by Неизвестный
actively avoiding him while Suzy and Michael were alive.
So why hadn’t she simply said no?
One word.
No…no…no!
Easy.
But she didn’t say it.
Because of Dylan.
She tilted her head back and studied Connor critically. He was tall. Strong. Deep in her belly, heat
stirred. She suppressed it ruthlessly. She knew he was good at sport. He’d be able to pass those skills on
to Dylan.
Dylan was the only reason she could ever marry Connor….
A glance down at the baby revealed his smooth, round face, untroubled by the demons chasing her. If
she married Connor then Dylan would have a family again. A mother and a father. A world away from
merely living with his guardians.
How could she deprive him of that?
A real family.
But Victoria couldn’t lie to herself. There was another, much more selfish reason to marry Connor. If
she did her place in Dylan’s life would be secure.
She would be able to relax, to stop worrying that he’d get rid of her as soon as Dylan settled down. As
his wife, it would be a lot harder for Connor to evict her from Dylan’s life.
Uncannily, Connor echoed her thoughts: “If we were married we could provide a stable home for
Dylan.”
A shivery awareness filled her. How far did he intend to take this idea of giving Dylan a stable home?
She thought about the frank woman at the zoo. Don’t do what I did. Make sure you have another kid to
keep yours company. Would Connor want to provide Dylan with siblings? Would he expect her to make
love with him? Past experience had proved that he only had to touch her for desire to ignite into burning
heat.
She turned her attention away from the baby and back to the man who’d taken over her thoughts, her
life. “Connor—”
He held up a hand. “Wait. Before you reject the idea, you need to know that I’m committed to this. I
won’t pull out in a year or two and want a divorce.”
She tried to read the expression in his eyes, but the night-light was too dim.
To put a little distance between them she rose to her feet and gently deposited the snoozing Dylan in his
cot. Tugging at the cord that hung near the baby’s cot, she flooded the room with soft light and turned to
face the man who had put her world into uproar.
“How can you possibly be so sure? You might fall in love and want a real marriage.” Would she be any
good at marriage? Her parents had married because she was already on the way. Would marrying for
Dylan’s sake be any different?
“I’m not looking for love.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Let’s just say that Dana forever killed any
desire I had for a ‘real’ marriage.”
Sadness unexpectedly seeped through Victoria. No woman would be able to steal that cold, shriveled
heart. He’d shut himself up behind high, impenetrable walls.
Deeply disappointed for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she found herself shaking her head. “I can’t
marry you.”
He seemed to take root and a stillness overtook his large frame. “You don’t think it would be a good
idea for Dylan?”
What was she supposed to say to that? Tell him about her own parents’ failures? And let him realize
how poor a mother she might be? Definitely not! “Of course, Dylan would benefit.”
“So why not marry me?”
She shifted restlessly. She thought of her father…ever drifting, never home. Of her mother’s
unhappiness. “There’s more to marriage than Dylan.”
His eyes gleamed. “Are you referring to sex?”
Her skin went all tight.
“You don’t want to have sex with me? Is that it?”
Oh, dear God. He’d misunderstood. But sex…
She couldn’t stop staring at him. At the depth of his chest. The large, capable hands. The hard mouth
that could smile so gorgeously. Her skin grew tighter. “No…no, I don’t.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a very nice smile. “May I ask why not?”
Damn him.
She wriggled like a bug on a stick. “Because I don’t make love with every conceited, arrogant jerk who
comes along.”
He shook his head and laughed. “That puts me in my place.”
“And I don’t like you,” she said, seized by a burst of unreasonable anger, “and I’m quite sure you don’t
like me much either.”
“Liking has nothing whatsoever to do with sex, Victoria.” He drawled her name out slowly, deliberately,
making her feel utterly Victorian and positively puritanical.
At the pale-silver gleam in those dangerous eyes she grew itchy, but forced herself to sit unmoving. “I
need to actually like a man to make love with him.”
“So naive. You can’t have liked a great many men then.”
The implication took her breath away. “I’m not a misanthrope—I’m discerning. And it’s only you I’ve
never liked. I’ve made love to enough men to know that I don’t do casual encounters.”
She’d even dated a guy for two years before breaking it off when he’d asked her to marry him. She’d
gotten scared. It would never have worked—not even if she’d been more confident—he’d been
easygoing and fun loving. A tumbleweed. He’d constantly nagged her to relax, to slow down, unable to
understand that she was driven for reasons of her own to make a success of her life. Whatever the cost.
At least that was one thing she had in common with Connor—he’d worked hard to get where he was.
Even though he’d expected her to take extended leave at the drop of a hat.
Shadows flickered in the silvery depths. “There will be nothing casual about our encounter. I can
promise you that.”
She shivered deep inside. “You make it sound dangerous.”
