Plunging after her, he didn’t stop to think or to consider his actions.
He caught her as she stood at the elevator. The frantic way her finger jabbed the button revealed she was a woman on the edge. The door pinged and Lucas decided he didn’t have time to argue in front of witnesses.
He scooped Becca up in his arms, ignoring her yelp of outrage and stalked back to the open door of his suite. Kicking it shut behind him, he moved into the bedroom and in a fit of temper heeled that door closed too.
He dumped her on her feet before pushing her back against the door. She was trembling and flinched as he slapped a hand on the door either side of her head effectively trapping her.
He bent his head to meet her eyes and he found he couldn’t be sorry for upsetting her since she’d taken his feelings and stomped all over them in a pair of shitkickers.
First of all she’d made him feel as if he’d found a special person, then like some sort of stud to be used and discarded. There was a double standard in there somewhere. Because of her, he’d ignored the rules of a lifetime. One of which was to
never
get involved with a married woman and she’d had the nerve to look at him as if he was pond scum? And then she’d told him she was a widow!
‘Look at me!’
It took a while, but eventually she did. And his heart lurched as he recognised grief, still raw, still fresh, vividly portrayed in those big blue eyes. But he spotted something else too, guilt.
He took a shot in the dark. ‘Am I the first man you have made love with since...?’
Her eyelids dropped. ‘That was not making love that was just rough sex,’ she whispered, evading the question even as heat scorched her beautiful face.
His brows flew into his hairline. Rough? Energetic perhaps, but rough? Vanity had never been an issue for Lucas neither was pride, but his ego took a direct hit. He was a generous and unselfish lover.
Last night had been a revelation. He’d reached a new level of self-awareness, a sense of a meeting of minds as well as a phenomenal physical compatibility. And she’d experienced it too. Becca just didn’t want to admit it. He’d never had a woman so responsive or so uninhibited in giving and receiving pleasure. However, unlike him, Becca appeared to be heavily burdened with guilt and regret.
‘Little liar.’ Tipping up her chin he forced her to look at him. ‘Answer the question.’
Annoyance snapped in her eyes and he was very pleased to see it instead of that desperate vulnerability that twisted his heart.
‘Yes!’ She pushed him but he didn’t draw back and alarm entered those blue eyes now.
The hit of relief that he’d been her first surprised Lucas in its intensity.
To hide his eyes he took refuge in nuzzling the frantic pulse under the soft skin of her ear. Her shiver of reaction along with her reluctant gasp of arousal had him take another shot in the dark.
‘And he was your first lover?’ he whispered in her ear.
She went totally still.
He lifted his head to look into her eyes and he nodded at what he saw there. He knew it. She’d been unskilled, lacking in confidence even as she’d given him everything he asked of her. When her trembling fingers had touched his shaft, he’d nearly come apart in her hand. And much later, when he’d asked her to take him in her mouth, she’d simply stared into his eyes before going down to press butterfly kisses, her pink tongue licking delicately the throbbing head of his erection. He’d never felt anything like it.
Although she’d trusted him and felt the connection, she’d enjoyed it too much and felt guilty. Well, Becca wasn’t going to dump that guilt on him.
‘Ah, and you feel guilty that you came apart in my arms in a way you never did in his.’
The hot flash in those amazing eyes was the only warning he received along with a furious cry before her nails raked down his cheek.
How dare he?
‘You arrogant,
bastard!
’
It didn’t matter that what he said was absolutely true. Becca had never struck anyone in her entire life, never mind claw a bloody path down another human being’s face.
Horrified she watched blood begin to pool and swell. She was trembling so hard her legs were threatening to buckle under her. A wave of nausea hit her like a tsunami leaving her bathed in a cold sweat.
She didn’t know what was worse, the fact she’d lost her temper and struck out or the fact that she didn’t feel an iota of remorse for it.
His fingers touched his cheek. He studied the blood with interest and gave a little shrug.
‘Not arrogant,
querida
. Confident.’ Lucas stepped back.
He didn’t look at her as he strolled to the bathroom and turned on a tap.
