Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle Celmer
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When she reached the dining room, Selene discovered Adrien had waited to begin eating. She took her designated place at the opposite end of the table and draped the napkin in her lap.
“Looks great,” she said as she inspected the food—blackened fish, a vegetable medley and rice. Unfortunately, she wasn’t at all hungry, even though she probably should be.
“Did you and Ella have a nice chat?”
Selene looked up from the plate to find Adrien staring at her. “We didn’t really have a chat. I told her to have a nice time and she told me to make you eat.” She picked up her fork and gestured toward his plate. “So eat, otherwise I might be out of a job if she comes back and finds you’ve totally wasted away.”
“I won’t be wasting away. In fact, I’ve had an increase in my appetites in the past few days.”
Selene concentrated on eating while considering he’d said “appetites,” meaning those not only having to do with sustenance. Needless to say, hers had improved as well, but not when it came to this particular meal. The fish was a bit too spicy for her taste and, although the vegetables were good, the rice seemed to stick in her parched throat. For the most part, she pushed the food around on her plate while the silence continued.
“I’m finished,” Adrien said after a time, drawing her attention to find his plate absent of any food.
Selene nudged her plate away and dabbed at her mouth with the napkin before setting it aside. “I’m finished, too.”
He leaned forward and studied her half-full dish. “You didn’t eat much at all.”
“It’s the hot weather,” she said. “I’m never that hungry in the summer.”
Without saying a word, he pushed back from the table, stood and strolled toward her, his gaze fastened firmly on hers.
Selene braced for what he might do next until he picked up her plate and said, “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”
She wasn’t sure she could move even if she’d wanted to.
Adrien grabbed his own plate, headed for the kitchen, then returned a few moments later with an open bottle of red wine. He came back to her, filled the glasses he’d brought with him and set one before her.
She waved it away. “No thanks.”
He nudged the wine closer. “Take it. You look like you could use a drink.”
Selene decided not to argue since a little libation might not be such a bad idea. Maybe it might even untangle the nervous knots in her belly. “Okay, I guess I could have a glass.” Or two or three should she decide she needed to find courage in a bottle. Ridiculous. She didn’t have to get drunk to enjoy Adrien’s attention. He was already intoxicating enough, particularly the way he filled out his slacks, something she couldn’t help but notice when he turned away to reclaim his place at the opposite end of the table.
After he settled back into his seat, he took a long drink of the port before he asked, “What were you like as a child?”
She wasn’t expecting that at all. “Serious, I guess you could say. An above-average student. I was fairly reserved.” And different, something she’d recognized at a very young age, thanks to the “gift.”
He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Interesting. I had you pegged as a social butterfly.”
She’d never quite left her cocoon, the one she’d weaved for self-protection. “Not really. Now my baby sister, on the other hand, was quite the hellion. Someone had to keep her in line.”
That seemed to pique his interest. “Are you and your sister still close?”
“Yes. Very close. She’s back in Georgia and about to have her first baby. Do you have any siblings?”
He drank the last of his wine and set the glass down hard. “No.”
Selene sensed that was somewhat of a sorry subject from the somber look on his face. “What were you like growing up?”
He flashed a wry grin. “Trouble.”
She couldn’t help but return his smile. “Why does this not surprise me?”
He rimmed a slow finger along the edge of his glass, drawing her attention. “Unlike you, I wasn’t a great student. You could label me the classic underachiever, at least during high school. I did manage to obtain an MBA from Notre Dame.”
Selene didn’t consider that an underachievement at all. “I went to the University of Georgia for my undergraduate studies. No master’s although I did consider going back at one time. But then I made that fatal mistake of getting married instead.”
“To Richard the fool.”
Selene wrapped both her hands around her glass and stared into the burgundy liquid. “Yes, to Richard the fool.”
She heard the scrape of his chair but failed to look up, her pulse accelerating with the sound of his approaching footsteps. She finally did give him her attention when he pulled her chair from the table, turned it to one side, then positioned another chair to face her and dropped down into it.
He rested his hands on her thighs. “I like what you’re wearing tonight,” he said in his chill-inducing voice.
“Thank you.” She’d actually chosen the sleeveless red silk blouse and black mid-thigh skirt for him, as absurd as that seemed.
He inched his hands higher, just beneath the hem. “Have you thought about what I proposed earlier?”
She sighed. “That’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
“And?”
“I need to think a little more.” As if she could really think at all with his hands on her. “I’ll do that while I’m washing the dishes.”
“The dishes can wait.”
“I need something to do while I think.”
He hinted at a smile, as if he might have a suggestion on what she could do. “Leave your veranda doors open in your bedroom. I’ll come to you.” He leaned over and brushed a soft kiss on her lips, then stood.
“I guess I’ll see you in a while, then.” She’d agreed without hesitation, but then she’d known all along she would. Known that buying more time would only delay the inevitable, and he knew it, too.
He turned away briefly before facing her again. “Don’t get undressed. Wear what you’re wearing now.”
“Anything else?” she asked.
“That’s it. For now.”
Then he was gone, leaving behind his sandalwood scent and leaving Selene with a heightened sense of excitement and impatience.
Whatever he had in store for her, Selene doubted she would easily forget it—and she hoped she didn’t regret it.
Twenty minutes later, Selene walked into the darkened bedroom, fumbled for the lamp on the dresser and switched it on. After slipping off her sandals, she crossed the room, the floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet, her knees practically knocking from nervousness. She knew what she was about to do would be deemed risky, the reason why she hesitated when she clasped the brass handles. As soon as she opened the doors, she would be opening herself up to several possibilities that could be very good, or very bad, at least in the long term. The long term didn’t matter. Being with Adrien tonight did. A risk she planned to take.
Selene opened the doors wide, letting in a draft of warm, humid air. The moon had returned, fuller this time, washing the veranda in a blue glow. She backed away, uncertain what to do next or where to go. Should she lie back on the bed? Or would that make her seem too eager? After deliberating a few moments, she turned off the light, took the wing-back chair across the room and waited. And waited …