A frisson of danger sparked in the stormy atmosphere.
But then he almost smiled. ‘I don’t want to argue with you.’
‘No?’ She couldn’t take her gaze off him. ‘You just want everything your own way.’ She stood up from the stool. ‘I’m not marrying you. Ever.’
‘Why not give us a chance?’ He too stood and walked around the counter.
‘There is no us,’ she muttered. ‘There’s just a...situation.’
‘But there could be.’ He advanced closer and the glint in his eyes froze her. ‘You’re the one not thinking creatively now.’
She couldn’t think at all any more. Not when he was this near, this intense, this determined.
‘Why can’t we make it what we want?’ he asked softly.
Want?
Rosanna couldn’t breathe. There was lightning now—fully charged attraction that was impossible to deny yet too much to bear. All because he’d come to stand right before her. Of all the people in the world, why did her body want him? A man who was bossy and authoritative and serious? Why this unemotional, ruthless, unforgiving man? Yet she’d just sparked to life.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he growled.
‘Like what?’ she snapped back at him.
‘I’m angry too,’ he muttered. ‘I’m frustrated as hell.’
Some long-secret part of her had taken control of her limbs. She didn’t step back when he stepped closer. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t resist. Because the balm of having her body against his? She practically melded against him. It was like that night—when one touch had been all it had taken. His arms clamped more tightly at her wordless response. She couldn’t stop staring. His mouth was in a grim pose yet perfect in its fullness. There was the slightest hint of stubble on his sculpted jaw. The angles and planes of him were honed and hard, yet there was a silken quality to his skin. That sizzling ache within soared.
He released a low groan and smashed his mouth over hers. It was the most appalling relief. She was flung into that furnace of molten want. The horrors of the afternoon were blasted away.
This was how to feel better. This was the only way to forget everything. She trembled against him, satisfied only when he pressed her hips against the heat of his. Finally feeling that rigid arousal again, she moaned. It was madness.
‘Say yes,’ he breathed.
It was such a hot whisper. But she realised it was seduction. Calculated. The one way he could get her to capitulate. Not just to say yes, but to beg him to do as he wished. Which meant it wasn’t as uncontrolled as it was for her. And it would only be a matter of time before he lost interest. And that would hurt her.
‘No,’ she muttered back.
It was barely audible even to herself but he heard. He lifted his head and gazed down at her.
‘Why not?’ There was a gleaming darkness in his eyes now. A possessive wilfulness. He wanted her to surrender to this.
‘It would be a mistake.’
‘It’s what we both want. I can taste your hunger, Rosanna. And I know you can feel mine.’
His bluntness was shockingly arousing and she was unable to deny the liquefying heat he aroused within her. She was so close to surrendering to what she wanted.
‘No.’
He immediately loosened his hold before pausing briefly to support her while she recovered her balance. She was mortified that he felt her trembling—that her body gave her away even when her words did not. But he respected her words. He didn’t challenge the rejection as a lie. But there was an edge in his expression that made her wonder if she weren’t in more trouble now than if she’d given way moments before. Because there was no denying the truth any more. There was only stopping herself from acting on it.
CHAPTER NINE
ROSANNA DREAMT SHE was trying to stop a waterfall with nothing more than a sieve...and there was an inevitability about her own drowning. Twins.
Her eyes flashed open. It felt impossible to do alone and she had no other support she could count on, which meant negotiating some kind of arrangement with Leo. A lifestyle that she could live with. That was not marriage, nor was it an affair.
She’d gone to her room immediately after that kiss last night. He hadn’t stopped her—as if he too had needed respite from the tension. But she was sure his frustration was mostly concern for the future, whereas hers was complicated by the lust overtaking her every time she so much as looked at him. She couldn’t marry him. Instinctively she knew the magnetism drawing her to him would hurt her eventually. She needed space to settle them into a platonic arrangement. Something peaceful, calm, unemotional. That would be best for everyone.
She dressed in loose jeans and T-shirt then opened the door that led directly from her bedroom out onto the terrace to appreciate the gorgeous morning sky. With the door open she could now hear splashing and couldn’t resist investigating. Leo was swimming in that small pool. It should’ve been impossible given the size, but there was some kind of machine humming. He must have seen her because he suddenly flipped to swim onto his back.
‘I can set the resistance,’ he explained. ‘I can make it harder or easier, depending on what I need.’
Clever.
‘So you’re swimming to nowhere?’ She tried not to stare at the bronze skin and flexing muscles on show and opted to tease him instead. ‘Expending all that energy only to stay in the one place?’
It sounded hellish frustrating but no wonder he had that broad-shouldered physique.
‘It’s a good challenge,’ he said.
‘Yet so unrewarding. Never getting anywhere.’
‘It’s not about the destination though, is it?’ He waded to the edge. ‘It’s about the process. The benefits of the journey.’
It just sounded exhausting to her. She’d constantly striven to prove herself to her parents, to her teachers, to her bosses...and ultimately her process, her attempted journey to acceptance, had failed. But Leo Castle wasn’t a failure. He was the ultimate achiever.
