Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire: The Innocent's Dark Seduction / Count Maxime's Virgin / Untamed Billionaire, Undressed Virgin. Jennie Lucas
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touch her skin, and yet the closeness of his caress sent every nerve in her body spinning. “You spend your life taking care of other people. You are the most intriguing woman I’ve ever known. Sexy as hell. But your courageous spirit—that was what caught me. Your strength. Your goodness. Your honesty.”
Honesty? Oh, my God. The enormity of her secret was pounding in her brain, making her whole body hurt.
“You insulted me to my face so gleefully,” he continued, “I knew you’d always tell me the truth, even if it hurt me.” He rubbed his cheek wryly. “Especially if it hurt me.”
She felt her own cheeks go hot. “I was wrong to slap you that day.”
“No, I deserved it.” He looked down at her. She could feel the heat from his body, and yet still he didn’t touch her! He said softly, “If I hadn’t taken your father’s business, your life would have been so different.”
Silence fell between them. She heard the sad caw of birds high overhead, flying south so late, so late. She heard the crunch of the fresh snow beneath his shoes as he turned away.
He blamed himself. And after all this time of blaming him, somehow, knowing he blamed himself … broke her heart.
“It wasn’t your fault really,” she heard herself say in a small voice. “My father’s heart was weak. My sister’s treatment was experimental. My mother was fragile. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. Maybe … I never should have blamed you.”
Roark’s eyes closed as he took a long, deep breath. When he opened his eyes, they shone—with unshed tears?
Roark?
“Thank you.” He reached out to stroke her cheek. The sensation of his touch, after waiting so long for it, caused a deep shudder to go through Lia. Her knees went weak.
Suddenly the air between them changed. Electrified. He ran his thumb along her sensitive lower lip.
“Come to my hotel,” he whispered. “Don’t make me wait. I can’t wait anymore. I need you now.”
Yes, she thought desperately, then thought of Ruby and turned away.
“I can’t.”
“Come to my bed once of your own free will,” he asked quietly. “After that, if you decide you don’t want me, I won’t pursue you again. But give me one chance to persuade you. One chance to show you what I can offer. What our life together could be.”
She looked at him, dazed by the gentle seduction of his touch. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed. And she knew she couldn’t bear for him to leave. Not yet. She couldn’t bear the thought of him letting her go, setting her adrift again and alone in the cold winter. Not without one last chance to be warm …
“If I come to your bed, you’ll let me go?”
“Yes,” he said in a low voice. “If that is what you truly desire. But I will do everything I can to convince you to stay. To come away with me. To be my love.”
“Your … love?” she said softly.
“My mistress.” He held her in his arms, looking down at her. “I’m not offering love, Lia. I’m not offering marriage. I know this fire between us cannot last. Let’s just relish every moment that we have.”
Closing her eyes, she silently pressed her face against his coat. She could feel the cold, blustery wind against her face, but the rest of her body felt hot. And warm. His arms were wrapped around her as he held her tightly. Her breasts felt hard and aching, her body rising toward him with every quick, panting breath.
He wanted long-term pleasure. No commitment. No emotional entanglement.
That wasn’t what she wanted from a man. Not as a husband and not as her baby’s father.
And yet …
One afternoon in his bed. Then Roark would return to Asia, and Ruby would be safe forever. He need never know he had a daughter. He need never feel a burden of responsibility he didn’t want, or interfere in their lives. He could continue his endless travels and never look back.
He would never have the opportunity to fail Ruby as a father. And Lia wouldn’t be forced to watch Roark replace her in his life with an endless parade of new mistresses when he tired of her.
They were wrong for each other. She saw that clearly. She wanted a family and a home. She wanted a steady man who would love her forever and love their children.
She wanted a life like Emily had. But since she couldn’t have that …
One afternoon in Roark’s bed.
One time to try to satiate her craving for him and then she’d forget. She’d send him on his way and start a new life with her baby. She would forget him.
She would.
Her heart pounded as she turned her face upward, looking into his eyes. The sun was behind his head, giving his black hair a halo like a dark Renaissance angel. He dazzled her. His masculine power and beauty blinded her.
And she heard herself whisper, “I need to be home by two o’clock.”
He took a deep breath and held her fiercely, kissing her forehead, her hair.
“You won’t regret it,” he vowed. “I’ll make sure you never regret it.”
A few hours. Just a few hours, Lia told herself. As he lowered his head to claim her lips with a passionate kiss, she knew she’d burn each caress onto her memory. She would make these next few hours last forever.
Then … she would let him go.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS THEY went up the elevator of the Cavanaugh Hotel to the $20,000-a-night presidential suite, Roark realized he was shaking.
Oh, my God, when had he ever wanted a woman like this?
When had he ever wanted anything like this?
He stopped in front of the hotel room door, looking down at her. Her hazel eyes were clear and serene, like pools of cool water in a Canadian forest, reflecting the green and brown of the wilderness and vivid blue of the sky.
Unable to look away, he lifted her into his arms and carried her over the threshold. He closed the door behind them with a kick.
He carried her across the marble floor of the foyer, beneath the enormous crystal chandelier, and across the six-room suite into the master bedroom. He set her gently to her feet. Through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, he could see the stark beauty of Central Park. Black trees twisted patterns against the white expanse of snow.
He took off his black coat. He peeled off her white wool coat and gloves and scarf, dropping them to the floor. He started to take off his black shirt, but found himself distracted when she started to do the same right in front of him.
Her hazel eyes never left his as she slowly unbuttoned her black jacket, revealing a lacy black bra beneath. She unzipped the back of her skirt and let it fall. He saw black lace panties and black stockings held up by a garter belt.
Stockings? A garter belt …?
Who was this woman? She was modern, young, a countess. And yet she was an old-fashioned fantasy, a 1940s bombshell. The more time he spent with Lia, the more he wanted her.
It was why he’d realized he wanted her for longer than just a night. He wanted her in his life until he’d had his fill.
For the first time, ever, he wanted to keep a woman with him on his travels.
Roark swallowed, and his hands stilled on the buttons of his shirt as he watched her. Lia was truly a woman who’d be feverishly desired by every man, no matter the age or time.
Kicking off her black high heels, she put one small foot on the bed and