Desiring the Reilly Brothers: The Tempting Mrs Reilly / Whatever Reilly Wants... / The Last Reilly Standing

Brian asked.

“No,” she said, “just a little tired.”

“Not surprising,” he admitted. “Even I usually require more than an hour’s sleep at night.”

But that’s all they’d had, she realized. Because neither of them had wanted to stop touching the other long enough to snooze, however briefly. Finally, exhaustion had slapped them both into sleep just before dawn.

When she didn’t answer, his hand on her breast stilled and his gaze narrowed on her. “Are you all right?”

“Sure,” she said, biting back her second thoughts, tamping down on the first stirring of guilt that was already beginning to nibble at the edges of her conscience.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up to look down at her. “I’m convinced.”

The back of his neck itched.

Just like it did whenever he was in the field. Even at thirty thousand feet above the earth, a pilot could sense when there were missiles targeting his ship. And it was that very sixth sense that was jangling inside him now like a mission bell blowing in a hurricane wind.

“It’s nothing, Brian. Really.”

“It’s something,” he countered and told himself that he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. All night, he and Tina had connected just like the old days. Despite the lack of sleep tugging at him, he’d never felt more alive than he had at this moment. And he knew without a doubt that once Tina started talking, that well-being was going to fly out a window. And still, he had to know. “Why don’t you just spill it?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

“Now I know we’ve gotta talk,” Brian told her and felt his stomach clench into fists of anxiety. Something was definitely up.

“Let’s not do this, okay?” she said and abruptly scooted to the edge of his bed and scrambled around on the floor, looking for the towel she’d discarded the night before.

“Okay, when Tina Coretti doesn’t want to talk,” Brian muttered darkly, “there’s trouble. And I want to know what it is.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder, blew her hair out of her eyes and gave him what she no doubt hoped would look like an innocent shrug.

“No trouble. Really. Just looking for a shower and some clothes now.” She didn’t want to have this talk now. Not when she knew it would lead to an argument of apocalyptic proportions. And Tina wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Not when her body was still humming from his touch and her heart was still aching with the knowledge that she loved a man who didn’t want her.

Where did the stupid towel go? she wondered. Not like it could walk off on its own.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

She glanced at him again, tugged the sheet with her, draping it around her body before dropping to the floor. “Beats me,” she said. “Maybe you have a suspicious nature?”

“Talk to me, Tina,” he complained and she heard the impatience in his voice and winced at it.

So much for the happy afterglow thing, she thought as she continued to grope her way across the floor, looking under tables and the edge of the bed for her wayward towel. “You know what?” She staggered to her feet, caught her toe on the hem of the sheet and stumbled forward a step or two. “Screw the towel. I’ll just borrow this sheet to go back to Nana’s house in. I’ll bring it back to you tonight.”

Then she made the mistake of turning around to look at him. Naked and comfortable with it, he was sprawled across the rumpled sheets, braced on his elbows as he watched her. Every square inch of him was gorgeous. He looked like a statue carved by a master craftsman. Well, except for the suspicion gleaming in his eyes.

“Not a chance,” he muttered.

“You don’t trust me with your sheet?”

“I don’t give a good damn about the stupid sheet, Tina,” he said, sliding off the bed and stalking toward her. “I want to know what’s going on inside that head of yours and you’re not leaving until you tell me.”

Tina took an instinctive step backward, then stiffened her spine and stood her ground. After all, she wasn’t ashamed of what she’d done. Well, not totally, anyway. It wasn’t as if she’d had to hold a gun to his head to get him to have sex with her, right? He’d enjoyed himself. Many times.

Although, said a little voice in the back of her mind, if he’d known what you were doing, he never would have slept with you.

But then, she reasoned, however faulty, that’s precisely why she hadn’t told him.

Until now.

She forced herself to look into his eyes, because looking anywhere else would only send her blood into a frothing rush—and she knew darn well that once he knew what was going on…there wouldn’t be any more rolling around on those rumpled sheets.

Their gazes locked and Brian studied her features for what felt like forever. Then slowly, her gaze shifted to one side as if she couldn’t quite look him in the eyes. Not a good sign.

“Last night,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “when you said I didn’t have to worry about not having condoms…”

Tina reached up and pushed her hair back from her face. With her free hand, she clutched the sheet to her chest like some ancient battle shield. “Yes?”

“You did mean that you were on the pill, right?”

“Not exactly.”

His features froze over. Some unidentifiable emotion—panic maybe, or fear—clawed at his chest. She still wouldn’t look directly at him. Oh yeah, his sixth sense was never wrong.

“Not exactly?” he repeated, remembering just how many times he’d made love to Tina during the night. How many times his little warriors had stormed her undefended beaches. The air in the room got a little thin and he had to gulp in oxygen like a drowning man. “Just what the hell does ‘not exactly’ mean?”

“It means that I’m not on the pill, but you don’t have to worry.”

Not on the pill.

Four words guaranteed to strike fear into the hearts of men everywhere. The world shifted just a bit and he felt as though he were perched on the edge of a cliff and already sliding swiftly toward a crevasse that was going to swallow him whole. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Don’t have to worry? he thought. What the hell kind of man did she think he was? Did she really believe he could make a child and walk away? Didn’t she know him at all?

Oh, God.

A baby?

His blood pumped and the furious roaring in his ears sounded a backdrop for the bass drum beating of his heart.

“And I shouldn’t worry because…”

Here it comes. Tina had known all along that she’d have to tell him. That she wouldn’t be able to not tell him. But it was different, now.

Back home in California, when she was talking to Janet, planning all of this, thinking it through, she’d done it objectively. She’d reasoned it all out and the plan had seemed fair to her. She would have the child she’d always wanted and Brian would have the opportunity to either be a part of the child’s life or not, as he chose.

Now though, guilt was a living thing inside her.

Now, she regretted the lie to him—though she didn’t regret her actions, not one bit. She wouldn’t trade the past several hours with Brian for anything. And hopefully, they’d created a child—and she would love it with all her heart.