He pulled out of the water and she couldn’t stop staring. She’d not seen him fully naked that night. It had been dark and they’d both remained partially clothed. Now, in the brilliance of the early morning sunshine, he was all smooth skin and rippling muscles that gleamed with the promise of heat and silken pleasure.
‘Do you feel better for a good night’s sleep?’ he asked.
What sleep?
Glancing up, she read heated amusement in his eyes. And heard the tone of arrogance.
‘I feel marvellous,’ she lied. ‘What about you?’
‘Oh, yes. Fully refreshed and ready for round two of the marriage debate.’
Did he have a knock-out move planned? Rosanna had to dig in for the long haul.
‘But breakfast first, hmm?’
That chef from downstairs must’ve stopped in again because the outdoor table was laden with delicious options—creamy yoghurt, cereal, fresh fruit and still-warm pastries. Rosanna sank onto a seat, unable to resist.
But Leo’s phone chimed three seconds after he joined her there. ‘Excuse me, I need to answer this.’
She listened as he walked inside. His voice was low and reasoned—problem-solving, answering questions. Apparently the marriage argument wasn’t his priority. That was good. Rosanna could appreciate the warmth of the sun and that stunning view across the harbour and the frankly amazing apple pastries.
Ten minutes later he returned. Her resting pulse rate picked up again even though he’d put on a T-shirt. She had to get a grip. But he’d barely sat back down before his phone rang again. As he walked around the terrace she could hear him instructing some poor soul to write up a report and have it to him within the hour. It was early Saturday morning and he was working—almost every minute of it so far.
Fifteen minutes later she carried her used dish to the kitchen, passing
through that lounge where the computers were running, their screens filled with data and graphs and scrolling tickers along the bottom. He was now seated at one of the large desks. He controlled not one, but two large companies, which meant he had a lot on his mind. Work was his passion and that was fair enough. But the impact on children? She knew too well how it felt to be low down on the priority list.
Deep in thought, she went back to her room and freshened up. When she re-emerged over an hour later, he still hadn’t moved.
‘Still working?’ she asked as he typed something out onto one of the three computers.
He glanced up for a second. ‘Why does that sound like a loaded question?’
‘My parents are workaholics. So I know it’s not fun for kids.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting to do a good job.’
‘No. But balance is important.’
He sat back, a small hint of amusement in his eyes. ‘Will this be your next reason to refuse me? I’m too committed to my business?’
As a child she’d been basically abandoned for business so her concern wasn’t as petty as he made it sound. She knew how it felt not to have someone who took the time to listen. Who was always preoccupied and too busy at ‘more important’ appointments to bother turning up to her school events.
‘I don’t care about your business. If that’s your priority in life, that’s fine,’ she said. ‘My priority is now my children. And I’m not going to let them suffer by having an absent, workaholic father, where everything they do is dictated and determined by how best it is for the business, around your schedule.’
He inhaled sharply. ‘But the business is what pays for the food, the roof over their heads.’
‘Oh, please,’ she sighed. ‘You could retire this instant and have enough money to live on for a hundred lifetimes.’
He blinked. ‘A lot of people depend on me for their work.’
‘Because only you can be the boss?’ She shook her head. ‘Maybe you should hire more people and free up your own time.’
‘I’m good at what I do, Rosanna,’ he said softly.
Oh, she knew that.
‘But isn’t it awfully arrogant to assume that no one else could possibly do your job as well as you can?’ she asked innocently.
‘Not arrogant,’ he denied. ‘Nobody cares about it to the same extent that I do.’
‘Again,’ she challenged, ‘isn’t it arrogant to assume no one else could feel things as strongly as you do?’
‘They’ve not invested the blood, sweat and tears that I have. Or the years.’ He leaned back in his seat and surveyed her. ‘It’s about ensuring the right decisions get made.’
‘And only you can make them? You need to approve everything. I bet you’re an absolute micromanager. I feel sorry for your staff.’
‘Oh, there’s no need,’ he said with cool smugness. ‘They’re very happy.’
‘Are they?’
‘Given what I pay them, I’m certain of it.’
All the money for all the hours? For being able to drop everything first thing on a Saturday morning and write up some report for a demanding boss?
‘What style of management do you think they’d prefer?’ He rose out of the chair and strolled towards her.
She was on shaky ground here. ‘Perhaps they might prefer a more collaborative approach. Or be allowed more freedom to work on problem areas themselves before coming to you. Perhaps they’d like more trust put in them.’
‘And you’re a successful manager? Employee? You have a proven track record in such things?’
She stiffened, not wanting to let him know that she’d failed in securing her promotion, yet she felt as if he’d guessed already. ‘I just think that any kind of obsession is unhealthy.’ She dodged his question.
‘Ah.’ He nodded and stopped just inside a safe distance from her. ‘Perhaps. But obsession is how things get achieved.’
Because it was all about achievement?
‘There’s nothing wrong with single-mindedly pursuing your passion,’ he said intensely. ‘Not letting anything or anyone stand in the way of what you want most.’
