Forbidden Desires: A Debt Paid in Passion / An Exception to His Rule / Waves of Temptation
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The phrase long-suffering came to mind as he saw past her impassive expression to the self-protective tension in her body language. For the first time he heard the stark despondency in her voice. It had the same underlying incomprehension he felt when he talked about his father’s suicide. She didn’t understand. She was merely accepting what she couldn’t change.
His heart lurched. He prided himself on supporting his family and living up to his responsibilities, but he had leaned heavily on Sirena when she worked for him. Where was her pillar of support, though? Her talk last night of being scared and ill and forsaken by her family had terrified and angered him anew. He wondered why she had needed the money. She had never said, but he was damned sure it wasn’t for gambling debts or high fashion or drugs.
“Why did you steal from me, Sirena?”
She flinched at the word steal, then a kind of defeat washed over her, shutting her eyes and making her shoulders slump. “My sister needed money to pay her tuition fees.”
The words left a bang of silence like a balloon popping into jagged pieces. He hadn’t expected it, but it seemed oddly predictable after the fact.
She rushed on. “She was so upset after working so hard to get accepted to her degree program. They have a huge waiting list. She couldn’t just wait a semester and apply again. And she’ll make an amazing teacher, because she understands what it’s like to struggle. I honestly thought it would only be for a few days until Dad got payment from his customer— Please don’t go after him for repayment,” she said with sudden stark alarm. “Things happened with his business. He doesn’t have it and he’s really struggling. It would kill him to know how much trouble I got myself into.”
Her misery was real, her regret so palpable he could taste it. There was no struggle over whether to believe her. The explanation fit perfectly with her revelations last night about her love for her sister. He’d always seen her as loyal. It was why he’d been so blindsided by and furious about her dishonesty. It was exactly like the woman he knew to step up and fix things as expediently as possible.
None of that excused her behavior, but at least he understood it.
“I think she’ll go down for a while now.” She rose, pale and not meeting his eyes.
He should have let her leave him to his thoughts, but put out his hand to stop her.
She halted, eyes downcast. Subtle waves of tension rolled off her. He could tell she wanted to be away from him, but she wasn’t willing to allow contact with his outstretched arm even to brush it aside so she could leave the room.
Her refusal to touch him spread an ache of dismay through him. They’d torn the curtains back and exposed their motives for treating each other the way they had, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d stolen and he’d wanted her jailed her for it. Those sorts of injuries took a long time to heal.
But they had to ignore the pain and make this work in spite of it.
“The simplest, most advantageous solution for Lucy would be for us to live together permanently,” he began.
Her shoulders sagged. “I know, Raoul. But it wouldn’t work. We don’t trust each other.”
She seemed genuinely distressed. He felt the same, but he couldn’t give up. It wasn’t in his nature.
“We can start over. We’ve cleared the air. Damn it, Sirena,” he rushed on when she shook her head. “I want to be with my daughter and you feel the same. You can’t tell me you’d rather put her in day care for most of the time you’d have her. And when she’s with me, I’m hiring a nanny to watch her so I can work? It makes no sense.”
“But—”
“We put this behind us,” he insisted, overriding her. “You just have to be honest from now on. Swear to me you’ll never steal from me again. I want that promise,” he stated firmly. More of an ultimatum, really.
Her eyes welled. He was coming at her from so many angles and she was still muddled from a rough sleep. She’d been deeply hurt last night. She’d tossed and turned, convinced that telling him anything about how badly he’d wounded her had been a mistake. What would he care? He would find a way to use it against her.
When she’d risen, she’d been determined to start the move back to her flat.
Then she’d found him looking like a pile of forgotten laundry, hair rumpled, sexy stubble on his cheeks and tortured shadows under his eyes. Her heart had been knocked out of place and was still sitting crooked in her chest. Everything he’d said had put her determination to leave him into disarray.
Falling for my secretary...
That barely there hint of regard shouldn’t make her blood race, but it did.
“We’ve managed until now and we were furious with each other,” he cajoled.
