“It’s just me,” he whispered. “You ran into me before I could let you know I was here, and I didn’t want you to scream and wake the boys.” She sagged against him, and he resisted the urge to savor the lush, slippery heat of her body pressed against his. He released her, and she stepped around him, moving out of the boys’ room and into the hall. “Oh,” she gasped, reaching for the tie on her robe. Somehow it had come undone in the collision, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to steal a glimpse at what was underneath. Fuck it. He wasn’t that strong. He looked down and saw an endless expanse of creamy skin. No nightie. No T-shirt. No sleep shorts. Just Sheri. His heart throbbed hard. Among other things. “Now I know,” he murmured. “Know what?” she asked, cinching the waist belt on the robe and peering up at him in the darkness.