On legs that weren’t quite steady Becca moved to the door and watched him dab a cloth to the wound.
Self-disgust that she’d hurt him made her voice wobble.
‘I’ve never lost my temper like that. I’m sorry.’
In the mirror dark brooding eyes met hers.
He wasn’t angry she saw with relief, but his dark eyes went thoughtful as he studied her.
‘I deserved it. We appear to bring out the best of each other in bed and the worst of each other out of it. Why is that, do you think?’ He rummaged around his toilet bag.
Becca took a deep breath, desperately trying to ignore the stress headache pounding behind her eyes.
‘Pheromones, too much chemistry?’
He dabbed antiseptic on raw flesh. Then his eyes met hers in the mirror.
‘You think we have too much chemistry?’
‘We have too much of something,’ she muttered leaning for support against the doorframe.
Still his eyes stayed on her face.
The deep voice went gentle and soft. ‘When did you lose him?’
The tone resonated through her system, brought a hot sting behind her eyes. She didn’t want to do this. But then she caught his eye and read genuine sympathy and understanding.
He moved to stand before her.
‘Almost two years.’
His hand reached out and gentle fingers stroked her damp hair.
‘I am sorry,
querida
. You are still grieving. What happened?’
Becca kept her eyes glued to his strong jaw as her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands.
‘Bleed on the brain. One minute he was there, the next he was gone. Just. Like. That.’
She would never completely get over the shock of it. Not ever.
He cupped her face between his hands tipping her head up to stare into her eyes. Her gaze flicked to what she’d done to his face and he forced her to look at him. The intensity of those eyes the colour of bitter chocolate almost unnerved her.
‘It is nothing. It will heal. And so will you,’ he whispered.
Her face creased.
An unstoppable hot ball of emotion rose from her chest into her throat and exploded in a raw sob as tears finally tipped over.
Lucas merely caught her in his arms, sat on the bed with her on his knees and rocked her like a baby as she attempted to crawl inside his skin where it was safe and warm.
Even through a blizzard of pain Becca was more than aware of the boom boom of his strong heart. His scent comforted her as did the feel of muscular arms holding her tight.
He didn’t tell her to hush or that everything was going to be all right. It wasn’t all right. Her life was very far from all right. But she took his support and the offer of a shoulder to cry on. And she cried her heart out.
Feeling exhausted in the calm after the storm she simply turned her face into him and inhaled his strength.
‘I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry to dump all this on you,’ she mumbled.
His soft laugh vibrated through her cheek making her mouth twitch in spite of herself.
‘I suspect it was long overdue. Emotions are much better out than in and I have big shoulders,
querida
. How about breakfast? You need fluids to replace the river of tears.’
Sitting upright, Becca swiped her cheeks well aware that she was one of those women who ended up with red piggy eyes and a blotchy skin when she got upset.
‘God, I must look like hell.’
Lifting her to her feet, he stood. ‘You look beautiful to me. Go and clean-up. I will pour us a coffee.’
After she’d washed her face and did her best to repair the damage with the minimal amount of make-up in her bag, Becca studied her ravaged features in the mirror.
‘Woman, you’re a mess,’ she told herself before making her way through to the sitting room.
He was tucking into a plate of bacon and eggs she noticed, certain she’d never eat a bite of it.
‘Sit,’ Lucas told her in an autocratic tone and she was too tired and emotionally drained to let it bother her.
He poured her an orange juice, smeared jam on a thin slice of wholemeal toast and put it on her plate.
Leaning back in the chair, long legs stretched out, he caught her eye.
‘So, what are we going to do about this?’
She didn’t pretend not to understand him. He might be one of the biggest playboys in the western world, but Lucas Del Garda had a kindness in him she’d never expected to find.
In her line of work she was used to attracting men. She recognised the dark and sultry look in his eye. He wanted her. She was also honest with herself enough to admit she wanted him. The time had come Becca realised, to lay her cards on the table.
‘I’m not looking for a relationship, Lucas. I need my space. I need my independence. I lead a busy life and my work comes first.’