“I’m still furious,” she interjected with more exasperation than heat. A lot of her bitter loathing was dissolving. She couldn’t help it. Getting that peek into his past explained so much, not least his single-minded determination to succeed.
And it did nothing to dissipate the attraction she felt toward him. If anything, it was worse now. The thick walls she’d built against him were thinning and little fantasies of somehow finding a future with him, earning his trust and maybe his love, sparkled like fairy dust in the edges of her vision.
So dumb.
Given what he’d just told her, it was time to accept that he would never, ever love her. The best she could hope for was this, a truce and a fresh start.
Injustice sawed behind her breastbone like an abrasive file.
Lucy grew heavy in her arms. She started to change her position, then let Raoul take her, watching as the limp infant was tucked lovingly into her father’s chest.
Folding her empty arms, she tried telling herself she could manage alone, but she couldn’t ignore his point about day care.
“My mother wants to see her,” Raoul added in quiet insistence. “You know how hard travel is on her. Lucy obviously hates the bottle. We could force the issue—”
“No!” she blurted, hating thinking of Lucy being distressed about anything. If she preferred to breast-feed, well, this was a finite time in both their lives.
“You’ll come to New York with us, then.”
“Don’t start with your pushy tactics! I know how you work, getting a small concession and turning it into a major one,” she said with mild disgust. “I’ll think about New York. And if I go, it won’t be as your—”
Lover? Mistress? Girlfriend? The words all sounded so superficial and temporary, paring her self-worth down to nothing.
“Nanny?” he prompted, mouth quirking briefly, then he sobered. “I’d have to hire one if you don’t go. I’d prefer to pay you. You could quit the transcription.”
“Don’t make it sound easy. It’s not.”
One long masculine finger touched her jaw, turning her face to his. “What’s hard? Making the promise about not stealing? Or keeping it?”
His challenge pinned her so she felt like an insect squirming in place, unable to escape even though she wanted to scamper away. Dying by increments, she felt the spasm of hurt reflect in her face before she was able to mask it, but a pierce of pain stayed lodged in her heart like an iron spike.
Looking him straight in the eye, she defiantly said, “I will never take anything from you. Ever.”
He held her gaze for so long she almost couldn’t stand it. Tightness gripped her chest and her skin felt too small for her body.
He nodded once.
As he walked away, she hung back, trembling. Had she lost or won?
* * *
Raoul’s mother cried when she held Lucy for the first time.
“I never imagined he’d give me a grandchild. He’s such a workaholic.” Beatrisa was a tall, slender woman who dressed well and bound her silver hair into a figure eight behind her head. Her subtle makeup enhanced her aristocratic features and she wore elegant jewelry that Sirena suspected were gifts from her son.
Beatrisa had always seemed to lack a real spark of life and now Sirena understood why. She felt a tremendous need to be kind to the older woman, and was glad she’d conceded to the trip, even though everything about staying in this house was awkward.
“She thinks we’re a couple,” she hissed when they were given a room to share.
“What a crazy assumption, with the baby and all,” he drawled.
“You should explain to her.”
“How?” he countered with exasperation.
Oh, that attitude of his grated. Especially since she could see how it would go. Beatrisa was being incredibly polite, plainly trying not to pry as she accepted their “modern” relationship with a murmur about admiring independent women. Any attempt to clarify would crack open the marriage question and Raoul didn’t see any point in that.
Not that she wanted to marry him. No, they might have found a truce and a crooked understanding with their revelations about their past, but it wasn’t as though he’d magically fallen in love with her. For her part, she was too aware of how easily she could tip back into crazy infatuation with him, making her vulnerable to his dominant personality. He’d broken her heart once already. She couldn’t let him do it again.
“I’ll use the bed in Lucy’s room,” she said.
His sigh rang with male frustration. “The doctor cleared you for more than travel, didn’t he?”
“So I’m supposed to fall into bed with you?” She swung around to glare at him across the foot of the enormous, inviting bed with its plump pillows and slippery satin cover. “I realize you think I slept with you to hide my crime, but sex isn’t that mindless for me. I need feelings on both sides.”
