Chapter 4 #2
But it did not mean he had to sever all contact. Sliding off her, he kept one arm possessively wrapped around her waist and brought her to lie on his chest.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. His breathing was still very erratic. He was so filled with her, he could not think of anything else.
"You okay?" he finally murmured.
"Yes."
"Sure?"
"I am. It's..." She cleared her throat and finally lifted her head. And felt the punch of his green gaze hitting her head on. "This is insane," she muttered.
"I agree." Lifting a hand, he brushed back tendrils that clung to her forehead. "And your point would be?" His lazy grin was devastating and stirring her senses again. The man was lethal.
If she wasn't careful, she would be...
Ruthlessly brushing the unwelcome thought away, she settled back down. "I want to sleep."
"All right." He had seen the look of total confusion on her face and knew what she was struggling with. "Good idea." Bending his head, he whispered against her ear. "Rest up, we're far from finished."
Her only response was a snort that had him chuckling.
*****
"I haven't the slightest inclination of arguing with you." Leanne continued applying her makeup with meticulous care. She had gone over the time she was supposed to get back to work and that was just to prove to him and herself that she was fine for now.
The nausea was at a level she could tolerate. The doctors had given her a full report on her physical wellbeing as well as those of the fetuses she was carrying. She had taken the extra week off to get him off her back.
Now it was time to earn her living.
Not to mention the fact that he had stopped by during that week as usual, earlier than she anticipated and found her in tears from a phone call with her mother.
Laura Wilcox certainly knew how to turn the screws to make her feel like crap, no matter how old she was and how much she told herself that she did not give a damn what the woman thought of her.
She had been lectured up and down about being careless enough to have 'that man' getting her pregnant.
"How is it going to look?" She had demanded.
"I'm a prominent member of my church and my only daughter is having babies, three at that, out of wedlock.
You should be ashamed of yourself. And what if he leaves?
How are you going to take care of three children all by yourself?
I hope you don't expect me to support you in this. "
"Of course not mother," she had responded stingingly. "You're forgetting that the babies' daddy happens to be a billionaire. Which means he's loaded and perfectly capable of taking care of me and the babies I'm carrying."
She had been subjected to more stinging criticisms and dire predictions that had left her shaken to the core.
He hadn't stopped until he dragged the entire sordid details from her. His anger had been palpable. She had a feeling that if her mother wasn't all the way in Palm Springs taking care of a sick church member, he would have confronted her.
Instead, he had held her, until she had calmed down.
She was grateful for his support, but nothing he said was going to stop her from boarding that ship tomorrow.
Putting down the tube of orange lipstick, she turned to face him.
"I'm doing things your way. I'm getting dressed to have dinner with your family because you pressured me into it. I stayed back a week from work because you ordered it." Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not used to people telling me what to do here, so I suggest you tread lightly."
She rose from the vanity stool and had to steel herself against the sudden dizzy spell and prayed silently that now would not be the time her stomach chose to let her down. Or she would not be winning this fight.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. "You still look out of it."
To her relief he turned away to go and get her jacket. He had also been trying to talk her into living with him. To which she had said a definite no.
"I feel fine."
"I can always fire you." It was said in such a mild tone, one could believe that he was joking. She knew better.
"I don't work for you."
"Technically, you do. Kostas Princess is ours."
Dragging her jacket away, she went to grab her purse. "And if you try and use your influence to make things difficult for me, you'll regret it," she warned.
"What would you do?" he asked in that same annoyingly reasonable tone, setting her teeth on edge. "Run away?"
She sent him a pulverizing look over one shoulder. "I don't run."
"Good. Because I would just chase you down and lock you up." He clamped his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. She was magnificent in her anger, he thought in admiration. And stubborn as hell.
But he was making some sort of breakthrough.
She was finally agreeing to have dinner with his family, which was a very good sign.
He had the idea that if she could see herself in a setting like that, surrounded by loving people, she would start to realize that there was more to life than her painful upbringing.
And he was patient enough to go through all the layers.
"All right." His fingers bit into her shoulders when she tried to move.
"You win. But..." His face turned to stone, the determined jutting of his chin warning her just how serious he was.
"You will pace yourself. You have an assistant for a reason.
And one word that you're in any sort of discomfort or you're doing too much and you're off the ship. Am I clear?"
She gave him a stony look that had him meeting it with one of his own.
"You think you own me now?"
"Do you want to be owned?" He was using the same annoyingly reasonable tone that was just pissing her off even more. And he knew it. Damn him to hell. She could see the amusement glinting in his eyes.
"Let go of me."
"Now darling," he drew her inexorably closer, one hand clamped at her neck, fingers toying with the silky hair there.
She had left it loose, much to his pleasure and the strands were glowing with life.
"You don't want to arrive at my family's place all hot and bothered under the collar. We want to present a united front."
In one smooth move, he managed to avoid her fists by hauling her up against him. "My mother will want to get to the bottom of it and what would we say to her?"
"It's none of her damn..." The rest was swallowed by his mouth. She resisted, a token resistance of course, because the second she felt his breath on her lips, she was lost. With a murmur deep in her throat, she curled her fingers into the thick material of his sweater and surrendered.
He had meant the kiss to be light, teasing, a way of cutting off her words and quelling her temper. He should have known it was never that simple or easy between them. The kiss took on the familiar madness.
Her scent surrounded him, took him over completely. The sweetness of her breath stirred him to madness. The insanity was inside him, making him weak with need.
His hand drifted restlessly from the back of her neck to the curve of her back until he was molding her to him. He knew the very instant she felt his arousal. Her gasp was swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss.
It was getting away from him; he could feel it. All he wanted to do was carry her back to bed and spend the afternoon losing himself in her. The desire was so sharp, so intense, it felt as if his body was being seared through, cutting to the bone.
It took almost superhuman effort and the thought at the back of his head of his mother's voice reminding him that supper was at seven.
Dragging his mouth from hers, he gulped in several deep breaths.
"We have to stop." His voice was harsh, his face taut with passion. "As much as I would love to spend the time exploring your body, we have to go."
Reason surfaced quickly and so did the mortification and helplessness she always felt when he touched her.
Jerking away, she tried to push away, but he held her fast.
"Don't!"
His sharp tone had her angling her head to look at him.
"Don't spoil this, not now. We feel what we feel and there's nothing wrong with it." His eyes swirled with emotions.
"Like you said, we need to go. I have to..." her hand fluttered to touch her hair. "Do something with this."
He combed his fingers through the thick strands, watching in fascination as the silky length shimmered in the light. "I hope our children look like you."
She gave him a surprised look, refusing to be charmed by his words and the look on his face.
"Biracial children. They will have crazy hair and green eyes."
"I happen to have a fondness for mahogany brown." Tucking his fingers under her chin, he studied her eyes.
"Don't," she whispered.
"Don't what?"
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like I want to devour you?" His voice had deepened. "I do. And I know you want the same thing. But obligations call and mother is a stickler for being punctual. We could swing by my place afterwards and you spend the night."
"I'm not shacking up with you." She turned so he could help her on with her coat.
"There's always a second option."
"Which would be?"
"Marriage darling," he whispered against her ear.
"We really should go."
He chuckled wryly as she slipped away from him.
"You're not going to be able to avoid the topic forever."
"Now is good enough," she retorted.