CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
V AL CRIED OUT as she shattered in his arms, harder than she ever had before. The entire day she’d been trying to slow her thudding heart, pressing her thighs together at the dampness that collected there. And now, for the first time ever, she’d gone after what she wanted and got it. She’d bared her body to him and told him she needed him.
She fumbled urgently at the hem of his shirt and at the buttons of his trousers, wanting him as naked as she was. As she’d commanded, he didn’t say a word, and when he was finally bare and smooth and warm beneath her, he tipped her chin down so she was forced to watch her thighs open as he parted her slick, swollen flesh and he filled her. He throbbed and grew inside of her, grinding against her exactly where she needed him, building, pushing, tightening until they shuddered and came together.
It wasn’t until the stars behind her eyes faded that she realized she hadn’t even considered contraception. And neither had he. She closed her eyes again and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling him slide, slick and warm, from her. She’d get a morning-after pill tomorrow. It’d be fine . She didn’t want to leave this blissful state, not yet. She didn’t want to come back down to earth.
There was something about Desmond that made her believe it might be possible to escape the existence she’d been stuck in for so long.
Desmond’s hand was on her head, smoothing down the fluffy curls as they dried in the warmth of the room. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“Let’s go to bed.”
Going to his bed meant waking up in his arms, and…well, things had already been messy enough tonight. But going to her bed meant waking up alone when the man she ached for was in the same house.
Would it really be so harmful, allowing herself one more night?
Of course it would be. She couldn’t risk it.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet,” he agreed, and shifted to cradle her close.
* * *
When Desmond woke the morning after the memorial service, the rain had stopped completely and light was filtering across his bed from the enormous skylights in his room. It felt as if he were emerging from a spell. The soft yellow pool completely illuminated Val, who was sleeping on her side with her silk dressing gown clinging to her body. Her hair stood out from her head in soft shining puffs of black while her lashes curled low on her cheeks.
She looked so beautiful and it was with some effort that he resisted reaching out to touch the satiny smoothness of her cheek, or the bare shoulder that emerged from the pool of crimson silk. Instead, he eased himself from the sheets with practiced quiet, barely disturbing the bed, and moved soundlessly to the enormous alabaster marble bathroom.
Desmond washed his face and brushed his teeth. Then he sank down on the chair his barber normally used for shaving, trying to collect himself before he had to go out there and face her.
What the hell had happened last night?
Not only had he brought her home—something he’d never done with any woman he’d slept with casually—but he’d also taken her to his father’s memorial. And spending the night and subsequent day with her had made him forget the event was even taking place—which hadn’t happened in ten years.
What the hell had this woman done to him? Why had he opened up? The combination of beauty, maturity and kindness that radiated from her like light probably had something to do with it…
How could he have been so careless?
Maybe this is something you’ve needed for a long time.
The thought came to him unbidden.
He shoved it away violently.
Their night together wasn’t the issue; he’d self-medicated between the soft, willing thighs of many women over the years. But this…this intrusion into his home, into his heart …
He could not risk either. Not now, and not for the foreseeable future.
Desmond began counting breaths, tapping rapidly on his leg as he did so. He had to be calm when he left this bathroom, when Val was awake and looking at him with her usual gentleness, the gentleness he clearly had responded to so intensely the night before.
Had they really only known each other for two days?
The softest of noises in the doorway made him look up; Val stood there in the dressing gown, which was now anchored securely around her curves. Though the silk clung just as suggestively to her body as it had the night before, he did not feel any lust. Instead, he felt a tug in his chest that was much more disconcerting.
In the warm, natural light of the early morning she looked lovelier than he’d ever seen her. She was carefully expressionless.
“Good morning.” The huskiness in his voice surprised him.
“Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well?” Why was this painfully awkward already?
“As well as you did, I think.” There was a flicker of a smile on her face, enough to make him feel a bit better.
“It’s all right,” he said, careful to match her neutral expression with his own.
“I—I appreciate your trusting me enough to bring me to your father’s memorial service. I didn’t know him, but I’m sure, I’m sure he would be so touched. This deal is…it’s important for both of you, and I’ll help you in any way I possibly can.”
He waited for a moment. She said nothing else, only folded her hands.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment.
She cleared her throat and drew the crimson silk more tightly across her chest. “I should…get dressed.”
