Chapter Eight
F or a split second Lucius caught a glimmer of panic in Angie’s expressive eyes.
Then she laughed. “Pity.”
He struggled to process the word. “What?”
“Yup, it’s true.” She turned back to Mikey. “I was overwhelmed with pity. Poor you. Couldn’t even buy yourself a wife. Thank goodness I felt sorry for you or you’d still be trolling for a bride.”
“You’re marrying me because you pity me?”
She released a sigh. Standing, she cleared away Mikey’s breakfast. After rinsing the washcloth she’d used to wipe his face, she returned and gave him a gentle scrubbing, one that had him crowing in vehement protest. She released him from his high chair, swept him up and dumped him into Lucius’s arms.
“Why don’t you get him ready to go outside while I shower? I’d like to swing by my house and change, pick up some clothes to stash over here before we shop for an engagement ring.” She waggled her left hand at him. “You do remember you were going to stick a rock on my finger, don’t you? And it better be an impressive one. I have a reputation to uphold as Mrs. Lucius Devlin. Because, apparently, not only do I pity you, I’m greedy as hell.”
With that, she turned on her heel and presented him with her pert backside showcased by his sagging, oversize sweat shorts. He couldn’t help grinning. “She gets high marks for the exit line,” he informed Mikey. “Afraid we’ll have to deduct points for the shorts, though if she twitched those hips any more she wouldn’t have a pair of shorts to worry about.”
Then it occurred to him that she hadn’t answered his question, which caused him to wonder. Damn it all, why had Angie Colter agreed to marry him?
The day sped by. After filling the trunk of his BMW with Angie’s possessions, they returned to Seattle’s jewelry district to shop for a ring. After the fifth store and an odd reluctance on Angie’s part to settle on one, he tugged her into his arms with a growl of exasperation.
“Try showing more greed and less pity,” he ordered, drawing her up for a swift, thorough kiss.
She gave herself up to the unexpected embrace without the least hesitation or reticence. He couldn’t explain it. How had they gone from a polite working relationship to one so sexually charged that even in the middle of a busy Seattle sidewalk he couldn’t keep his hands off her? It didn’t make the least sense. He was marrying her for Mikey’s sake. Because she was the perfect, most logical choice for a temporary mate. She was intelligent. Gorgeous. Sensible. Sexy as hell. And he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other woman.
The intensity of his feelings were dangerous, he acknowledged, and he’d better find a way of throttling back— and fast—or he’d find himself in deep, deep water with no land in sight. He deliberately released her and stepped back. She continued to stand with her eyes closed, swaying for a moment before her lashes fluttered and she looked at him, dazed. It was almost too much to resist. Almost.
“What was that for?” she asked, pressing her fingertips to her swollen mouth.
He had no idea. None. “A reminder,” he improvised.
“Okay. Um… What was I supposed to remember again?”
“To pick a damn ring. Make it snappy, Colter. You’ve always been a reasonable, decisive woman. What is it about an engagement ring that’s had you go all…all female on me?”
She lifted an eyebrow, the passion draining from her eyes, replaced with a crisp, cool look of displeasure. “I am female, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he murmured. That was the problem. He spent entirely too much time noticing.
Her eyes only narrowed, the comment not helping his cause any. “When I see the ring I like, trust me, Lucius Devlin. Your credit card will go from subzero to blazing hot in one fast swipe.”
If she hadn’t opened the door to the next jewelry store, and stalked inside, he’d probably have kissed her again. He didn’t know another human being alive who faced him down with such ease and with such a wicked edge to her tongue. Who would have guessed he’d appreciate that particular quality in a woman? Lisa had always attempted to get her way through wiles. Other women through sex. Still others, with tears. But not Angie. He always knew right where he stood with her. Unfortunately, right now he stood square in the middle of the proverbial doghouse.
He jostled Mikey’s stroller through the door and lifted an eyebrow. Did she realize she’d just walked into the Seattle branch of Dantes? He doubted she had any idea what a Dantes original wedding ring cost or she’d have walked by. Hell, she’d have sprinted past. He found her examining a display case, a salesman standing at a discreet distance, ready to assist if needed.
“See anything you like?”
“I’m looking,” she said, the words having enough bite that the salesman’s eyes widened.
Lucius attempted to look suitably henpecked. “Yes, dear,” he murmured. “I’ll just take care of the baby while you make up your mind.”
