Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress

He was taunting her. And she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. “You can take off your pants, Adrien. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He stretched his long legs out before him and laced his hands atop his belly. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

A tiny shiver ran up and down her spine. “A bit egotistical, are we?”

“This isn’t about ego. It’s about your experience.” He leaned forward and nailed her with his deadly gaze, the medallion dangling from his neck serving as a reminder of his strength of will. “Have you ever really looked at a man before, Selene? Studied all the details of his body?”

She’d lost her virginity in the dark after a fraternity fling and had married a man who was a lights-out kind of guy. “I guess I would have to say no, not really.”

“Then you still have a lot to learn.”

“Let’s get to it then.” Obviously she was suffering from an overdose of enthusiasm.

“Not yet.” He slowly rose from the chair and stood before her. “We’re going to take this slowly.”

“I don’t want slowly.”

He pulled the sash, parted her robe again and slid it off her shoulders. “You’re going to get slowly whether you want it or not. Now recline on the chaise.”

Selene scooted up against the angled tufted back and stretched her crossed legs before her, propped her elbow on the rolled arm and draped her other arm across her middle. In a way, she felt like a queen waiting to be tended by a dark, dangerous knight. She found it odd that she didn’t feel uncomfortable over being totally nude in his presence, until he continued to stand there, sizing her up like a sculptor preparing to mold his next masterpiece.

In a fit of self-consciousness, she started to fold her arms across her breasts until Adrien said, “Don’t you dare cover yourself.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded pathetically weak, which complemented the way she felt at the moment.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” he asked.

“I’ve never thought much about it.” Other than she’d always believed her nose was too sharp, her hair too thin, her brown eyes too wide set and nondescript. All those little worries that women often obsessed about when things could be so much worse.

He moved a little closer. “Did he ever tell you that you’re beautiful?”

She sighed. “I don’t understand your preoccupation with my ex.”

“Because he’s the reason you’re unable to let go.”

Maybe so, but what were Adrien’s reasons? She wanted to ask but she didn’t want to anger him and, in turn, send him away. “I was under the impression I let go quite well last night.”

“Not completely. And that’s what I want from you tonight. I don’t want another man in your mind aside from me.”

He had no idea how deeply ingrained he’d been in her mind since they’d met. “I can manage that.”

“Good. But as tempting as you look right now, there’s not enough room for both of us on that damn lounger.”

Selene pointed to her left. “There’s always the bed.”

“And there are other alternatives, too.”

Obviously Adrien had an aversion to beds, Selene decided. And to lights, her next thought when he snapped off the floor lamp, sending the room into darkness. When she heard the rasp of his zipper and the rustle of denim, she stopped thinking altogether, her mind caught in the grip of anticipation even though she couldn’t see much more than the outline of his body.

“Stand up,” he said.

When Selene left the chaise, he clasped both her hands and held them against his chest. “I’m giving you the chance to learn all the details.”

“How can I when I can’t see you?”

He took her palm and pressed it against his face. “After last night, you should know the answer to that.”

She did know the answer—by using her hands. While Adrien stood there, his arms at his sides, she began by streaming her fingertips along his jaw before tracing a line along his full lips, pausing to briefly touch her lips there. She traveled down the column of his throat, past his Adam’s apple, and used her splayed palms to explore his collarbone before roaming down to the solid plane of his chest covered in a slight dusting of hair. When she grazed his nipples, she detected a slight shudder that led her to linger for a while longer before breezing her hands down his sides and over his rib cage.

Deciding to save the best for last, Selene moved behind him and felt her way over his broad shoulders, joining her hands in the middle of his back to follow the path of his strong spine. His skin grew damp beneath her palms and the cadence of his breathing quickened as she discovered the dip below his waist. She fashioned her palms to his buttocks, kneading slightly before following the crevice with her fingertips and curling them between his legs. He opened his stance slightly, allowing her more room to delve as far as she dared, which she did for a time before she touched the backs of his hair-roughened thighs.