A chill washed over her as her words rang in her ears. Nausea threatened, the kind that came from deep mortification. She was an independent woman, all right, one whose only solace against her obsession with her boss was that he’d never known how deep it went, but she’d just snapped her way into humiliation. Her clothes might as well be on the floor around her ankles, she felt so naked and exposed.
He stood arrested, but the wheels were spinning fast behind his inscrutable stare.
Trying to stay ahead of any conclusions he might draw, she gathered her toothbrush and pajamas from her bag, aware she was shaking but unable to control it.
“Of course, I’m given to self-deception,” she stammered. “And thank God, or we wouldn’t have Lucy, would we? But we both know how we feel about each other now and I make enough fresh mistakes without having to repeat old ones, so...”
She practically ran from the room before locking herself into Lucy’s, where she threw herself facedown on the bed and quietly screamed into a pillow.
CHAPTER NINE
RAOUL HAD GROWN up in New York, but he didn’t care for it. Too many dark memories. The climate didn’t help, always socked in with rain or buried in snow or suffocatingly humid with summer heat. The place forced on him a heavy feeling of a weight inside him that he couldn’t shift.
He was already struggling with that when he paused on his way into a meeting and instructed the receptionist to interrupt him if Sirena called.
“Ms. Abbott? I thought she’d left the company! How is she?” The woman’s warmth and interest were sincere.
His blunt “Fine” was rude. And a lie. He’d left the house before he’d seen her this morning, but he knew from the way Sirena had blanched last night that she was not fine. He almost suspected she was injured in a way he hadn’t considered.
Brooding while he half listened to his engineers develop a workback schedule, he did some math. He hadn’t added everything together since their talk over drinks that night by the pool because he’d been distracted by other revelations, but if it was true she hadn’t dated after that boy in college, she’d had exactly one lover since her first, ill-fated relationship.
Him.
...sex isn’t that mindless for me. I need feelings on both sides.
The way she’d practically grabbed the voice bubble from the air and gobbled it back indicated pretty clearly that she’d never meant to admit that to him. Which made it disturbingly sincere.
Of course, I’m given to self-deception, she’d added to cover up, but that only made him grind his teeth, wondering if he was as well. Despite her motives for stealing unfolding into a picture of a woman who hadn’t believed he’d help if she asked, he’d never wavered from believing she’d slept with him to cover up what she’d done.
He needed to believe it. Anything else was too uncomfortable. He wasn’t a womanizer. He didn’t take advantage of the vulnerable. He didn’t lead women on.
She hadn’t expected one hookup to be a marriage proposal, she’d said, but had expected to be treated with respect.
At the time of their affair, he’d been way past respect into genuine liking. Affection. Something deeper he’d never contemplated letting himself feel.
God, when he thought back to how those twenty-four hours had gone, it was like another lifetime. The sweetness of her, the relief of finally giving in to touching her, the powerful release that had shaken him to the core...
The doors opening inside him, a sensation like footsteps invading the well-guarded depths of his soul. Even as their damp, half-clothed bodies had been trembling in ecstasy, he’d crashed back to the reality of what they’d just done. Whom he’d done it with. How vulnerable he felt.
His inner panels had lit up with alarm signals. While Sirena’s plump lips had grazed his throat, he’d been withdrawing, deeply aware of a sense of jeopardy. His father hadn’t killed himself because he’d fallen for his secretary. He’d killed himself because he’d fallen. In love. Deep emotions drove men to desperate acts.
What he’d felt for Sirena in those loaded minutes of sensual closeness had scared the hell out of him.
He’d pulled away, said something about the rain having stopped. By the time he’d dropped her at her building and returned to his own, he’d been primed for a reason, any reason, to knock her so far away from him she’d never reach him again.
And he had.
...Even my stepmother didn’t go that far to hurt me.
Rather than killing himself, he’d destroyed what had been growing between them.
It was a sickening, horrid vision of himself. He lurched to his feet, needing to escape his own pathetic weakness, but only drew the attention of the room.
“Problem, sir?” The group stood back to look between him and the Smart Board where the schedule could have been written in Sanskrit for all the sense it made.