Her head jerked up at that and she swiveled, spearing him with a look. Then her anger dissolved and she burst out laughing, utterly confusing the clerk. “See that you do,” she ordered with impressive arrogance, falling into the character she’d been assigned. She switched her attention to the display case and pointed. “I’d like to see this one, please.”
Lucius came up beside her. “Don’t be so polite,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll spoil his image of you.”
She turned her head, her lips zeroing in on the side of his face in response. Time slowed and he heard the soft give and take of her breath. Inhaled the light fragrance that was so uniquely hers. Felt the faintest brush of her smooth, silken cheek against his more abrasive one. She said something in return. Something that took forever to slip from ear to brain for analysis and interpretation.
“Right back at you, ace. Henpecked husbands-to-be are required to stand a full pace behind their Bridezillas.”
She looked at the ring the salesman removed from the locked display and shook her head. “Close, but not quite what I’m looking for,” she confessed. “I don’t suppose you have any more by this designer?”
Lucius took a quick look at the ring. Beautiful, of course, considering it was one of Dantes, but definitely not right for Angie. Time to drop the subservient act. He removed a business card and handed it to the salesman. “We’d like to see what you have in the Dantes Exclusive line,” Lucius instructed crisply.
The salesman took his card, glanced at the name and stiffened. “Yes, sir, Mr. Devlin. Right away, sir. Mr. Arroya will see to you personally. He’s the manager. If you’ll just give me a minute to arrange for a showing?”
“We’ll wait.”
Angie watched the byplay with a small smile of bemusement. “No more role-playing?” she asked.
“No more role-playing,” he confirmed. “Tell me what you didn’t like about the ring.”
“It was elegant, but a little too flowery.” She gave an uneasy shrug. “It’s probably close, though. Maybe we should go ahead and take this one.”
“It’s one of the wedding lines created by Francesca Dante, aimed for the average consumer. I think you’ll find some of her exclusive collections more to your liking. I should have thought about coming here first.”
Angie stirred uneasily. “Exclusive collections?” she repeated. “That sounds pricey. The ring I chose is close enough. I don’t mind—”
He cut her off without hesitation. “I do mind.” He softened his words by linking their hands. “Your instincts are right on, Angie. You need something elegant, but stunning. Something that makes a statement, and yet suits your personality. People will judge your worth, as well as your value to me, by the ring you choose.”
He’d shocked her. “That’s horrible.”
“I agree, but it’s life. Trust me on this.”
The salesman returned and escorted them to a sweeping staircase. Lucius removed Mikey from his stroller, while Angie slung the diaper bag over her shoulder with the sort of loving panache that would have befitted a Fendi handbag. Once upstairs, they were shown into a private room with a view of the city.
The room, accented with a wealth of plants and gorgeous fresh flower arrangements, featured a plush, ankle-deep carpet in a pearl gray, giving the impression of luxury combined with warmth. They were shown to a sitting area that consisted of a love seat covered in a discreet pinstripe of gray and white, accented with narrow bands of black, and silk chairs in a rich ruby red. A glass table fronted the love seat and chairs, positioned slightly higher than a conventional coffee table. Overhead spots creating brilliant puddles of light, focused on the table in order to showcase the merchandise.
“I informed Mr. Arroya that the lady finds our Francesca designs most appealing,” the salesman explained to Lucius. “He’s selecting a few of her pieces with that in mind. In the meantime, may I offer you refreshments? Wine? Champagne?”
“Champagne sounds perfect,” Lucius replied, positioning Mikey so he couldn’t grab at anything harmful. Not that he need worry. Mikey simply stared at his surroundings, occasionally offering a babbling commentary in a serious tone, one Lucius answered in an equally serious tone.
The salesman returned almost immediately with a silver tray service that included a selection of hard cheeses, a dish of berries and even a small plate of sushi. He opened the champagne, poured. Then indicated the accompanying food. “Shall I serve you or would you prefer some privacy?”
Lucius inclined his head. “We’re good, thanks.”
The instant he left, Angie turned dazed eyes in Lucius’s direction. “Okay, wow.”
He handed her a flute. “Get used to it, at least when we’re out in public. In private, I prefer leading a far simpler lifestyle.”
She helped herself to some cheese, nibbling in what he took to be a nervous manner. “I hadn’t thought… Didn’t anticipate—”
“You’ve been part of my life for eighteen months, Angie. You’ve seen this side of things.”
“To a minor extent, yes.” She closed her eyes and confessed, “I’m feeling a bit out of my depth.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
She impressed him by nodding, straightening in her seat and taking a deep, calming breath. “Okay, I can handle this.” She studied the tray. “Would you like something to eat? The fruit mixture looks incredible.”
