As he stood watching Elle grace his entrance, preparing to leave, the warm brightness of her eyes suggested she really didn’t want to. And there was only one way to find out.
“Stay with me?”
He made it a question. It was enough that it was totally spontaneous. Miles didn’t think he needed to be forceful or demanding with Elle. He already knew enough about her, about them together, to know this was an easy victory. They already knew enough about one another...at least, some of the important stuff...to want this to happen for different reasons than years ago.
But she stood there so long Miles wondered if maybe he’d miscalculated. What if she shut him down?
And then, slowly Elle’s shoulder bag strap fell down her arm and the bag landed quietly on the foyer carpet. She kept her gaze on him probably, like him, wanting to be sure she wasn’t misreading the situation. She carelessly pulled off her hat, sending her hair into a spikey riot. He found it wild and sexy.
Elle began walking toward him, unbuttoning her coat. When she stopped right in front of him, Miles finished the job and pushed the coat from her shoulders. It, too, dropped to the floor in a heap of navy blue wool. He began to gently draw Elle to him, hearing the soft exhalation of her breath, the wide inquisitiveness of her gaze, the parting of her lips.
“Miles...maybe we should...”
“Yes...” he affirmed before he took control and ended the half-formed question, and both their doubt.