He stalked closer. “We’ve always struck sparks off each other, and this will be no different.” He stared
into her eyes, searching for something she was equally determined never to concede. “It will blow your
world apart.”
It was so tempting.…
“I know there’s no one out there waiting for you. Just say yes, Victoria.”
Too tempting.
And the emptiness would be forever filled by Connor…and Dylan. A family. A chance to have what
Suzy had had. What she’d never dared hope for.
Before she could think better of it, she leaned forward and placed her lips against his.
He froze.
She parted her lips. Lightly, delicately she traced her tongue tip over his mouth. His chest lifted against
her, rising, pressing against breasts that were suddenly tender.
She tasted him, sipped at him, until his breath escaped in short, jerky gasps. His arms came around her,
engulfing her, holding her close. He was hard, all male. The snug fit of his jeans couldn’t hide the
erection that had sprung to life, a rock-like ridge against her lower belly.
He cupped her bottom, pulled her up against him and took her mouth. It was her turn to shudder with
desire. He thrust his tongue deep, and the act of possession sent a primitive thrill through her.
Stroking the inside of her mouth, his tongue searched out the smooth skin inside her cheeks, the highly
sensitized roof-arch.
She groaned, a hoarse, wanting sound.
No longer aware of where they were—barely aware of how long it had been since the kiss began—she
focused on the hunger that
raged between them.
He moved closer, his leg pushing between hers, the harsh fabric of his jeans rough against her skin. But
that was sexy, too.
Until Dylan mumbled in the cot behind her and she leapt away from Connor as if she’d been scalded.
Connor stood rigid. His eyes were wide and, for the first time since the night he’d come to tell her of
Michael’s death, she recognized the emotion in his eyes.
Shock.
Her heart hammering, she balled her hands at her sides to stop them from reaching for him. “See what
you made me do? That was monumentally stupid.”
He swallowed, and she fixed her gaze on his Adam’s apple, watched it bob up and down, avoiding his
too-astute eyes. Hurriedly she added, “You irritated me.” And flicked her gaze up.
Then wished she hadn’t.
White-hot. That’s what his eyes were. Enough to incinerate her.
“I overreacted—and so did you.” Silence. “Don’t you agree?” More silence. “I don’t want to make love
without it meaning anything,” she protested, more to convince herself than him, wishing she wasn’t
having this wretched one-sided conversation with a man she simply didn’t understand.
“I’m not asking you to.” He sounded so reasonable. “I only asked you to marry me.”
Her heart sank. “So you’re proposing a marriage in name only? Absolutely no sex?” She risked a look at
him. His expression was indecipherable.
“Do I understand you correctly?” He drew a deep, audible breath. “If we take sex out of the equation
you’d marry me?”
“Maybe…” It was a croak of sound. But her body was urging more, more, more.
“This is no time for maybe, Victoria. Yes or no?”
They weren’t touching. Yet over the gap that separated them she could feel the heat of his body, the
force of his power.
Victoria started to tremble. She was ready to say anything to stop the sizzle.
“Yes,” she sighed.
Nine
C onnor discovered over the next few days that getting married solely for Dylan’s sake wasn’t what he
wanted. He wasn’t that noble. He wanted more.
She was driving him crazy. Once or twice as she sashayed past he considered yanking her off her feet,
into his lap, and repeating the experiment.
Their no-sex agreement had to be the most idiotic thing he’d ever done. Hell, she was going to wear his
ring. That would brand her his for the world to see. Yet he wouldn’t be allowed to touch. Sooner or later
something was going to have to give—and it would be Victoria. He was quite confident that he would
achieve that. She would come around. He’d see to it because he sure as hell had no intention of sticking
to their stupid pact.
In the meantime, he made up for it by looking. Surreptitiously, carefully and at every opportunity he got.
It was torture.
Several times each day he would call Victoria at work—ostensibly to talk about Dylan. But he found
himself looking forward to those segments of time when her husky voice came over the line, especially
when he managed to get her to laugh.
Lust had turned him into something pathetic.
It was a sign of how entangled he’d become with his new life that, when Iris came into his spacious
corner office with his coffee and announced that she’d heard Dana and Paul were getting married,
Connor felt one brief flare of resentment and then…nothing.
The lack of turmoil and emotion was liberating. He stood staring at Iris until she said, “Connor, are you
okay?”
He gave his assistant an unabashed grin. “I’m better than okay—I’m great.”
She snorted. “Because Dana and Paul are getting married?”
“Yep.” His grin widened. “Makes me feel much better than I thought.”
A wave of relief crashed over him that there was no need for anger, or to exact further revenge. That
phase of his life was over.
What he had now was so much better.
Iris straightened the papers on his desk into a neat pile. “There’s a rumor that Dana’s pregnant.”