She returned to stand before him, taking up where she’d left off, beginning with his rigid abdomen that grew tauter when she touched him. She circled her fingertip around his navel and his breath hitched slightly. Yet he kept his arms dangling at his sides, even when she moved her palms lower to stroke his pelvis, finding the ribbon of hair that created a path leading to all that made Adrien premium male.

But now that the moment she’d been anxiously awaiting had arrived, Selene hesitated, and that was absurd. She’d touched a man intimately before. Why was touching Adrien so different?

“Do it, Selene.”

Buoyed by Adrien’s demand, in a voice grainy with need, Selene didn’t have to journey far before discovering he was definitely aroused. She explored the length of his erection with a slow glide of her fingertip before taking him completely into her hands. She didn’t have to ask what he liked, what spots were particularly sensitive to her touch. She only had to open her mind and tap into his thoughts to learn his reaction as she began to caress him with long, fluid strokes. She soon sensed his emergent need, his battle with control. She knew he was nearing the edge and that he would prevent her from continuing a moment before he clasped her wrist and lifted her hand to his pounding heart.

“Stop.” Selene heard the effort in that one word, felt his slight tremor.

After Adrien tugged her down to the floor and positioned her on the plush Oriental rug, he left her for a moment to turn on the lamp, the beam illuminating her body like a movie premiere searchlight, and giving her a great view of the places she had touched only moments before. And what a glorious view it was.

He joined her on the rug, propped a throw pillow beneath her neck and lifted her arms above her head. In only a few moments, he had her body weeping for him, trembling for more, and he knew it, apparent by the perception in his dark gaze. When he came to his knees between her parted legs, Selene wasn’t sure she could stand the anticipation.

After spending a few moments finessing her breasts with his mouth, he drew a line with his tongue down her torso. And when he went as far as he could go before reaching his ultimate destination, Adrien lifted his head and commanded, “Watch, and don’t think.”

Selene could do nothing more than watch when he dipped his head between her legs and went on an all-out assault on her body, the kind that would definitely lead to an explosion. She laid her palms on his dark, damp hair as he explored, using his mouth to gain supreme advantage. As good as Adrien had made her feel last night, nothing could match this incomparable intimacy. Nothing. Her gratification only intensified when she opened her mind to him and saw the scene from his perspective, knowing that as he gave her that pleasure, he in turn received pleasure.

Selene could only remain mute and motionless … until he used gentle suckling as his weapon of choice. Her hips bucked when the climax crashed down on her, wresting another long groan from deep within her throat. But Adrien wasn’t through yet. With his gaze firmly locked into hers, he paused to blow his warm breath over her sensitized flesh before swooping back in with his clever mouth. He remained relentless with his goal through gentle yet single-minded manipulation. She wanted to beg him to stop. She also wanted more. After the second orgasm consumed her, bringing with it a series of shudders, she clawed at his shoulders and the word “Please,” left her mouth in a desperate, pleading tone.

Adrien worked his way up her body and kissed her deeply while she raked her fingernails down his back. He rubbed his chest over her breasts in a deliberate, rhythmic motion while she shifted her hips in encouragement. She sensed his sudden struggle, felt his faltering control and the nudge of his erection between her legs, until his mind went totally blank as if he’d raised a mental fortress to block her out completely.

Without any explanation, he rolled away from her and stood. Keeping his back to her while he shrugged on his jeans, he said, “That’s enough for now. We’ll continue this tomorrow.”

Selene recognized there was more to his reticence than taking it slowly. Much more. “Then you’re saying if I want you to make love to me now, you won’t do it?”

He turned, snatched her robe from the floor and tossed it at her. “Not tonight.”

She sent a direct look at his fly as she clutched the robe to her breasts. “Are you into masochism or are you trying to prove your strength?”

“I’m patient. I can wait. I also have some work to do.”

