Page 34 of Kyle

He had no idea what woke him or that he had fallen asleep. He blinked at the blank screen, and it took him a while to realize that his wife was practically wrapped around him. Her head was snug on his shoulder, and one leg was thrown over his.

He went still, not even daring to breathe.

Tipping his head down, he studied her face. He should move or wake her. A glance at his watch showed that it was almost eleven. And this was dangerous territory.

His desire was raging out of control.

Just when he decided to move, her eyes flickered open and met his. Not daring to breathe, he stared into her eyes and saw awareness flicker in them.

"Hi." Her voice was husky with sleep.

"Hi. We fell asleep."

"Hmm." She stretched, her knee edging dangerously close to that vulnerable part of his anatomy.

"We should." He cleared his throat again.

"Uhm. It's late."

"You sound nervous. Are you?" She made no move to get off him.

"No. No."

Her fingers spread over his chest.

"Your heart is pounding."

"It's not."

She merely lifted one tapered brow.

"Your chest is quite impressive."

"Ingrid."

"McCreary."

"We never discussed this."

"No, we didn't." Her hand drifted to the edge of his sweater, her hand sliding up his taut stomach to his chest. And felt when his muscles flinched.

"We're married."

"Yes," he rasped.

"It's just that."

"It's an arrangement. It no longer is."

"It's not?" He could not find his breath.

"No. Hmm. You work out."

"Yes, there's a fully equipped gym at the manor." It occurred to him that he was babbling.

"There's one here too. We should work out together. I'm lousy at keeping to a plan. You're going to have to keep me accountable."

"Yes. I." He had to stifle a groan as she stroked his nipple. His hand clamped down on hers as his breath became strangled in his throat.