His Pregnant Princess Bride. Catherine Mann
God, she was crazy sexy.
“Whose jersey is this?” She traced the number with one finger, tempting him to do the same. “Whose number?”
He swallowed hard, a lump in his throat. “It’s a retired number, one that had been reserved for me if I joined the team. I didn’t.” He shook off past regrets abruptly. He’d never played for the team, so he’d bought it, instead. “So shall I escort you back to you room?”
He couldn’t keep the suggestive tone from his voice. Didn’t want to.
She tipped her haughty-princess chin. “I think not. I can find my own way back.”
That might be true enough. But they weren’t done by a long shot. He wouldn’t rest until the day came when he peeled that jersey from her beautiful body.
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