Selene pulled the robe on and thought back to the night when he’d first invaded her mind. When he’d denied himself then, as well. As he started to leave, she said, “What are you afraid of, Adrien?”

He turned and frowned. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

She rose and joined him at the door. “You’re afraid you’re going to feel something, aren’t you? That it won’t be only meaningless sex between us.” She lined the ridge beneath his slacks with a fingertip. “That has to be it since there’s not a thing physically wrong with you.”

She saw it then, another slide show coming from his mind—him backing her against the wall, shoving his pants to his thighs, thrusting inside her. But he forced the image away at the same time he took her hand and held it at her side. “I’m not afraid, Selene. But I say when and where we make love. You don’t have to understand why I want to wait. You only have to respect it.”

She understood all too well. A woman in his immediate past kept him guarded. Most likely, the woman named Chloe who was still influencing him, even if Adrien couldn’t admit it to Selene or himself. But Selene didn’t dare mention that woman’s name, otherwise she would have to explain how she’d come by the information. Right now she would keep her own secrets, and let him have his.

Resigned to letting him have his way, she stepped back and cinched the robe tightly. “Fine. You go ahead and leave now. But remember what I’ve said before, no power is absolute. I could very well be the one who says when and where.”

She knew he still battled with coming back to her, but when he touched the medallion dangling from his neck before turning away again, it became apparent his willpower had won out. At least for now.

After Selene returned to her bedroom, she forged her own plan. She vowed to help Adrien get past his fears and if that meant taking the lead, so be it. She might only be a temporary fix for his problems, a means to help him over the life-altering hurdle that had caused him to retreat. But as long as he didn’t turn her away, she believed anything was possible.

Adrien locked himself in the room across the hall to keep from going to Selene to finish what he’d started. He also needed to remember why he couldn’t become too deeply involved with her. What better place to do that but in this dark, desolate tomb? The room didn’t serve as a shrine; no real reminders of Chloe remained. At least not those that revealed what she had been, and not what she had become.

He walked to the window where she had once stood looking out over the grounds while dreaming of those things that had been outside her reach because of him. He collapsed into a chair by that window and, in the cover of darkness, plagued by the physical pain of needing and not having, he analyzed Selene’s conjecture.

He did have fears, all justified. He feared she could be the one woman who would force him to face his downfall, tear open his wounds and make him bleed again. He also recognized she was a woman who under normal circumstances wouldn’t interest him at all. But nothing about their liaison was normal. From the beginning, he’d realized she was special, unique in ways he didn’t quite understand. He only knew that something about her had drawn him from the moment he’d seen her.

He also recognized the risk in that. A risk he couldn’t afford. He’d set a dangerous course the moment he’d touched her, and he needed to halt it soon. Before he did something that they would both regret.

Seven

The following morning, Selene needed something to do other than worry over Adrien. For that reason, she opted to explore the third-floor attic, afforded only a brief glance at Adrien’s closed office door and kept right on walking until she located the attic’s entry. After last night, she decided she’d been too accessible. Too compliant. The time had come for her to take control.

When she opened the attic door, she encountered another steep staircase and flipped on the switch that turned on a lone bulb hanging high overhead. With each step she took, an ominous feeling assaulted her. She scolded herself for overreacting and continued on, not certain of what she would find. Hopefully not a passel of rodents and spiders. Or wandering spirits.

She opened a second door and entered the area that spanned the length of the house. Although rays of light filtered in from the three dormer windows, the place still retained a gloomy atmosphere, from the weathered wood floors to the cobwebs draped in the corners. A pile of helter-skelter planks and fabric near one window immediately caught her attention, and upon further investigation, she discovered several splintered chairs and tables, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer or hacksaw to them. Someone who obviously didn’t like the furniture, or had chosen to expend their anger on the antiques.

A sense of foreboding sent chills up her spine like menacing fingers, and she gladly left the furniture remnants behind to examine the two boxes across the room. She came upon a gold mine—several pieces of fine china and glassware, all carefully wrapped in white cloth, a definite contrast to the destruction. But she found no missing journals, no other pieces of the past. And she wasn’t up to searching for more clues at the moment.

