Damien reread it twice to make sure he’d gotten it straight. He bit his fingernail and tried to remember if he’d blown into her vagina. What constituted blowing? His tongue had been in her, plunging, licking. And maybe air would go along with his tongue on the way in, but it wasn’t like he’d pursed his lips and whistled “Yankee Doodle” into her crotch. What the hell did they mean? Fucking A.

“I could have killed her!”

Rubbing his forehead, he closed the book, flipped it to the front, and opened it at page one. He’d be better off just reading the whole damn thing.

Mandy woke up naked with Damien’s hand resting on her bum. It was just about a perfect way to start the day.

Except she had to use the loo.

Rolling onto her back with a sigh, she was planning on easing herself away from Damien’s sleeping form and taking care of business. She jumped a little when she saw he was wide awake. Staring at her.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile, brushing her fingers over his chest.

“Hi.” Damien gave her a warm kiss. On the forehead.

Mandy wet her lips, leaning toward him, but he made no move to touch her. She decided she’d have to initiate a proper good morning. She didn’t want him to feel awkward about the night before, and she didn’t want things to end so quickly. They had a whole day and a half left before they had to go back to New York and she wanted to make good use of them.

Damien stiffened as she started wandering lower, fingers fanning out in feathery touches. Stiff was good. She was disappointed to find he was wearing briefs, but wasn’t about to let that deter her. Only she looked up again and found he was still wearing that same odd stare, a sort of reverent gaze of awe that was damned unnerving and not in the least bit sexual.

“What?” she asked, shifting a little under his scrutiny.

“Hmmm?” His hand touched her hip, but lightly, as though he was afraid she might deflate like a souffle.

“Why are you looking at me like I’m the Madonna? And I don’t mean the one who kissed Britney Spears with tongue.” He was scaring her, the intensity in his blue eyes searching and expectant.

“I just think you look beautiful.” His hand slid over onto her stomach, and he stroked softly. “I can’t believe the baby is five inches big. That seems so little, yet at the same time so huge, considering it’s growing inside you.”

Mandy dropped her hand from the front of his briefs. He wasn’t thinking about sex. He was thinking about her baby. Good God.

“Five inches?” she said, not sure what to say. This wasn’t a conversation she’d pictured having with Damien.