Page 94 of His Surrender

“You’ve already decided.”

She bites her lip, trying to hide another smile. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“I’m hoping I’m right.”

Before either of us can say another word, the bottle warmer lets out a cheerful beep.

We both laugh.

“Looks like someone else has better timing than we do,” she says, reaching for the bottle.

I step aside, finally giving her room to move. “I’ll see you later, Miss Cooper.”

As she walks past me, she glances up through her lashes, her smile turning almost impossibly mischievous. “You just might, Mr. Ledger.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting up in my bed, leaning against the headboard, freshly showered, as I wait in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.

The bedroom is quiet, except for the low hum of the city beyond the windows.

Every few seconds, I find myself glancing toward the closed door.

I check the clock on my phone for what has to be the tenth time. She’s probably still rocking Liana to sleep.

I toss my phone onto the nightstand and scrub a hand over my face.

This is ridiculous.

I’m a thirty-four-year-old man who’s negotiated billion-dollar contracts without my pulse changing.

Tonight, listening for the sound of footsteps in the hallway has me more anxious than any boardroom ever has.

I’m beginning to wonder if she is going to come find me. Maybe she’s not just nervous but second-guessing if she wants this.

The thought has my body tensing at the idea.

I close my eyes, trying to convince myself to stop listening for the slightest sound outside my door.

Then she appears at my door in her too-short pink shorts and white tank top. Her hair is down in loose waves, and her makeup is gone.

I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.

Her hands once again seem to hint to her nerves as they fidget in front of her legs.

I throw my legs over the side of my bed to stand, then take a couple of large strides until I’m standing in front of her.

I reach for her hands, threading my fingers through hers before gently drawing her the rest of the way into my room. Once she’s inside, I ease the door shut behind her.

The quiet that settles over the room is almost deafening.

She’s close enough now that I can hear the slight hitch in her breathing. My pulse is pounding just as hard.

Neither of us says anything. We don’t have to.

Her eyes drift around the room for the briefest second before finding mine again.

“You look nervous,” I say with a small smile.

“I am,” she whispers.