“I’ll walk you back to the guest wing…”
She shook her head. “I can find my way. And, Desmond…” she hesitated.
“Yes?” His heart was pounding in his ears, a dull rush of blood.
“I want to find him.”
“Find…?”
Val continued, stating her words carefully and decisively. “I don’t want to be married to him anymore. I want to be free. I want to put that bit of my life behind me, officially. I think the past couple of days have made me see things differently.”
Desmond’s heart was squeezed so tight in his chest he found it hard to breathe. “Go on.”
“You’re getting better at the listening bit,” she remarked, crossing her arms.
“You’re a good example. Go on, then.”
“Every single moment married to Malik felt like work. He was so—” She cut herself off; as if she wasn’t quite ready to discuss all that. “Exhausting,” she said as a compromise. “His ambition was great, and it was exhausting. And then he left, and that was exhausting. And then I found out about the debts. I was arrested, and then everything became a struggle. Getting up. Taking care of myself. It was all exhausting. Even sleeping was exhausting, because my mind was constantly racing. Where the hell would I get that kind of money?”
He nodded. “I wondered why your family didn’t help, but given what you’ve told me about them…”
She shook her head, one short sharp movement. “They think I’m out here by choice. I…couldn’t. Too many of them warned me about Malik, but I married him anyway.” She sighed. “You had your own break with your family, and I had mine. I couldn’t… I couldn’t burden them with this, not when they didn’t want me there.”
“Valentina—”
“Living a life where you’re constantly reminding yourself how foolish you’ve been—” She broke off. “Pursuing a divorce would have been another thing I had to do, and I was already so tired.” She paused, blinking hard, but a tell-tale wetness was already making its way down her cheek. “I wish I had a better excuse.”
Sweetheart. The endearment came to him so naturally, though he didn’t say it out loud. “You don’t have to justify anything to me,” Desmond said huskily.
“What happened here in London… I realized I want a different kind of…existence. I’ve never confronted him about what he did to me, whether directly or indirectly.” Her voice lowered. “I’ve been pathetic.”
Desmond made a hissing sound through his teeth. “Are you ever going to stop calling yourself names when it comes to that moron you were married to?”
“I don’t,” Val retorted. “All I meant was—”
“All you meant was that this is your fault. Again. But it’s not.” He paused to let that sink in, then leaned forward in his chair until their faces were very close. “He must have done a real number on you to make you think you’re not as extraordinary as you are.”
“Desm—” She couldn’t finish the word.
And Desmond found himself peering into her face. Their noses were almost touching, and he felt dizzy suddenly. Her eyes were soft and serious all at once. He had to make her listen. He reached down, took her hands.
“I think you already believe me, somewhere deep inside,” he said quietly. “Please don’t absorb one unworthy man’s bad opinion, Valentina. It will rob so much from you.”
Val bit her lower lip. Her exhalation of breath danced whisper-soft against his skin.
And there it was.
He kissed her, just for a fraction of a second, feeling warmth seep all the way to his toes, and when she opened her eyes, she was still looking at him with that oddly tender expression on her face.
And then he felt it again.
That tug of desire for something more.
Something that transcended sex.
Something that was not possible for them, and certainly not while she still wasn’t free of her first husband. Desmond wasn’t sure what the future held, or if he even could be a part of it. But suddenly it felt like possibilities were within his reach, each more beautiful than the last. It gave him a warm glow inside.
It gave him hope.
“Valentina,” he said quietly, and reached out to cup her face.
“Using my full name again, I see,” she said lightly.
“It suits you better, I think.” And maybe it did, now that the reason she’d shunned it in the first place seemed to be dissipating with each day. She laughed, a choked sound, and he thumbed away the dampness at the corners of her eyes. And for the first time in years he allowed what was on his heart to leave his lips.
“Get your divorce,” he said, simply. “I’ll help. Then, marry me, Valentina. For real this time. And come back to London with me, after I’ve solidified this deal. Let me have some part in starting your new life.”
Val considered this for a minute, chewing hard on the inside of her lip, trying to breathe through the emotions currently roiling through her. He couldn’t read her mind, but he would bet his fortune that what he saw reflected in the stunning clarity of those eyes was—
Hope.
It was a long time before she spoke and Desmond waited patiently.
“His name is Malik Ali,” she said finally.