Modern Romance August 2019 Books 1-4. Heidi Rice
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‘Just what, Tara?’ he prompted silkily.
She stared down at her bare feet for a moment before lifting her heavy-lidded gaze to his. ‘We were just a man and woman who wanted each other and status didn’t come into it—not yours, nor mine,’ she whispered. ‘Surely you’re not going to deny that, Lucas?’
Lucas was taken aback by her candour and surprised by his response to it, because an emotional statement like that would usually have made him run for the hills. Maybe it was the naïve way she expressed herself which touched something deep inside him—something which unfurled the edges of the cold emptiness which had always seemed such an integral part of him. For a moment he felt almost...exposed—as if she were threatening to peel back a layer of his skin to see what lay beneath. And no way did he wish her to see the blackness of his soul.
So that when his groin grew rocky it felt almost like a reprieve, because wasn’t it simpler to allow desire to flood him? To let lust quieten all those nebulous feelings he hadn’t addressed since leaving the lawyer’s office and which had been compounded by the bombshell Tara had dropped in his lap soon afterwards? He looked at the wild spill of her hair and her sleepy amber eyes. The towelling bathrobe she had pulled on was swamping her slender body in a way which should have been unflattering, but it only seemed to emphasise her fragility and suddenly he knew he wanted her again and he didn’t care if it was wrong. Because the worst had already happened, hadn’t it—what else could possibly eclipse the prospect of unwanted fatherhood?
Slowly yet purposefully, he walked across the dining room towards her and now her cat-like eyes weren’t quite so sleepy. Their pupils had dilated so they looked night-dark against her pale skin.
‘Lucas?’ she questioned faintly. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Oh, come on, Tara.’ His voice dipped. ‘You’re a clever woman. Surely you’ve got some idea.’
He saw her touch her tongue to her mouth. Heard the sigh which escaped from her lips and a heavy beat of satisfaction squeezed his heart as he met her hungry gaze. He reached out and pulled her into his arms and instantly she melted against him, the quick tilt of her face silently urging him to kiss her.
So he did.
He kissed her for a long time—long enough for her to start wriggling distractedly, in a way which only stoked his growing desire. He covered her lips in kisses, then turned his mouth to her throat, loving the way her head fell back to give him access to her neck and revelling in the way her thick hair brushed so sensually against his hand. He undid the robe and bent his head to kiss her tiny breasts, flicking his tongue hungrily over her thrusting nipples. And when her hips circled in wordless plea against his aching groin, he inched his fingers up her thigh. Up over the silken surface of her skin he stroked her until at last he found her tight little nub and began to play with her and she was begging him not to stop. Until she was letting him back her up against the dining-room table and he was seriously thinking about sweeping all the crystal and silver and breakfast remains to the floor—and to hell with the mess—when he drew back and looked down into her dazed face.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he growled, his hands on her shoulders now.
Tara’s throat constricted. Her breasts were aching and the syrupy heat between her thighs was making her wish he’d start touching her there again. She wished he hadn’t stopped. That he’d just carried on with what he’d been doing and ravished her right there, in the dining room. She might have only had sex once before, but she badly wanted to do it again. She wanted to be carried along on an unstoppable tide of passion like the first time—she didn’t want to have to make a decision about her actions.
But that was naïve—and short-sighted. She couldn’t regard sex like candy—something she could just take when she felt like it. Not when there were so many issues they still hadn’t addressed. Wouldn’t that be totally irresponsible? There were a baby and a future to think of.
And without that baby she wouldn’t be here in his arms like this, would she? She would be back home in Ireland while Lucas carried on with the rest of his life without her.
‘No,’ she said, shrugging his hands from her shoulders and taking a step backwards, even though her quivering skin still seemed to bear the delicious imprint of his fingers. With firm fingers she pulled the front of her robe together and knotted the belt tightly. ‘This is not going to happen.’
His expression told her he didn’t believe her. To be honest, she couldn’t quite believe it herself.
‘Are you serious?’ he demanded.
‘That’s the whole point, Lucas,’ she said, and suddenly her voice acquired a note of urgency as she stared into his beautiful face. ‘I am. Very serious. I mean, what precisely are you offering me here?’
The flattening of his mouth told its own story. A cynical indication that he now found himself on familiar territory—that these were female demands being thrown at him, something which had been happening all his life. ‘I should have thought it was perfectly obvious what I’m offering you, Tara,’ he said. ‘Sex, pure and simple. Because the bottom line is that we still want each another—surely you’re not going to deny that?’
No. She couldn’t deny what was obviously the truth—not when her nipples were pushing insistently against her robe, and his frustrated gaze indicated that their silent plea hadn’t gone unnoticed.
‘So why not capitalise on that?’ he continued, with silky assurance. ‘Stay with me here in New York and be my lover?’
The passing seconds seemed to drag into minutes as his words sank in. ‘Your lover?’ she verified slowly, thinking it was an inaccurate description when there was no actual love involved.
‘Sure. It makes perfect sense. I can make sure you look after yourself and we can enjoy some pretty incredible downtime.’ He gave a slow smile as his gaze travelled to the tiny pulse which was hammering at her neck. ‘What’s not to like?’
The fact he had to ask was telling, but Tara reminded herself that Lucas had never been known for his sensitivity to other people’s feelings. She told herself he wasn’t trying to insult her, or hurt her—he was just doing what he always did and taking what he wanted. And right now he wanted sex.
Perhaps if she’d been a different kind of woman she might have agreed. If she’d been worldly-wise she might have smiled contentedly and sealed the deal in the master bedroom of this luxury hotel suite. But not only was she inexperienced, she was also afraid. Afraid she would read more into physical intimacy than Lucas ever intended. Afraid of falling under his spell as she’d seen so many other women do and then being heartbroken when he tired of her, as inevitably he would. After all, this passion had happened so suddenly—it was likely to end just as abruptly, even if he hadn’t already had a track record for short-lived affairs.
She still knew so little about him. He was the father of her child yet she didn’t have a clue what his own childhood had been like, because he’d never told her. Just as he hadn’t told her what—if any—role he wanted to play in their baby’s life. Wasn’t the sensible thing to do to stay here and address all these issues in a calm and collected way? Not let desire warp her judgement and threaten to turn her into an emotional wreck.
‘Yes, I will stay here,’ she said slowly and then, before he could touch her again and make her resolve waver, she started backing towards the door. ‘But not as your lover, although I will continue to be your housekeeper.’
‘My...housekeeper?’ he repeated blankly.
‘Why not? That was the role you originally offered me, before—’
‘Before you spent the night in my bed?’ he growled.
‘It wasn’t the whole night, Lucas. I left shortly after two a.m., if you remember.’ She cleared her throat and forged on. ‘If you’re moving into an apartment you’ll need someone in post here and nobody knows the job better than