After organizing the boxes, Selene left the attic and made her way to the room that Ella had claimed was once the nursery—a happier place, she hoped. She again paused outside Adrien’s office door and considered knocking, until she heard the sound of muffled conversation. Apparently he was on the phone discussing business, so she decided not to disturb him. At least not yet.

Selene opened the door to another lengthy room painted a bright yellow, sunshine spilling from the uncovered windows casting golden light on the walls, dust motes floating about like miniature snowflakes. And in the corner rested a tiny spindled cradle and a lone wooden rocking chair that looked as if they’d had limited use. When she crossed the room and nudged the cradle, a strong sense of sadness overcame her. Perhaps this room, too, had been the site of some tragedy, and she hated to think that tragedy involved a child.

A series of shrill rings jerked Selene back into the present. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and answered with a melancholy, “Hello.”

“Hi, Selene. It’s Abby. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. As a matter of fact, I was about to call you. I’ve found a few pieces of china I’d like you to take a look at when you have time.”

“I’ll be out of town until the end of next week, but feel free to bring them by then. And I’m calling you because I think I found someone who might be able to help you with the house’s history.”

The timely twist of fate definitely elevated Selene’s optimism. “Who?”

“His name his Jeb Gutherie and he lives in an assisted-living community in Baton Rouge called Briar Oaks. I don’t have an exact location, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Not much to go on, but Selene was willing to take her chances. If she left now, she could arrive before lunch. And if lucky, she might have at least one mystery solved today. “Thanks, Abby. You’ve come to my rescue again.”

“You’re welcome. How’s the job going?”

The job was going fine. Her relationship with Adrien was going places it probably shouldn’t. “I’m making slow progress, but it’s still progress.”

“Seen any ghosts yet?”

Only in her dreams, particularly last night. She’d seen Grace’s face that had turned into another unidentified face—a woman with light brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. She’d woken up twice, practically paralyzed, before drifting off to sleep only to have more fitful dreams of falling. “No, no spirits. Only the occasional creepy house sound.”

“Let me know if anything changes, and good luck.”

Following the phone call, excitement over the prospect of unraveling the plantation’s past sent Selene out of the house and to her car without telling Adrien goodbye. After all, he’d said she didn’t need his permission to leave, and she didn’t intend to request it. Having him wonder where she might be going could prove to be a good thing.

He stood at the window and again watched her leave, wondering where she might be going this time. Maybe back to Georgia, although she had no suitcases in her possession. He’d heard her footsteps and had opened his door to see her entering the attic and knew what she’d seen—the result of his fury. Yet she had no way of knowing he’d been responsible for the destruction. No way of knowing why he’d taken out his anger on several priceless antiques, and he didn’t plan to tell her.

He had no plans to return to her tonight, either. He needed time to assess his next move. To decide how much farther he would go before he put an end to their liaison. Creating some distance between them would be wise. But his wisdom warred with his desire, and only time would tell if he could stay away from her. Correction, how long he would stay away from her.

Little by little, she was wearing him down. Tearing away at his resistance and, if not careful, he’d end up traveling down a road he didn’t dare take.

An hour later, Selene pulled into the parking lot at a high-rise retirement community north of Baton Rouge. She entered the foyer and was immediately greeted by a young woman seated behind a reception desk. “Welcome to Briar Oaks. May I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m looking for Jeb Gutherie.”

She eyed Selene suspiciously. “Is he expecting you?”

“Actually, no. But I believe he has some information I need.” Selene glanced at the woman’s name tag. “Tisha, could you tell him I’m inquiring about the history of a plantation in St. Edwards?”

Following a sigh, the young woman slid a clipboard in front of Selene. “If you’ll sign in and wait here, I’ll see if I can find him.”