“I have to make a call,” he lied, and strode through the maze of cubicles clattering with keyboard strikes into his office. It contained two desks, one that was a bold, masculine statement and the other a stylish work space that, for a time, had been the first place he glanced. Now it stood as a monument to his colossal overreaction.
He rubbed his face, hating to feel this tortured, this guilty. The fact remained, she had stolen from him, he reminded himself.
But he hadn’t lashed out at her for that. She’d angered him, yes, but her real crime had been moving him in the first place. Sirena had dared to penetrate walls nobody else had dared breach.
Lust isn’t caring.
No, it wasn’t, but what he felt wasn’t mere lust.
* * *
Sirena was grateful that Raoul had left for the office before she rose. Of course, she was also hypocrite enough to miss him despite her chagrin over her revelation last night. There was also envy and disgruntlement that he still worked in one of the many dynamic, ever-changing offices she had loved so much. Who had taken her place? She hated her usurper on principle.
Chatting with Beatrisa, hearing stories of Raoul’s childhood became a nice distraction from her muddled emotions.
When he returned unexpectedly at lunch, it was with a surprise: tickets to a matinee. “Musicals aren’t my speed. I’ll stay with Lucy. You ladies have fun.”
It was an incredible treat, the sort of thing Sirena used to wish for every time they visited New York, but had never found time or funds for. Afterward they had tea and scones in a glitzy café until Raoul texted that his daughter had inherited his stubborn streak.
Giggling over his self-deprecating assessment, they rushed back so Sirena could feed their starving baby. Full of excitement about their afternoon, she was disappointed when Raoul said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Start dinner without me. I have a call to make.”
When he found his way to the table, he was wearing his cloak of remoteness. His mother didn’t pick up the signals of his distraction, but Sirena did. While Beatrisa talked about their day, the feeling of being left out of his world struck Sirena afresh, but she supposed his turning aloof was better than another clash like last night’s.
As Beatrisa wound down over coffee, Raoul finally said, “I’m afraid we’ve had a change of plans, Mother. We won’t be able to stay the week. The company has been nominated for an award in L.A. I have to fly out to pick it up.”
“You hate those things!” Sirena blurted. It had always been her job to figure out who could show up in his place, make the arrangements and prepare a speech.
“Surely you could do that without dragging Sirena and the baby across the country? They can stay here with me,” his mother said.
Sirena shrugged. Lucy was out of sorts enough with the time change from London. She didn’t need another one.
Raoul only gave his coffee cup a quarter turn and said, “They’ve specifically asked if Sirena would attend. It’s that bunch we worked with for the special-effects software,” he told her. “You always made an impression with my associates. You’ve been sorely missed by a lot of them.”
Sirena flushed hot and cold, not sure how to respond. She missed everything about her job, but she couldn’t go back to it, so she tried not to think of it.
As she considered all those beautiful women he’d taken to galas and cocktail parties, she also felt too inadequate to be his date. “I never attended that sort of thing with you before—” she started to dismiss.
“Things are different now, aren’t they?”
How? She lifted a swift glance and collided with his unrelenting stare, like he was pushing his will upon her. She instinctively bristled while the fault line in her chest gaped and widened. “There’s no one to watch Lucy.”
“Miranda’s agreed to fly in and sit with her.”
“You want to fly your stepsister to L.A. to babysit?” It was ludicrous—and the way he briefly glanced away, as though he wasn’t being honest with her, put her on guard.
“She flies all the time doing those trade shows. We’ll need to leave early, but we’ll come back here for a day or two on our way back to London.” He rose, putting an end to the discussion in a completely familiar way.
Old habits of accommodating his needs collided with the newer ones of taking care of her baby’s needs and her own. “Raoul.”
“This is important to me, Sirena. Please don’t argue.”
Wow. Had he just said please? Shock struck her dumb long enough he was able to escape without her raising another argument.
* * *
By morning, it was too late. When he said early, he meant early, coming into her room to begin packing Lucy’s things while shooing Sirena’s sleepy head into the shower. Being naked and knowing he was just beyond the door made her senses flare, but he was completely indifferent. They were on the plane within the hour.
