Billionaire Bachelors: Stone

by Anne Marie Winston

  She loved him so much. He still couldn’t let himself see that they were perfect for each other. He’d led her to believe it was because of their age difference but the truth was, Stone was terrified of intimacy. Not physical intimacy, but emotional closeness. She knew he’d had scores of lovers in the past, but she was certain none of them knew him the way she did, knew his secret need for a stable home, the sorrow and resentment that threatened to permanently damage his relationship with his mother, the unacknowledged wish for a family of his own.

  A family. A baby. How amazing that she hadn’t even been thinking much about that kind of future until he’d introduced the possibility. She’d always thought of herself as a good girl. Going to her marriage bed a virgin was simply a given. But it shook her a little to realize that it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been married to Stone or not. If he’d ever tried to seduce her, he would have had her anytime he’d wanted. And it scared her more than a little that she hadn’t even thought about protection once she was in his arms.

  His grim panic from the night before shot into her mind. The very fact that he hadn’t even thought of birth control had shocked him beyond belief. She hadn’t thought of it, either, but then again, she wasn’t worried about a pregnancy. Had she subconsciously expected him to take care of it? Or had she simply not cared because she knew she wanted his child? Regardless of the reasons for her memory’s short-circuits, she’d known the moment he’d said it that very little could make her happier than to bear Stone’s baby.

  She was married to the man she loved and she knew instinctively that a child would change their lives forever. Stone would never let his child grow up in a broken home. If she did become pregnant, they’d stay married.

  And then she’d have much more than a year to show him that he loved her, too.

  But she had no desire to trap him in any way. She’d never imagined a man could be so scared by a few little words, she thought tenderly. Though she hadn’t expected him to respond in kind, it had still hurt a little that he had so easily dismissed her feelings. Obviously he had never considered love to be a part of their relationship. She could only be patient now, and hope that her confession would get him thinking about love, about her, about making their marriage a forever one.

  A surge of love so strong it shook her moved through her. Slowly she reached back with her left hand and let it rest on his hip, gently running her thumb back and forth across his warm flesh, simply needing to touch him. After a moment, his even breathing changed. So did something else, she discovered with pleasure, wriggling her bottom back against him a little more.

  “Good morning.” His voice in her ear was deep and sleep-roughened. The hand at her hip slid up to cup her breast, plucking lightly at her nipple until it contracted into a small, hardened point that sent streamers of arousal down into her abdomen.

  “Good morning,” she returned. “Welcome home.”

  “I thought you already did that.”

  She giggled. Then all coherent thought fled as he leaned over her and caught her mouth in a deep, sweet kiss. When she had to breathe or die, he lay back again behind her. For an instant he rolled away, and she heard the sound of a foil packet tearing, then heard him quickly fitting himself with protection. He’d insisted on using protection the second time last night, too, though she’d told him he didn’t have to. He’d gone still for a moment, then simply sighed, shaken his head and kissed her.

  In a moment, he was back. His hand slid down over her body to her thighs and he urged her top leg up, draping it over his as he angled himself into the hot, tight crevice he’d made. She felt the column of blunt male flesh prodding at her and he lifted her leg a little higher, until suddenly, he flexed his hips and slid smoothly into her. She moaned, impaled on pleasure, and slipped her hand back to his taut, lean buttocks to pull him even closer, even deeper.

  “Are you sore?” He stopped abruptly. “I didn’t even think—”

  “I’m fine,” she said, shifting her hips and stroking the smooth, hot length of him, “now.”

  Stone nuzzled her hair aside and kissed the joining of her shoulder and her neck. He flattened his hand on her lower stomach, holding her steady as he moved against her. And again, she welcomed him home.

  Afterward, he rolled to his back. She pulled the sheet over her, not comfortable enough with nudity yet to ignore her own modesty, watching as he disposed of their protection.

  “I meant it, you know,” she said quietly as his gaze met hers.

  “Which ‘it’ are you referring to?” he asked cautiously.

  “Everything,” she said honestly. “I do love you. And if a baby is a result of this—” she indicated them “—I would be thrilled.”

  “What about school?” His voice was challenging. “Starting your own business? Or is that all just so much talk?”

  “Of course not.” She refused to let him pick a fight over this, though she suspected he would feel better if he were able to make her angry. “Having a family and a career don’t have to be mutually exclusive.” The moment the words left her mouth, she realized that to Stone, who had been the victim of a marriage in which that very thing had indeed been an issue, the two goals were in direct conflict with one another.

  “Are you kidding?” He sat up abruptly and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “Women can comfort themselves with that ‘I can do it all’ mantra as much as they want. But the reality is that something suffers when they try to juggle too many balls.” He slapped an angry hand down on the bed between them. “I have no intention of bringing children into this world to be tossed to whichever parent isn’t as busy at the moment. In fact, I never plan to have children at all!”

  Faith stared at him, shocked by the declaration. She understood that he felt he’d been the casualty of his mother’s determination to have a career but she’d never imagined he would let it affect him to such an extent. If only she could get him to walk in his mother’s shoes long enough to realize it hadn’t been the simple, power-hungry decision he assumed it had been. Her heart ached for him as she understood exactly what his parents’ differing points of view could cost him.

  Could cost them both.

