Дженни Лукас – Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire: The Innocent's Dark Seduction / Count Maxime's Virgin / Untamed Billionaire, Undressed Virgin (страница 13)

A bit of fun? Lia thought of Roark pressing her legs apart, his hot breath on her thighs. The feel of his tongue as he tasted her.

Her whole body trembled as she tried to push the memory away. It’s over, she told herself desperately. He’s gone. I’ll never see him again.

But she couldn’t stop trembling.

She’d spent ten years being faithful to Giovanni in a marriage of companionship. After his death, she’d found out she was pregnant with Roark’s child and she’d never had the chance—or the inclination—to sow any more wild oats. She was twenty-nine years old and she’d had only one sexual experience in her whole life. Only one lover.

Roark.

No wonder he held such power over her.

Lia’s hands shook as she put on her white wool overcoat with the princess-style collar. Even hating him, she couldn’t resist. This fire for Roark had burned inside her for far too long, unstoked but hot beneath the ash.

Her only hope was to never see him again.

Lia put on her white gloves and scarf, then hugged her peaches-happy baby. “I’ll be back before noon.”

“No hurry, love,” Mrs. O’Keefe said placidly. “She’ll likely sleep till two.”

Picking up her Chanel handbag in her gloved hands, Lia gave her daughter one last kiss, then took a deep breath and left. As she came out of her town house she looked up at the acres of empty space on the other side of the street.

She’d bought this new town house last year because of the location. No one had understood why she would want to live in the Far West Side of Manhattan, away from the more exclusive Upper East Side where most of her friends lived; but this was the only place in the city that made her feel a sense of home.

Her sister’s unfinished park was across the street, holding the silence of winter in the snowy, sparkling morning. The railyards and broken-down warehouses had been cleared. The park waited breathlessly for spring, when the frozen earth beneath the snow would soften and warm, and grass, flowers and trees could be planted. The Valentine’s Day fund-raiser would pay for much of that.

“Good morning.”

She nearly jumped when she saw Roark standing at the bottom of her town house steps. Seeing him was like seeing a ghost. She’d already decided he was long gone, on his private plane flying across the Pacific.

She swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

His dark eyes gleamed as he looked at her, and she felt her heart quicken and pound, making her cheeks hot. Making her hot all over. “Waiting for you.”

He came up the steps and took her hand. Even through her gloves she felt his touch sear her skin, his heat causing sparks all over her body.

“I thought you were going back to Asia,” she whispered.

His gaze traced her hungrily. “Not till this afternoon.”

She’d been so sure he was gone. But now, with his hand holding hers, all she could think about was how glad she was to see him, how intoxicating it was to be near him again.

Then she remembered Ruby.

Her sweet laughing baby, eating peaches and rice cereal in her town house. Lia glanced behind her, then clenched her hands.

She had to get Roark out of here.

“I’m on my way to work.” Ripping her hand from his grasp, she started walking quickly down the steps.

“I didn’t know you had a job.”

“I’m still doing fund-raising for the park.” Stopping on the sidewalk, she looked each way down the quiet street. “It’s not as easy as you might think.”

“I’m sure,” Roark said, sounding amused. “What are you doing? Looking both ways before you cross the street?”

“Hailing a cab,” she said, annoyed.

“You’ll never get a cab this time of the morning. Where’s your driver?”

“It was an unnecessary expense. I let him go when I had …” When I had a baby. She coughed, coloring. “Lately, I’ve been working more from home.”

“I can help.” Roark indicated the black Rolls-Royce that was waiting discreetly at a distance. “My driver can take you wherever you need to go.”

She ground her teeth. “I am not one of your floozies, Roark, waiting breathlessly for your assistance. I can get my own cab.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Go ahead.”

She looked first one way, then the other down the quiet street. A few cars went by. She lifted her arm as several taxis passed—all of them already filled with passengers. And she felt Roark’s amusement.

She glowered at him, reaching into her handbag. “I’ll call a car service.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Just let me take you.”

She swallowed as she felt his heat through her white gloves. Why did his slightest touch always have such an effect on her? “You’ll take me straight to work?”

“Yes. I promise.” He stroked back a tendril of hair that had escaped her chignon. “Right after breakfast.”

Breakfast? Was that a metaphor for a morning of hot, fiery sex? She licked her lips. “I’m not hungry.”

He gave her a slow-rising grin that she felt to her toes. “I think you’re lying.”

She sucked in her breath, tried to regain control. “I told you, I need to go to work.”

“And I’ll take you there. After breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” she whispered. “You mean breakfast at … at a restaurant? With food?”

“That is how breakfast is usually done.” His eyes gleamed wickedly, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He glanced up at her town house. “Unless you want to invite me inside.” He stroked her inner wrist beneath her glove, making her tremble all over in a flash of heat. “I rather like the idea of you cooking for me.”

Swallowing, she glanced back at the town house, where her baby was playing with Mrs. O’Keefe. Oh, my God. At any moment, the widow could come out with Ruby for their morning walk.

She had to get Roark out of here!

She whirled to face him, ripping her hand away from his touch. Her eyes glittered. “If I made you breakfast, I’d dump salt in it, boxes and boxes.”

He gently stroked her chin. “You don’t mean that.”

“Count yourself lucky it wasn’t rat poison!”

His smile broadened. “You’re quite a woman, Lia.”

“And you’re quite a rat. Don’t ever try and push me into another broom closet. If you even think of—”

“No more closets, I swear.” But even as she exhaled in relief, he finished in a low, dark voice, “The next time I take you, Lia, you’ll be in my bed.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LIA took another sip of the fragrant strong coffee, rich with cream and sugar, from a tiny cup painted with pale-blue flowers and traced in twenty-four-karat gold.

The owner of the expensive French café sprang forward to refill her cup as she set it down, but she covered it with her hand. “No more for me, thank you, Pierre. I’ll just finish this, then go.”

The manager nodded sagely. “Oui, madame. Of course. But,” he said with a tsk, “we’ve missed Mademoiselle Ruby today. I hope she is well?”

Lia nearly choked on her coffee. She felt Roark watching her.

“She’s very well,” she managed. “She just … couldn’t make it today.”

“I’m glad to hear that, madame.” Bowing, he backed away respectfully.

“Who’s Ruby?” Roark inquired.

Lia’s teeth chattered. When Roark had allowed her to choose the restaurant, she’d picked her favorite place. She’d thought it would make her feel comfortable, that it would make her feel calm and strong enough to face Roark.

How could she have failed to consider the fact that Pierre served her and Ruby brunch every Sunday? He adored the baby. He always brought her little origami cranes which he made for her out of the linen napkins.

Rattled, Lia scraped the last of her syrup on the very last bit of waffle and stuffed it all in her mouth.

“Ruby’s a friend,” she mumbled. “Just a good friend.”