I let the water flow over me, praying it could wash away all the emotions warring inside me. The water was hot and it felt good. Too good. And the feeling of Jack's hands on my body had been wreaking havoc with me all evening. He was so close, even now. Just in the other room… his bedroom, that we were going to be sharing tonight…

There was no way in hell I could give myself another damned climax, I thought irritably. Not when I had to go out there and climb into bed next to him. He would fucking sense it.

So I lathered and rinsed quickly, drying off briskly with a luxuriously thick towel. Everything around me was lovely. Homey, yet elegant. The fixtures were gold, the marble polished, the ceilings in the grand old house tall and ornately carved. Every inch of it was like a dream come true. And at any other time, I'd have been soaking in every amazing detail. But as the Turkish towel rubbed my sensitive nipples hard, I'd have given damn near anything to be back in my old apartment with its dripping faucets and leaking ceiling. How the fuck was I going to get through the night, half naked with Jack, in a bed only large enough for one?

I dried my hair, scrubbing at it hard with the towel. I caught a glance of my reflection in the cloudy mirror. My hair was a riot of curls around my face and both my cheeks and lips were flushed. I was, well, let's be nice and say Rubenesque. Other than the color of my eyes, I'd always considered myself pretty nondescript. But tonight… of all freaking nights why tonight?... the girl looking back at me looked downright hot. She looked exactly the way I felt. Like a girl who wanted it. Bad.

I splashed cold water on my face and took a few deep breaths. I was here to do a job, and that was all. The family dinner, Jack's affection toward me… all of it had just been part of the job. One I was being very well paid to do.

I opened the door and swept a hand toward the bathroom. "All yours," I said.

It wasn't until I noticed the glint in Jack's eyes, that I regretted the words.

The water ran steadily as I climbed into bed and waited. So there wasn't enough room. I'd had to share beds with my foster siblings when I'd been little. You just turned your backs on each other went to sleep. Quick. Simple. Easy.

The door opened and Jack appeared, towel over his head, pajama bottoms hanging like a tease from his hips. He peaked at me from under the towel and smiled evenly. "Decent?" he asked.

I pulled the covers up a little higher. "Perfectly," I answered. He tossed the towel on the floor and sat down next to me, on the edge of the bed.

"I know it's awkward, Libby, and I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his wet hair, leaving lines behind. "But I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for me tonight… for my whole family, really."

"For your family?"

"To let them see what a lovely person you are. So they'll always remember that the mother of the first official Mason grandchild was kind and warm and loving…"

"Only after the baby's born, you tell them the relationship between you and me just didn't work out…?"

He smiled. "May I?" he asked, lifting the edge of the covers. "It's getting cold out here."

"I'm sorry… I wasn't thinking…," I stumbled, holding back the covers and holding my breath as he climbed in beside me. He stretched out on his side, facing me, propping his head up with his hand. My flannel top kept sliding up, and I kept pulling it down. My eyes were level with the sprinkling of dark hairs across his expanse of muscled chest. I knew nothing was going to happen between us, no matter how wet my pussy was getting. He smelled like soap and man. Christ, this was going to be a long night.

"Tomorrow, you're going to give me the greatest gift a woman can give a man," he said softly and my toes curled in response. He shifted his legs and his knees bumped mine. I flashed to a picture of us throwing tomorrow's procedure out the window, and giving in to the very natural needs of a man and a woman finding themselves in the sack…

"I want you to feel safe with me, Libby," he went on. "We can both feel there's a mutual attraction between us… It's natural after all, what with the circumstances. But I want you to know I'd never take advantage. I respect you and I'm grateful to you. I'd never do anything to ruin the trust between us."

All the moisture in my mouth seemed to have pooled between my legs. Cotton-mouthed, I worked to swallow while my hormone-soaked brain worked to come up with a reply. Fuck respecting me, damn you, and just give it to me hard. Do something, say something to let me know it's what you want…

"I respect you too," I muttered, feeling ridiculous. "Our contract clearly defines the boundaries of your expectations… and mine," I added. "We should get some sleep, shouldn't we? Tomorrow's a pretty big day for both of us."

"I'm becoming a dad," he said, his eyes shining in the darkness.

"I'm becoming a... ," I broke off.

"Pregnant," I finished, the word sounding oddly flat. "With any luck, I'll become pregnant on the first try."

"I'm counting on it, and that's why I want to make a change to our original agreement," he said. He leaned back, working to see my face in the darkness. The moon was shining through the window on his, and his look was intense, determined.

"I was going to wait until we were sure that the insemination had been successful and we were starting into the second trimester." He looked serious, his voice had an edge. "But seeing you with my family tonight… the way they responded, thinking you and I were…"

"Real," I supplied.

"A couple," he said gently. "They're accepting that we're living together because they believe that we love each other," he continued. "But they're old fashioned at heart. So are most of the stuffy old businessmen who help keep our company afloat." He reached out and touched my cheek. "I'd been planning to wait, but I know how much it would mean to Mom and Dad. Plus, there are appearances to maintain in their social circles.

The ceremony can be here at the house," he went, on as my heartbeat began to race. "We can even spend most of your first trimester on our honeymoon, if you'd like. As long as it's technically legal and everyone believes the marriage is the real thing…," he searched my face in the dark, putting his hand on my hair. "The baby will have been born properly. And later, the marriage can end quietly. Even a second divorce in the family would be less of a shock than an illegitimate grandchild…"

The only sound was my own blood racing in my ears. He took my hands in his and I felt that familiar electric current pass between us.

"I would never expect more between us than the contract outlines," he went on. "I'd never try to take advantage, when you're already offering me more than I ever hoped for. A family of my own…

I'm willing to double the fee, Libby. You'll be free to make every dream of your own come true. To never worry again about having a place to live and to sculpt. Please, Libby?" he asked, and it struck me that I'd never heard him use that word…

"Will you marry me?"