stared at the trio laughing and gesturing in between puffing cigars. She was opposed to smoking, whether it was a pipe, cigar or cigarettes, but Brandt, Alexander and Jordan were adults. They had to be aware of the risks associated with smoking.
“I’m not quite ready to sleep under the stars,” she told Aziza. “I can give you a nightgown and grooming supplies in case you have to sleep over.”
Aziza checked her watch. It was minutes before eleven. “If Jordan’s not ready to leave by midnight, then I’m going to take you up on your offer.”
The hospital bed had been removed, freeing up the guest bedroom, and Ciara had moved her things into Brandt’s bedroom, freeing up another.
If Alex, Jordan and Aziza decided to stay, there was certainly enough room.
Chapter 15
Sitting on the ledge of the soaking tub, Ciara shook the canister of shaving gel, then squeezed a small amount into her hand. When she rubbed them together the green gel turned into white foam that she then lathered over her legs from knee to ankle. She was fortunate she didn’t have to shave her legs that often, but tonight she wanted them silky smooth, because the dress she’d decided to wear to Esteban’s birthday displayed more flesh than usual.
She would shower and dress at the penthouse, then do her hair and makeup at the suite in a hotel near LaGuardia Airport. Sofia had decided to have her brother’s birthday party at a ballroom in the hotel to accommodate out-of-town guests who were flying in for the occasion. Ciara had called Sofia twice to remind her to bring her dress and shoes before she left home.
“Why don’t you let me do that?”
Her hand halted before she could pick up the razor. She hadn’t heard Brandt when he’d come into the bathroom, because of the music.
“What are you talking about?”
Brandt maneuvered closer, his hungry eyes lingering over the lithe, naked woman perched on the side of the tub. Her hair was done up in countless rollers that looked like soft rods twisted into open figure-eights.
Four weeks. He couldn’t believe it had only been four weeks since Ciara Dennison had become an integral part of his day-to-day life. They went to bed together, woke up together, shared meals and, in spite of his physical limitations, made love. He couldn’t, and didn’t want to, remember when she hadn’t been there. He’d stopped trying to analyze what it was about Ciara that made her so different from the other women he’d known.
“I’ll shave your legs.”
With wide eyes, Ciara watched him come closer and closer until she felt his warm breath on her bare breast. Even though he’d seen her naked before, she still felt exposed. He’d caught her perched on the side of the bathtub with her legs in such a position that he had a bird’s-eye view of her private parts.
“That’s okay,” she said much too quickly. “I can do it.”
“What if you nick yourself? Now how would it look if you went out with those little pieces of tissue stuck to those long, gorgeous legs?”
Ciara picked up the razor, surreptitiously placing her free hand between her thighs. “I’m not going to cut myself.”
“Weren’t you the one who said you have a problem navigating around one’s jugular?”
Their eyes met, her gaze tracing his masculine features and the attractive cleft in his chin. Stubble dotted his lean cheeks. She didn’t know whether he’d decided to grow a beard, but he hadn’t shaved in three days.
“My legs don’t have a jugular, Brandt Wainwright.”
The corners of Brandt’s mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. “What do they have, Ciara Dennison?”
“Nerves and bones.”
“What types of nerves?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “What is this? An anatomy test?”
Brandt covered her breast with one hand, ignoring her exhalation of breath. The nipple hardened against his palm. “Just answer the question, babe.”
Ciara closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at Brandt—not when he was feeling her up. “Tibial and sural nerves.”
His fingers tightened, thumb sweeping back and forth over the distended nipple. “What are the differences?”
“The tibial is the branch of the…the sciatic nerve extending through the posterior tibial nerve that provides sensations to…to certain muscles of the leg and the sole of the foot.”
Brandt pressed his mouth to the side of her neck. “Why were you stuttering?”
“You’d stutter too if I were feeling you up.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” His statement echoed confidence and arrogance.
Ciara opened her eyes, forcibly pushing his hand off her breast. “Let’s find out,” she said in a