Lucy didn’t enjoy the altitude climb, so they were well in the air before Sirena caught her breath. She gratefully embraced a cup of coffee while Raoul swept and tapped his way across a tablet screen.
“I liked that crew from the film, too, but I can’t believe you shook us out of bed for them. What’s really going on?” she asked.
“Use the stateroom if you want more sleep.” He didn’t even look up.
“No, I’ve had coffee now. You’ll have to entertain me,” she volleyed back.
His gaze came up with pupils so big his eyes were almost black. After a checking glance to their sleeping infant, he swung a loaded “Okay” to her.
In a blink, he’d transformed from the distracted man intent on his work that she’d seen a million times to a predatory male thinking of nothing but sex.
Her skin tightened and a flush of excitement flooded her with heat. Most betraying of all, tingles pooled in a swirl of sharp desire deep between her thighs.
His tense mouth eased into a smile of approval while he took a slow visual tour to her breasts, where her nipples stung with need. He didn’t move, but suddenly he felt very close. He knew exactly what was happening to her.
She yanked her gaze away, but the picture of his masculine beauty stayed with her. The man had a chest to absolutely die for and she ached to see it again, run her hands over his smooth shoulders and taut abs.
Embarrassed by her shortened breath and prickling arousal, she swallowed and said a strangled, “I think we’ve covered that. It’s not on.”
Silence. And when she risked a glance at him, his jaw was clenched.
“Because you think I don’t have feelings for you,” he growled.
“I don’t expect you to,” she stated stiffly, then had to dip her face to stare into her empty mug, hiding that she was going red with indignity. “Obviously you’ve been very decent, taking me in when I was sick, but that was more to do with Lucy, wasn’t it? And yesterday was nice, but it was a treat for your mother. Shows like that aren’t your thing, you said. So you sent me, which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it, just that I realize it wasn’t about me.”
“You have a stellar opinion of me and my motives, don’t you?”
“I’m not trying to insult you.”
“You’re doing a helluva job of it anyway. Let’s hope this trip redeems me in your eyes.” He went back to his tablet, shutting her out, which was probably a good thing.
He’d disconcerted her, sounding almost injured. A tiny worm of ambiguity niggled in her. Was she working so hard to protect herself she was failing to see the softer feelings she’d once been convinced were there? Or was that delusion a short trip to another painful tumble?
Despite the caffeine in her system, she wound up dozing and before she knew it, they were in California. They didn’t stay in the suite they’d used two years ago, when he’d been working with the special-effects company. This was a new, ultrachic building designed on a curve, like a giant glass-and-bronze half cylinder with its back to the ocean.
Inside the penthouse, the floor-to-ceiling windows were framed in gray-and-white geometric squares. The tiles and carpet marked severe paths through the open plan of lounge, kitchen and dining area. All of the furniture was angular and modern, but luxury softened the hard edges. Jewel-colored pillows and billowy curtains gave it a sexy, romantic feel and the stunning three-sixty views to mountains and ocean and cityscape were breathtaking. Sirena’s first thought was of the bath she’d take after dark, surrounded by the twinkling lights of the city.
As was her habit, she ran a brisk inventory as she explored, ensuring all the standard arrangements for Raoul were made.
“No Chivas and no cord for the secure internet connection.” She adjusted the drapes in the main room to let in more of the brilliant sunshine and view of the ocean. “I’ll call down. Did you want extra of that rain forest coffee you like to take home?”
He didn’t answer, so she turned to see him watching her with a bemused expression. “I would love that, thank you.”
His appreciation poured sunlight directly into her soul. A huge smile tried to take over her face and she had to turn away to hide how easily he flipped her inside out. What the hell was she doing? No way was she begging for a shred of affection. She needed to nip this craziness in the bud.
Fortunately their daughter woke and demanded attention, then a stylist showed up with a measuring tape and color swatches.
“What? Why?” Sirena argued as Raoul took the baby so she could lift her arms.