Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle Celmer
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set her bags on the kitchen counter, surprised to be greeted by Adrien, who both looked and sounded quite perturbed. He also looked like his usual sexy self dressed in worn jeans and tight white T-shirt. “I’ve been running some errands,” she said as she began to unload the groceries.
“You should have told me you were leaving.”
She slid two cartons of yogurt and a bottle of orange juice into the refrigerator, turned and closed the door with a push of her bottom. “I recall you telling me that I didn’t need your permission to leave the house.”
He took a quick check of his watch. “It’s almost nine.”
“I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”
He surveyed the two bags on the counter. “For someone who spent the day shopping, you didn’t buy much.”
“Actually, I didn’t only go shopping today. I met with the man who owned this house before your grandfather bought it.”
Adrien looked only mildly curious. “How did you find him?”
“Through a friend. He was very nice and accommodating.”
“The friend or the previous owner?”
He sounded jealous, and Selene loved it. “Both. The owner’s name is Jeb Gutherie. We had a very nice visit.”
“Where did you meet with him?” His tone was laced with suspicion.
She could extend the game, or admit the truth and be done with it. “At the retirement home in Baton Rouge. He lives there.”
If Adrien was at all relieved, he didn’t show it. “You spent the better part of the day with him?”
She’d spent the better part of the day in a bookstore with a mocha cappuccino, reading a sex manual. She’d also made a purchase that she hoped might prove beneficial later tonight. “I spent less than an hour with him, but I’ve solved the mystery of our lovers. He told me—”
“Spare me the details.”
She shrugged, said, “Okay,” and opened the cabinet to put away a few staples. If he was too stubborn to hear the news, she’d save it for later.
“You didn’t stop anywhere on your way back?” he asked.
His third degree was getting just a bit tired. “I grabbed some fast food on the way home. Oh, and I stopped at a biker bar and played pool with the locals. I even got a tattoo on my butt. It says Helpless Georgia Peach.” She turned from the cabinet and sent him a sunny smile. “Would like to see it?”
His expression turned stony. “I’m glad you find this humorous, but I damn sure don’t. Anything could have happened to you on the back roads at night.”
She couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. I drove all the way from Georgia alone and that took nine hours, not thirty minutes.” She propped one elbow on the counter and leaned into it. “Did you miss me?”
When he didn’t respond, she walked right up to him, wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. At first he failed to respond, but with a little cajoling, he soon became an active participant in the kiss. She relished the hardness of his body, the play of his tongue and the feel of his palms sliding over her bottom.
But Selene only allowed it for a while before she pulled away and reclaimed her place at the counter. “Well, I guess that answers my question. You did miss me.”
He stared at her for a few moments and Selene knew what he wanted to do. Saw what he wanted to do in a series of images, all involving hoisting her up onto the counter and having his way with her right there. But instead of acting on the fantasy, he turned and muttered, “I’m going to bed.”
Selene knew better. Maybe he was retiring to his bedroom, but he wasn’t going to sleep. And if all went as planned, she would make certain of that.
When she was assured Adrien had gone upstairs, she grabbed the plastic boutique bag and walked quietly to her room, turning down the lights behind her. She’d grown more comfortable with the darkness even though she still dreaded the sounds. Even more so now that she knew Grace’s and Zeke’s stories. She paused at the top landing and stared down the darkened corridor housing the nursery that had never been used, again overcome with a strong feeling of sadness.
Shaking off the melancholy, Selene headed down the hall, purposefully avoiding the demon’s steely glare. She took a quick bath, retired to her room and withdrew the negligee from the sack—a simple short satin slip of a gown, appropriately the color of her mother’s Black Magic roses. She could definitely use a little magic tonight, as well as some courage.
After dressing in the gown, she collapsed onto the bed and ran her hand over the silky fabric, bringing about a host of memories of the last time she’d done this very thing with another man in mind, but for all the wrong reasons. As it turned out, Richard hadn’t been at all receptive. With Adrien, she might be setting herself up for the same rejection. But she had to try. She’d spent a good two hours that day studying the philosophy behind tantric sex, and in turn realizing what Adrien’s “modified” method had been missing—the part that dealt with enlightenment and illumination, and the purity of love. In order to reach that plane, one had to be open emotionally as well as physically. Adrienhad avoided emotions altogether. He was still avoiding them.
Selene honestly believed that if she could convince him to let go of his resistance, his control, then maybe his internal wounds might begin to heal. Maybe he could allow himself to feel again. Or perhaps he might close himself off even more.
She wanted to take that chance. Had to take that chance. First, she had to find him, and she hoped that didn’t entail searching the entire house.
When she heard the sound of his door opening onto the balcony, she knew that wouldn’t be the case. The time had arrived to make her move. To show him that her patience had run out. And to make his fantasy a reality.
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