“Are there currants in there?”
“Yes, and color me impressed that you even know what a currant looks like.”
“No choice but to learn. Either that or make sure I carry around a supply of antihistamines.”
She regarded him in surprise. “You’re allergic to gooseberries? How could I have worked for you for so long and not known that?”
“It’s a mystery. I thought you knew everything.”
She offered a casual shrug. “I do now. I assume you’re not allergic to sushi and cheese?”
He took the plate she offered. “That I can handle.”
Tomas Arroya joined them just then, accompanied by an assistant. They exchanged the requisite amount of small talk before getting down to business. He had to give Angie credit. Even though this world was miles out of her realm, she handled it with a quiet poise that impressed the hell out of him.
She took her time examining the rings on display. He was probably the only one to catch the slight hitch in her voice and uncontrollable tremor of her hand when he slipped each ring on her finger. He could also tell that none of the choices was quite right, and sensed she teetered on the verge of choosing one, any one, just to be done with it. Mr. Arroya proved equally astute.
“These all look lovely on you, Ms. Colter,” he said gently. “But none suit the way Francesca would insist they must.”
“Oh, but—” Angie started to say.
Arroya simply shook his head. “No, no. They won’t do. Tonya, bring me Utter Perfection.” He patted Angie’s hand. “I think this next one may work. It wasn’t designed as an engagement ring, but as part of a set. Even so, I suspect it might be right for you.”
Tonya returned with a large velvet box. Tomas gestured toward Lucius and the assistant offered him the box. Fire diamonds shimmered beneath the light, exploding in shards of flame in a manner unique to the stones. The pieces were utterly exquisite—a necklace, bracelet, earrings and ring. The sheer simplicity of them would have caused most women to pass over the set in favor of something more ostentatious. But the instant he saw it, he knew it was not only Utter Perfection, but utterly perfect for Angie.
Lucius removed the ring from the case and took Angie’s hand in his. Sliding the narrow band of white gold onto her finger, he nodded. “This is the one. We’ll take them.”
He shot Arroya a look, one that had the manager’s eyebrows shooting skyward and had him nodding in instant understanding. Angie remained oblivious to the byplay, one hundred percent of her focus on the ring he’d selected.
“It’s…it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” she murmured.
And it was. The ring had a curving flow of small, perfect fire diamonds that seemed to float across her finger, like a trail of stars across the night sky. On one side of the pathway of diamonds was a huge, stunning solitaire, set slightly off center. Balancing it on the opposite side was a brilliant sapphire, the two stones like a pair of dancers, twisting around each other across the cosmos, their passage marked by the trail of diamond stars.
It was as unique and individual as the woman on whose finger he’d placed the ring. Even Mikey appeared riveted by the brilliant sparkle, babbling his excited approval. “I couldn’t agree more,” Lucius said and lifted Angie’s hand. He kissed her fingertips, then her mouth. A hint of tears flavored the kiss, revealing one more intriguing facet of her personality. He had a feeling the next few years would prove fascinating as he worked his way through all the interesting layers that comprised the woman soon to become his wife.
“Thank you, Lucius,” she said. “It’s the most gorgeous ring I’ve ever seen. Perfect, of course. Utter perfection.” She laughed through her tears and held out her hand to admire the flash and burn. Where before there’d been the slightest of tremors, now they visibly trembled.
Lucius’s gaze shifted from the ring to the confused delight reflected in Angie’s expression. He didn’t think he’d ever been with a woman quite so open in her attitude and responses. It pleased him. It more than pleased him. And he was glad they’d taken the time to find the perfect ring. The perfect ring for the perfect woman, came the wayward thought.
“You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Here…”
He handed Mikey to her while he arranged for payment. She took the baby into her arms and hugged him close while he followed the manager to another room where the business end of the transaction could be completed. The sale was accomplished as discreetly as everything else. Fortunately, the ring didn’t require sizing, so Angie could wear it home. He arranged to have the rest of the set messengered to him the next week since he preferred not to walk out the door carrying jewelry that cost the equivalent of a medium-size South Pacific island. Maybe even a small European country.
He rejoined Angie a short time later, and found her leaning against the back of the love seat with her eyes closed. Her left hand cradled Mikey’s head, her fingers sinking into the short, dark curls and gently stroking. For some reason, seeing his ring on her finger, the baby he’d taken as his own held tight within the warmth of her embrace, stirred a deep, relentless craving to make the picture she created more than just a business contract.
