Hot and Bothered - Erika Wilde Page 0,30

to be honorable and noble when that was the last thing she wanted from him. He might have given her multiple orgasms last night, but her desire for him was far from satisfied.

With a sigh of defeat, she gave up on the frying pan and started looking in the pantry for a can of coffee, figuring that had to be fairly easy to find. Her search was fruitless, which only served to mount her growing agitation. Her chest grew tight with distress and her temples throbbed with the beginnings of a headache.

Minutes later Noah strolled into the kitchen, fresh from his shower and looking gorgeous and sexy in faded jeans and a beige T-shirt that outlined his broad shoulders. He took one look at her standing in the middle of the room with her fingers pressed against her forehead and immediately closed the distance between them.

With his thumb tucked beneath her chin, he raised her face up to his. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asked in that caring way of his.

She knew he was concerned about her, knew she ought to be grateful that he was so considerate. But at the moment his benevolence was the last thing she wanted from him and he became a perfect target for her pent-up irritation and confusion.

“No, I’m not okay,” she blurted, throwing her hands into the air in a dramatic display. “I can’t even find a frying pan or can of coffee in this stupid kitchen!”

Reaching for her, he gently pulled her into his embrace, and she automatically stiffened, not wanting to give an inch when he was the source of her cranky disposition. She’d changed into a casual, comfortable cotton dress she’d found in the closet while he’d showered, and the heat and strength of him penetrated the material, sparking a new awareness of him.

“Just relax and don’t try so hard.” He rubbed his big hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture and kissed the top of her head. His actions were warm and affectionate, but there was no denying he was much more reserved with her after their episode this morning. “It’ll come to you in time.”

“I don’t think I’m a patient woman,” she muttered, trying not to groan or give in to his persuasive tactics as he kneaded the taut muscles along her shoulders.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against her ear. “No, you’re not.”

She ought to be offended, but he was so sweet she couldn’t stay mad at him for long. He melted her irritable mood with his voice, his wonderful hands, his mere presence, and she finally let her tension unravel.

“You’re bound to be emotional and sensitive for a while.” He let her go, then guided her to the oak table in the corner of the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make you breakfast.”

Because her own little tantrum had exhausted her, she did as he asked and settled into one of the chairs. She watched him putter around, finding utensils and food items with ease and whipping up a meal for the two of them as if it were a task he did every morning of the week.

Unlike her, he was back in control, his emotions and the awareness between them seemingly compartmentalized.

Fifteen minutes later he placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, along with a plate of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon. The aroma was heavenly, and she ate with gusto.

A sudden thought entered her mind and slipped out before she could stop it. “It’s Monday, and I have a test at school today.” She was so excited to recall something so mundane yet so crucial to her day-to-day routine that she grinned at Noah, who was sitting across the table from her.

He blinked at her in surprise, a smile of his own making an appearance. “Yes, it is, and yes, you did.”

“Did?” She didn’t miss the past-tense usage of the word.

“I don’t think you should go to school today. It’s too much, too soon.” He took a bite of his eggs, then added, “In fact, you might want to consider emailing your teachers and taking the whole week off. I’m sure they’ll be able to give you your daily assignments and you’ll be able to make up today’s test next week.”

She didn’t think that would be a problem, either, but she was certain she’d go nuts without doing anything productive for a week, and she wanted, needed, some normalcy back in her life. “I’ll email my