet clenched tightly against her chest. 
    He could feel her tension, and decided, even though it would surely kill him, he would take things as slowly as he could.  Cupping her face in his hands, he lowered his mouth to hers, sipping softly at her lips.  He made no move to touch her anywhere else, simply kissing her, as he'd done several times before.
    Her lips parted for his, her hands going to his shoulders.  She loved the smooth skin of his back across her palms. 
    Barrett lifted his head, his eyes looking into hers.  "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.  I hope you know that."
    "You make me feel beautiful," she said, blushing slightly, but feeling more confident by the minute.  "I like touching you."
    "I'm glad, because there's nothing I like more.  Well, that's not true.  I expect to like touching you more, but I'm not sure if you'll ever let me."
    She laughed.  "I think I'm letting you now, right?"
    He studied her face.  "I don't know.  Are you?"
    She nodded, her eyes never leaving his.  As nervous as it made her, he was her husband, and he had the right to touch her anytime he wanted.  And she had the right to enjoy it, gosh darn it!
    He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue invading her mouth to