Selene jotted down her name and waited a few moments until the receptionist returned. “He’ll see you,” Tisha said. “But I have to warn you, he tires easily and might nod off now and then. And he’ll need to be in the dining room in about twenty minutes for lunch.”

As long as she could garner some information, Selene could live with that. “I won’t keep him too long.”

Selene followed Tisha through the vestibule that opened into a large atrium with an open-air dining room to the right and offices on the left. Just beyond that, Tisha stopped at a smaller room and faced Selene. “This is the game room. If you need to speak with him privately, you can use the conference area next door.”

Selene peeked inside to find a group of four elderly gentlemen playing cards at a round table. “Which one is he?”

Tisha pointed discreetly. “On the far end facing us.”

Selene homed in on the man seated in a wheelchair, his shock of gray hair contrasting with his mocha-colored skin. He wore a neat brown suit and a number of years on his thin face. “The one in the bow tie?”

“That’s him. And good luck.”

“Thanks.”

After Tisha departed, Selene stepped into the room and cleared her throat. “Mr. Gutherie?”

He glanced up from his cards, mischief calling out from his light brown eyes. “Well looky here, boys. I have a guest. And a mighty pretty one at that.”

All eyes turned to Selene and, after the rest of the card players muttered polite greetings, Mr. Gutherie said, “Could you give us some privacy, gentlemen? We’ll take up where we left off after lunch.” He spoke with Southern sophistication, his voice as clear as the summer skies.

The men pushed back from the table, stood and passed by with greetings and cautions not to believe a word Gutherie said. After they’d filed out, Selene approached the table. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Gutherie.”

“Call me Jeb,” he said as he gave her offered hand a gentle shake. “And forgive me for not standing. My legs don’t work well, but my mind’s still as sharp as a steel trap.”

Selene took the vacated chair next to him and set her purse on the floor beside her. “I’m here about the House of Midnight.”

His expression turned somber. “The House of Sunshine, you mean. Or at least that’s what it was called a long time ago.”

A piece of the puzzle had already fallen into place, and that pleased Selene greatly. “I didn’t realize that about the name. In fact, I know very little about the plantation’s history, and that’s why I’m here.” She briefly explained her role in the restoration, and then asked the first question that came to mind. “Someone told me you might know something about the previous owners, specifically a woman named Grace. Her portrait hangs in the rotunda.”

“Ah, Miss Grace.” He tented his fingers beneath his chin and tapped them together. “She lived in the house a long time ago and died before I was born. But my grandmother spoke fondly of her. They grew up together and remained good friends, even after the war.”

“Which war would that be?”

He chuckled. “The Civil War, although it wasn’t too civil.”

Selene tried to hide her shock but doubted she succeeded. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“I’ve seen one hundred years as of this past May,” he said proudly. “Miss Grace was my aunt.”

Another surprise among many. “Your grandmother and Grace were sisters?”

“No. Miss Grace and my father were half siblings by Stanton Gutherie, a heartless bastard. He owned the plantation next to Sunshine House and thought he owned everything and everyone, including his workers. My grandmother, Effie, was one of his slaves, orphaned at a young age when her parents died after the war. She had no place to go, so she stayed on at the Gutherie plantation. And when she was only fifteen, Stanton got her with child. That child was my father.”

Selene had never expected such a disturbing history. “How did Grace come to live at the plantation?”

His face lit up with remembrance. “Ah, Miss Grace was as pure as her father was evil, according to my grandmother. She fell in love with Zeke Cormier, the owner of Sunshine House and a man Stanton hated. But she defied her father and married Zeke against his wishes.”

Now Selene knew the identity of Z. in the journal—Grace’s journal. “And your grandmother continued to live with Stanton?”

“Luckily, no. Grace took Effie and my father to live with her after she married.”

Jeb went on to explain how Grace had become pregnant two years into the marriage, how Effie had described the pure joy in the house, until Grace passed away from black fever a few weeks before the baby was born, a little boy who perished as well.