What did he want most? Was it money and status? Conspicuous success?
Except right now, it felt as if he wanted her. And he was embarked on a single-minded pursuit like a hunter who wouldn’t rest until he’d captured his prey. But it was only because he wanted her to say yes to the rest of the deal. The fine print of for ever. Inking an agreement that wouldn’t do either of them—or their children—any good in the long run. And therefore one that she couldn’t agree to.
‘What happens when you finally attain it?’ she asked. ‘For how long does it keep you happy? How long until you start to think...this isn’t that great. This isn’t enough...what then?’
‘There’s always another challenge. That’s life.’
Right. There would be another woman one day, who would be a challenge for him. And Rosanna wasn’t sure she could stand by and watch that.
‘So you launch from one challenge to the next. Relentless in your pursuit of achievement. Do you know how to relax? Do you ever take holidays?’ She studied him. ‘When was the last holiday you took? Never?’
‘You make it sound awful when really it’s not. I like work. I’m lucky.’
‘Because you’re alone and your single-mindedness isn’t impacting on anyone close to you.’
He stiffened as she continued.
‘I want balance,’ she said. ‘I want my children to have parents whose lives are balanced. Who can be there for them.’
His jaw hardened. ‘And I want to be there, Rosanna. That’s what I’m asking for.’
‘A piece of paper isn’t being there. Can you be there in the right way?’ she persisted. ‘Look at you, you’re glued to your phone. You work every hour there is. It’s Saturday morning and you’re present but not really here.’
He was still for a moment and then he suddenly smiled. ‘You want me to pay more attention to you.’ He put his phone on the table and stepped closer. ‘That’s fine, Rosanna. I can do that.’
She ground her teeth together. Not that kind of attention. This man wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met. He was structured, disciplined, ruthless and relentless and so damn serious. And while part of her respected him for it, he scared her. She needed to know there was more to him than concern for spreadsheets. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
* * *
Leo watched her stalk back to her bedroom. Huffy and beautiful with her fiery hair tousled and emotion staining her cheeks. Of course it was what she’d meant. She wanted him. He wanted her. That part of it at least ought to be straightforward. He’d been frantically trying to focus on anything other than her all morning and he’d failed and he was frankly stunned that he was still struggling to secure her acquiescence to anything. The frustration of trying to talk to her while having his own mind hijacked by the demands of his body was killing him.
He’d been buying time to get his head around the situation by avoiding her this morning—giving her space too. Apparently that had been a mistake. But there was no damn rulebook for how to play this situation. The way his imagination slipped was highly unusual for him. Taking those work calls had actually been respite—a breather to recalibrate. His self-control had never been in doubt before and he hated it. And now she was calling him out on his method of management?
That frustration rose higher. This was everything he’d never wanted—trying to understand someone, to make a relationship work? He’d never wanted to feel responsible for either the fortunes or happiness of anyone else again. Not after he’d failed his mother and lost everything.
But, damn it, he still wanted to pick Rosanna up, as if he were that caveman, and toss her onto the nearest bed and keep her there until she’d agree to his demands. There weren’t many—to let him in,
to let him have her...
It was some primitive instinct rearing, right? A ridiculous one at that.
This was not the time. Even though she’d responded to him last night he knew she was scared. He’d seen the strain in her eyes just before and couldn’t forget her pallor when they’d been in that clinic yesterday. It had been primal instinct pushing him to touch her—to reassure her that it was wonderful. He’d said it was to stop people talking, but really he’d just not been able to help himself. A twin pregnancy was harder, higher risk, wasn’t it? He swiftly searched the Internet for the information he had no idea about. Apparently in early pregnancy she needed rest, good nutrition and little stress. Arguing with him wasn’t going to help anything. So he needed to back off and figure out a better way.
While their physical attraction was about the one thing they seemed to have in common, and he didn’t think either of them were going to be able to resist it for long, last night she’d said no. Even when he’d felt her fiery response to his kiss. Even though she’d been as breathless and as into it as he. He’d swear on his life he wasn’t wrong about that. But that night at the Towers she’d quickly left and never returned. She’d had no interest in learning his name. She’d only wanted to share a brief moment with him... Why? She’d obviously not been playing the ingenue. She’d have said yes to his proposal already if she’d had any sort of cunning plan. Which meant she was as unsophisticated as she appeared in those baggy jeans and tee this morning.
He remembered her blushing shyness, her nervous attempt at small talk, then the suck of her breath as he’d entered her snug body. A high-speed one-night stand didn’t make sense for her. Maybe she was wary because more than the pregnancy was new to her...? Maybe she’d been more than overwhelmed just by their passion. Maybe she’d had less experience in the intimacy of lovers?
A sharp sensation of protectiveness—of possessiveness—speared through him. That couldn’t be right.
But his instincts honed in. He needed to discover the secrets lurking just beneath her beautiful, blushing surface. Was he right? Because it might explain some things...
Nine Months to Claim Her Page 9
