For the Babies' Sakes (Expecting) (Harlequin Presents, No. 2280) by Sara Wood

muttered.
    Loose-limbed and worryingly woozy, she lurched over to reach up for a glass, pushing it and the bottle along the counter top. Dan was far too close, giving off an enticing scent of maleness that made her sway nearer in an attempt to mark that scent in her memory for ever.
    â€˜You’re back from work early,’ she observed, trying not to sound slurred.
    Dan nodded curtly. He had no intention of telling her that he hadn’t been to work at all, that his entire day had been spent coming to terms with the fact that Helen was like all the others. Not to be entrusted with his feelings.
    â€˜Came back to pack some of my stuff,’ he replied.
    Good. That was virtually emotionless.
    His eyes hungered for her, though. She was rosy-cheeked, her gaze languid from the wine. He wondered how much she’d drunk. Her hair had been screwed back in a pony-tail. It looked cute. He liked seeing her face without make-up. Her mouth was naturally red, the upper lip so arched that it made him ache to kiss it.
    The T-shirt showed too much of her incomparably long and slender legs. And when she had turned her back to reach for the glass, he’d had an eyeful of the tantalising first curves of two rounded buttocks.
    â€˜You’re off, then,’ she commented with slow care.
    â€˜Uh-huh.’ He sipped thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed.
    It gave him a sexual kick to see her wearing his top. It hung loosely, moulding to her beautiful breasts. Hazarding a guess, he’d say that she wore nothing underneath at all.But she was taboo now. Still his wife, but only because a piece of paper said so.
    A sourness filled his mouth and he drained his glass to mask the taste.
    â€˜You look a bit better,’ he said, baffled as to why he was indulging in this ludicrous conversation instead of escaping unharmed.
    She gave a short ‘Huh!’ and squinted ruefully down at herself. Her arm described a rather uncontrolled arc in the air before falling to her side. ‘Let’s be honest. I look a mess.’
    There was an awkward pause. Unable to think of anything original to say—or even anything banal—he reached for the bottle just as she did, their hands meeting…and lingering for an electrifying moment.
    Oh, hell, he thought, his guts melting. He wanted her.
    â€˜After you,’ he said, dredging up a grunt.
    Her hand was shaking. She slopped wine all over the counter. Blushing beautifully, she reached across to grab a cloth, her mouth so sweetly parted over her even white teeth that he couldn’t bear it any longer.
    His hand descended on her bare arm. Warm flesh seemed to fuse with his.
    â€˜Let me,’ he said in a ridiculous husk.
    He cleared his throat, hoping she’d imagine he had a cold. Presumably he ought to let go of her. Reluctantly he did so. When he mopped up the wine with an air of concentration, she didn’t move back but stayed to tantalise him with enticing drifts of warm woman, polish and soap.
    â€˜So,’ he said stupidly, bemused by the electrification of his entire nervous system.
    This hadn’t happened for weeks. Bit late now. He filled her glass and then his for want of something better to do.
    â€˜Yes?’
    Her voice had quavered. Her lower lip was tremblingand all he could think of was the way it would feel when he took it in his mouth. Fleshy. Yielding. With an inner groan, he took a swig of wine and struggled to add something to the ‘so’.
    â€˜Uh…I’ll go and pack.’
    He’d had to drag the words out. What he wanted was to stay here and gaze at her. No. To hold her. Slide his hands beneath the cotton fabric and feel the yielding of her fabulous body. Slowly, thoroughly, make mad, passionate love to her…
    â€˜Right.’
    Her lashes lay darkly on her cheeks as she took small sips from the glass. There was a softness to her face that he hadn’t noticed before—she’d always been thin, with fantastic