If he was surprised he hid it well. ‘
Si
, I understand. You want something with no strings. I can appreciate that.’
She just bet he did.
‘I’m not the type of woman to be at any man’s beck and call.’
He smiled now and she wasn’t sure she liked it. It reminded her of a big hungry lion licking his lips before devouring Bambi.
‘Let me take you home, Becca,’ he said in a slow drawl that tingled the base of her spine.
She started to complain that she was perfectly capable of getting a taxi, but the look in his eye told her they’d only end up fighting again and she found she didn’t have it in her to go another round with him.
His car reflected the man, a dark, polished and sleek Bentley.
When the vehicle purred to a halt outside her apartment Lucas didn’t offer to walk her to the door and she was torn between relief and disappointment.
He turned to her as she opened the door to get out and handed her the envelope.
‘I am flying to New York tonight and will be in the States until Friday. Take this. It has my email and personal cell details. Stay in touch.’
It was an order rather than a request and the tone pressed one of her hot buttons. But the burning kiss he planted on her mouth wiped every logical thought from her brain.
He released her and stared broodingly into her eyes.
‘Call me.’
She hadn’t called.
After six endless days Lucas checked his email and cell, again. Christ, this was worse than High School. And fool that he was he hadn’t taken her contact details in the certain knowledge that she’d call him. The chemistry between them had been outside his experience and by her reaction to him outside hers as well. Why hadn’t she phoned? Why hadn’t he taken her cell number? Because he had a big ego a little voice taunted. He’d been arrogant. Just because he had feelings for Becca didn’t mean that she had feelings for him. His gut told him that was crap. She had plenty of feelings for him. They might be mixed feelings and he could understand that too since his own were all over the place.
Sleep eluded him these days as did his healthy appetite. And his focus for business was off. Five times he’d caught himself reading and retaining nothing.
He uttered a single curse and pushed back from his desk.
Lucas paced to the floor to ceiling window. He stretched up to fist his hand against the glass and stared unseeing over the fabulous expanse of a glittering Manhattan skyline.
He prided himself on how he focused on an issue. His companies received his undivided attention, usually. Now he was angry. Angry that the person responsible for this situation was himself. He could not get those big blue eyes out of his head. The sound of her voice as he’d loved her, the feel of her soft skin as smooth as silk under his hands and her smell, her taste simmered in his blood.
With a low groan deep in his throat the Manhattan skyline blurred.
Lucas couldn’t help it.
His mind went back to the first moment he’d set eyes on Becca in the Blue Lagoon...
After a hard week, the idea of spending hours at a nightclub hadn’t appealed.
But his new client, a hot new actor, insisted he wanted to visit the new
in
place and it wasn’t long before they’d found themselves surrounded by beautiful women. He’d just managed to extricate himself from a pneumatic blonde who was clinging to him like a limpet when Becca’s big eyes collided with his across the room.
As his eyes locked on hers Lucas had a moment of lamentable weakness. The noise of the music, strobe lights and the bopping bodies of the dancers disappeared.
All he saw was her.
He knew now he’d never forget that moment for as long as he lived. My God, she was magnificent. In fact she was fucking gorgeous. She was willowy, with a smooth skin the colour of fresh cream and big eyes and dark glossy hair, curls that fell down her naked back.
And she was looking at him as if she’d been struck by lightning. Oh yeah, she felt it too. He walked towards her as if compelled by some invisible force. Christ, if he’d been drinking he’d have thought his drink was spiked by the way the room tilted. He was stone cold sober and moved closer.
Now he could see the colour of those eyes. They were a vivid blue surrounded by thick lashes and what a mouth. It was wide, well shaped with a full bottom lip. She smelt amazing, sweet, floral and warm woman. The scent of her a caress across his heightened senses.
His heart pumped too fast in his chest as his throat went bone dry.
What the hell
was
this?
He tried to remain calm. She was a woman. A total stranger. A human being made of flesh, blood and bone. So why the extreme reaction? Why the palpitations? Why the sweaty palms?