Designing Berlin Read Online Free PDF Page B

Not very fancy, but it will fill ya up.”
    “You can cook?” She didn’t know why it surprised her. He apparently lived on his own; of course he would have to cook or starve.
    “I promise I can keep you fed,” he replied blithely.
    Berlin ignored the implications of what he had said. He meant while she was here. That was all she would allow herself to think.
    “Thank you,” she told him simply, trying not to think about the way he pushed her hair out of her face for her after setting the tray carefully on her lap. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
    She almost choked as his casual shrug made the taunt muscles ripple. Because he was shirtless, she could clearly see every inch of his lightly tanned torso. Talk about washboard abs! While he wasn’t thick or heavily muscled, his lean frame was finely developed, reminding her one of those Greek sculptures in a museum but with a considerably larger “package.”
    “I already ate,” he told her, briefly taking the tray back and setting it on the nightstand, then physically propping her up with the multitude of pillows on his bed. Once she was properly settled, he replaced the tray on her lap and picked up the spoon. Berlin watched in avid fascination as he filled the spoon and brought it slowly to her mouth. “Open wide.”
    She let him feed her. It was so outside her sphere of experience; the men she usually dated were suave and smooth, but not tender. There was something peculiarly erotic about it. Those eyes of his held her captive as he made sure she ate every drop. And it was delicious, but she would be hard-pressed to describe a thing she had just eaten. All her senses were tuned specifically on him. She was getting in a little too deep. With a slight shake of her head, she tried to pull herself back together. She would not fall for a man she barely knew and had no intention of seeing again.
    “Look, I don’t usually do things like this…” How lame was that? It sounded like something a woman would say if she did sleep around but was too embarrassed to admit it.
    “I know you don’t,” Matty said, surprising her. “I never suspected otherwise.”
    Berlin frowned at the tingle his comment sent down her spine. She was no teenage girl to be won over with words. She tried again, putting steel in her voice to make her intentions clear.
    “Yeah, well, I uh, appreciate the rescue and the hospitality and all. But I came out here to try to convince you to design for Femme , and seeing as you are against that, as soon as the road is clear, I am going back to Atlanta.”
    He regarded her quietly for a full minute, then got up and went over to a chest of drawers. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but didn’t know how to ask. She hadn’t been confrontational about it. She hadn’t accused him of anything. Still, she felt like she were letting him down somehow, like she were hurting him personally in some way. That didn’t make any sense, but she couldn’t shake the suspicion.
    He was silent when he returned to the bed with a rather large plaid shirt and thick socks. He didn’t say anything as he moved the warm covers off of her and proceeded to dress her as if she were a child. Or someone precious to him , her mind insisted on adding. She could have swatted his hands away, but the truth was she liked it. She liked all of it. She loved the attention, loved the way he had bathed her, seduced her, made love to her, held her as they slept, then woken up and fed and dressed her. No one besides her mother had ever treated her like this. It was especially strange because she had always considered sensitive men like him wimps. There was nothing wimpy about Matthew. He was all man while pampering her. He seemed more manly than any other male she had ever dated.
    “Come on; I want to show you something,” Matty said, holding out his hand to her.
    Berlin took his hand, following him out of the spacious bedroom and up the stairs with more than just a little