Even that didn’t disturb him. He grinned at her over the top of the coffee mug. “I should’ve anticipated
that. Poor Paul.”
“You had a lucky escape.”
“I certainly did.” Setting the mug down on a wooden coaster, he tipped his head sideways and studied
Iris as she slit his correspondence with a letter opener. “You never indicated you didn’t like Dana.”
“Wasn’t my place—you seemed happy enough with her.”
His gaze paused on her pursed mouth. “You’re not the only one. Michael never liked her, either, nor did
Brett.” His brother had been open in his reservations about Dana after their first meeting. Of course,
Dana hadn’t cared for Brett either—she’d been relieved that he lived in London.
There was a scrape as Iris shredded the empty envelopes. “Dana was always good at her job, and she
knew who to impress. But she’d clamber over anyone in her way to get what she wanted.” Iris turned
back to face him.
Leaning back in his executive chair, Connor folded his arms behind his head. “It wasn’t easy for her.
People are always harder on women who are successful in business.” He thought of Victoria. “Even
me.” He couldn’t help wondering what Iris would make of Victoria.
“It had nothing to do with Dana’s successes, just the way she went about achieving them.” Disapproval
came off Iris in waves. “And you shouldn’t be defending her.” With that, she bustled out of his office,
pausing at the doorway to say, “Don’t forget you have a meeting at noon.”
Connor nodded, then swiveled his chair to look out the window at the knot of gum trees that flourished
beside a pond. A pair of ungainly blue-and-black pukekos minced on orange webbed feet along the bank
of the pond, picking for food.
His motherly assistant thought Dana had used him as a way to get what she’d wanted, but to be honest,
he’d used Dana, too. He was starting to realize that what he liked about Dana was that she didn’t affect
him—he could stay heart whole and devoted to work. He didn’t think about her all day long. He hadn’t
felt the same compulsion to talk to her as he did with Victoria. Dana hadn’t been a constant distraction
from his work. Sure, she’d been a very decorative diversion, and of course he’d gotten a kick out the
covetous looks other men had given her. And she could be as feral as a sex-starved mink in bed.
Yet her infidelity still left a bitter taste.
But Michael had hit the nail on the head. It had been his pride—rather than his heart—that had been
bleeding when she’d walked out.
He’d never thought he’d land himself in a similar position.
Yet Victoria was even sexier to him, and her beauty was more subtle but no less captivating…and he
had a suspicion that Victoria could make him never want to go to work again.
And she was even smarter than Dana.
Just look how she’d gotten him to agree to a marriage without sex—only minutes after kissing him
stupid. She’d reduced him to a quivering lump.
Masterly.
And he’d been the fool who’d agreed to it! Even though he was certain he’d be able to convince her
otherwise. Given time.
As the pukekos disappeared into the reeds on the water-line, an inner voice whispered, Dana would
never have done that. She’d
have used sex as another weapon in her arsenal.
But then he couldn’t remember ever wanting, yearning, going mad with desire for Dana in quite the
same way.…
Out of respect for Suzy and Michael it was decided the wedding would be a small one with no frills and
flounces—and definitely no fairy-tale white dress.
The following night after they’d put Dylan to bed Connor came to the small sitting room upstairs that
Victoria had claimed as her own, where he hadn’t invaded until now. He paused at the threshold, and she
watched him survey the changes she’d made to the elegant cream-and-dull-gold décor. The addition of a
wall hanging in muted colors that she’d brought from her town house. A large fern she’d called Audrey,
which was draping enthusiastic fronds over the back of the couch where she sat holding a wineglass.
“I don’t want to disturb you,” he said at last.
Didn’t the man know by now that he always disturbed her? Even wearing only a T-shirt and black jeans
he managed to make her pulse pick up.
Of course she’d never admit it.
“Would you like a glass of burgundy?” she asked, setting her glass down and reaching for a clean one
from the butler’s tray on the side of the couch. “A client gave it to me—and it’s rather good.” Relaxing,
too—which she needed now that the realization she and Connor were actually getting married was
starting to sink in.
Connor looked taken aback for a moment, then nodded. “Just half a glass. I’m not staying long.”
Once she’d poured, he moved farther into the room. Taking the glass from her, he raised it to his nose
before sniffing and saying, “Mmm…nice.” Then he glanced down at her. “I came to ask for a list of
friends and family you’re inviting to the wedding. Iris—my PA—will send out invitations if you give
me details. She’s a whiz.”
“No.”
That caused his eyebrows to leap to his hairline. “Aren’t you a little busy to be doing it yourself?”
“There isn’t anyone I want to invite.” Victoria took a sip of her wine. “Have a taste, it’s very smooth.”
Settling himself against the antique writing desk across from her, he sipped. “Very smooth. No friends at
all?”
She shook her head slowly, supremely conscious of the weight of his stare.