He felt the image of her and Mikey imprint itself on his mind and on what remained of his heart. And he wanted. Wanted to have the life that image promised. Wanted it to be real. Wanted it to last forever. He backed away, forcing himself to reject a temptation he didn’t dare surrender to.
He’d made a promise to her—that he wouldn’t force her into an emotional relationship, and he was honor bound to keep that promise. Besides, he wasn’t after an emotional involvement any more than she was. Opening himself up, meant trusting. And trusting meant eventual pain and disillusionment. Better to remain above all that, to avoid the bitter fall that would inevitably come if he were foolish enough to succumb to the fantasy.
Deliberately, he turned his back on possibility. “We’re done here,” he announced.
And that said it all.
He’d been quiet. Far too quiet for Angie’s peace of mind.
She glanced up from her book and studied Lucius. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, papers piled around him, Mikey on his lap. It never ceased to amaze her how at ease he was with his parental duties. And yet…
She sensed something, something that worried at the edges of her mind. She’d noticed it on several occasions and tried to call them to mind in the hopes of finding the connecting thread that ran through whatever it was that bothered her. The first time had been before he’d offered her the job of “wife,” though not long before, three months after accepting guardianship of Mikey. They’d just finished up work for the day and Keesha had dropped off the baby. As always, the baby greeted Lucius with a huge grin, reaching eagerly for the man he’d someday call “Dad.”
And Lucius had grinned back, actually crossing to the sitting area to give Mikey some one-on-one attention. She stood in the doorway to his office, resting her shoulder against the doorjamb while she watched, unnoticed. Since he’d inherited Mikey, she’d discovered that they had a little routine. First, Lucius would tickle Mikey’s belly which elicited gales of gurgling laughter. Then he’d play a quick game of peekaboo. And finally, he’d do something that caused an aching tightness to grip her throat. He’d count fingers and toes, as though reassuring himself everything was still safe and sound and accounted for.
This time was no different, except when he started to pull off Mikey’s tiny Seahawk football socks, he stopped and shook his head. And she could see, bit by bit, the way he closed down. Briskly, he checked Mikey’s diaper, handed him his favorite rattle and slipped him into his bouncy chair, one guaranteed to keep a baby entertained by playing a dozen different songs and featuring an overhead mobile of various farm animals. It even—heaven help her—vibrated.
The second time had been tonight at dinnertime. He’d taken Mikey into the kitchen to feed him and she’d been highly amused by the noises emanating from that direction. Sounds of planes, trains and cars. Baby giggles. Mealtime was clearly bonding time for the two boys.
And yet, after several moments the tenor had changed and when she entered the kitchen under the pretext of fixing coffee, she discovered it had become all business. Lucius sat with a cool, remote expression on his face, making steady inroads into shoveling food from plate to mouth, while Mikey watched with huge, painfully serious dark eyes.
Angie turned a page in the book she was pretending to read and continued to surreptitiously study the two men her life now revolved around. Where before Lucius had been playing with Mikey, now he studied a contract. She wouldn’t have thought anything of it if she hadn’t happened to glance up at the exact moment Lucius had transitioned from play to business. And then it hit her.
It was as though he’d caught himself doing something he shouldn’t. He’d gone from unselfconscious pleasure to abrupt awareness in the blink of an eye. And in that split second of time he’d barricaded himself off, distancing himself not only from his actions, but from whatever emotions he experienced while interacting with Mikey.
Why? Why would he do that?
He’d also barricaded himself off from her, she suddenly realized. It was after he’d paid for the ring. Up until then, he’d been involved. Engaged. Connected and connecting. She’d assumed the abrupt withdrawal had been the result of the ring costing more than he’d wanted to spend. But now she couldn’t help wondering if there weren’t another reason altogether.
Maybe he’d allowed himself to become emotionally compromised. Maybe he’d allowed himself, for one short moment, to believe their engagement was real. She couldn’t help but wonder if on some level he possessed a sort of internal warning sensor, one that went off whenever he became too personally involved—even if that involvement was with a small, helpless baby.
Even if that involvement was with the woman he intended to marry.
Not that it changed anything. She’d seen the true heart of the man and sensed the depths of emotion he worked so hard to deny. It was because he possessed those depths that he built walls to protect himself, locked himself safely away so he didn’t have to feel. Didn’t have to suffer the pain of loss or disillusionment.
She had a choice. She could allow him to continue to cement barriers in place until he became so swift and experienced at the process that she’d never find a way to break through. Or she could start undermining those barriers right here and now.
She made her choice even before the options were fully considered. Tossing aside her book, she crossed to where he sat and picked up the sleeping baby. In no time she had Mikey changed and tucked into bed. Then she returned to the living room and turned out the lights, just as Lucius had done the night before. And there, caught within the soft city glow and glitter, she slowly, tantalizingly removed her clothing, piece by piece.
Once again, she couldn’t see his expression. But she heard the tenor of his breathing change. Heard it deepen, thicken, grow heavy with desire. And she smiled. When had it happened? When had she lost her nervous dread, her insecurity about satisfying a man? She stood before him wearing only a tiny scrap of silk and lace clinging to her hips and reveled in her femininity, knowing that Lucius wanted her above all women. Not just for her body, though he’d left her in no doubt how he felt about that. But for her intellect, for her personality. And soon, if she had any say in the matter, for her heart.
“Finish it,” he practically growled.
She laughed, the sound soft and low. Ripe. Womanly. She skated her hands down her hips and shimmied free of the last of her clothing. And then she stood before him wearing nothing but the ring he’d placed on her finger, the flash a beacon calling him home. She traced her hand across the slight curves of her breasts, allowing the diamond’s fire to beckon. Traced her hand downward over her belly to the shadowed valley between her thighs where the fire became a flame.
With a muttered oath, he shot from the couch and caught her in his arms, tumbling her to the thick carpet at their feet. They fought through his clothing, his hands and hers colliding. Tearing. Ripping. Desperate to feel flesh against flesh. And when they were both stripped bare, open and vulnerable, one to the other, they came together.
“No more walls between us,” she demanded. “No hiding. No barriers. Just the two of us, allowing the other in.”
He shook his head. “It’s not what you want.” He nuzzled her breast, captured her nipple between his teeth and gently tugged. “Not what either of us wants. We’re too damaged to open ourselves like that again.”
She shuddered beneath the delicate touch. “How can you say that when this is what happens whenever we make love?” The words hung within the softness of the night, powerful and bright against the darkness. “It is what I want. What you want. What we both want from each other. To try again. To feel again. Admit it.”
His fingers danced low, sliding into the source of her heat and making her moan in longing. “You’re not Lisa…I get that. You’re not like any other woman I’ve known. But I lost the capacity to feel long ago.”
How could he say that? He tried to be that dispassionate man, no question. But he was so much more. She’d seen it. Sensed it. “Are we going to live like strangers for the next half-dozen years? Opening ourselves physically, but nothing more? Is that what you want for yourself? For Mikey?” She trailed her hands across the dips and ridges of his abs, following the crisp curls that guided her downward. He was hard and slick, the epitome of masculine strength and virility. She circled his length, guiding him to her heat. “Or do you want everything, everything I have to give?”
Lucius shook his head. “I can’t give what I don’t have,” he claimed.
And yet… And yet she felt the slip. The reluctant easing. The subtle collapse of barriers shifting and trembling. It wasn’t a surrender. But it was a start. They had time. Endless time to transition from a place of hurt and suspicion to trust and certainty.
She lifted her hips, took him in, crying out at the sheer perfection of fit and rhythm. “Lucius!” His name became both prayer and demand.
He took her mouth in an endless kiss, then pulled back ever so slightly. “Look at me. I want you with me on this ride.”
Their gazes met, clung. And what she saw there gave her hope. A spark. Just a spark of it, but it was enough. She let go, gave herself up to the heat and fire that burst into life whenever they came together. The flame became an inferno, unstoppable in its power. Branding them. Joining them. Binding them, one to the other—the fit, utter perfection.
Possibilities . He’d stopped believing in possibilities so very long ago.
Lucius gathered Angie up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom. Theirs. He shook his head, amused by the speed with which he’d transitioned from “his” to “theirs.” And he could pinpoint precisely when it had all changed. It had stopped being his bedroom the first night she’d shared his bed, just as he’d stopped being alone that very same night.
He’d resisted involvement. Would probably continue to resist…for now. But he could see that this time, because of this woman, his life would never be the same again.
She’d shown him a road he’d never noticed before, was utterly surprised to find it beneath his feet and himself some distance along its path. He hadn’t anticipated that occurring. Would have vehemently denied the possibility of it ever happening. And yet, here he stood with a woman in his arms and a longing in his heart he hadn’t felt in…
Forever.
Possibilities. For some reason his life had become filled with endless possibilities and they were all because of one woman. The woman who wore his ring on her finger. And if he had anything to say about it, it was a ring she’d continue to wear for the rest of her life.