  Slowly, seeing that insistence would only make him more intractable, she said, “I apologize for not understanding how you feel. We have plenty of time to think about children—” unless he threw her out when her year was up “—and I certainly would never try to talk you into doing something you don’t want.”

  There was a long, tense silence.

  Finally Stone heaved a huge sigh. He turned toward her, not away, and she knew an overwhelming relief as he took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you. We never talked about children because I didn’t think it would ever be an issue. Hopefully it still won’t be.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Can we just enjoy this for now?”

  “Of course,” she murmured. She tilted her face up to his and kissed him sweetly, deeply, without reserve. With any luck at all, each day that passed would bring them a little closer, and he would see what a long life together could be like. And how very special it would be to add a child born of their love to their family.

  After a final kiss, he rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. She rolled over to watch him walk away, admiring the way his wide shoulders tapered down to a lean waist, the way the muscles in his buttocks flexed as he walked, the strong, well-shaped columns of his legs. As he disappeared, her gaze fell on the clock beside the bed.

  “Oh, no!” She suddenly realized it was Thursday, one of the days she’d set up to work for Smythe Corp. And she was going to be late if she didn’t hurry. She bolted from the bed and headed for the door that connected their bedrooms.

  Stone came out of the bathroom and followed her, unselfconsciously naked. She wrapped her robe around her then rushed to her dresser for fresh undergarments and panty hose, wishing she could be as blasé about her nudity.

  �
�What’s the rush?” He rested a shoulder against the doorway of her closet as she picked out a sedate gray-charcoal suit. “Do you have plans this morning?”

  “I, um, yes.” She skirted him and started for her bathroom, but he caught her by the waist and dragged her back against him.

  “Can they wait?” He dropped his head and trailed a line of kisses down her neck, and she shivered as his hot breath blasted her sensitive nerve endings. “I thought we could take a bath together and then have breakfast.”

  She swallowed, tempted by his words, and her body heated at the image of the two of them in the big Jacuzzi tub in his bathroom. “I—can I take a rain check?” She cleared her throat. “I really do have some place I need to be. And don’t you want to get back to your office?” Instinct warned her that explaining she was working for his mother probably wasn’t the wisest course of action she could take.

  “I’ve been in touch by phone, fax and e-mail,” he said. “I hadn’t planned on going in early today after traveling for all those hours. Where are you going?”

  There was no help for it. She took a deep breath. “I have a temporary job.”

  His brows snapped together. After a moment, he said, “I thought you wanted to be able to spend time with your mother?”

  “It’s only a part-time thing,” she said. “And it hasn’t interfered with my time with Mama. She rests a lot.”

  “Where are you working? I’m surprised you were able to find anything suitable.”

  He meant that didn’t expose her to the public, she knew. She took a deep breath. The thought of lying to him flitted across her mind and was rejected in the same instant. “Your mother offered me a position straightening out some records that were left in a mess by a departing employee.”

  “My mother?” His expression grew even more forbidding.

  She swallowed. “The day we had lunch she asked me to consider it…”

  “Why the hell didn’t you say no?”

  She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Because I was bored. I wanted something to do, some kind of work and you wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “You have things to do,” he roared.

  She’d never thought of herself as a temperamental person but the unfairness of his expectations refused to let her quail before his displeasure. “No,” she said stonily. “I don’t. The den is redecorated, the thank-yous are written and sent. I still have time to take on any other little projects you throw my way, but two days a week, I will be working at Smythe Corp.”

  Stone eyed her expression, apparently deciding he was going nowhere fast. “Fine,” he said angrily. “Have a great time.” He stalked back to his own room, closing the door between them with a definite snap and she winced, holding back tears.

  She’d known he was going to be unhappy about her new job but she hadn’t really thought he’d react quite so…strongly. Did it bother him because she would be in steady contact with his mother or because he simply didn’t like not being able to control her every move?

  Eight

  He’d been an ass.

  A horse’s ass. A big horse’s ass. Stone stared moodily out the window of his office at the gray Manhattan day. It was raining. He’d really been looking forward to some sunshine this morning, but when he’d stepped out the door to start the jogging that he tried to fit in four or five times a week, he’d been soaked to the skin in less than a minute. The only good thing about it was that Central Park had been nearly deserted, except for a few other hardy exercising idiots like himself.

  God, what had he been thinking, to lay into Faith like that?

  He hadn’t been, he supposed. He was still jetlagged from the unbearably long flights home. And he certainly hadn’t gotten what he could call a full night’s sleep last night.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Last night.

  The mere thought of it was enough to make him start to sweat. He’d woken with her in his arms and as his body had reacted to the sweet, soft lure of hers, he’d acknowledged what he’d been avoiding for days: he enjoyed having Faith in his life. He wanted to make this a real marriage, at least for the time they had left. He’d tried to stay away from her, but fate and Faith had tempted him until he couldn’t resist anymore.

  He couldn’t quite remember why he’d thought it was such a bad idea. There was no reason they couldn’t have a physical relationship while they were married. Unless, perhaps, he counted the fact that she might never speak to him again after the way he’d stormed off.

  One thing that was certain—perhaps the only thing—was that he owed Faith an apology. He might not like her working for his mother, he might even—if he admitted the truth—feel betrayed in a small way, but he didn’t own her. They had an agreement to which she was living up and anything she did that didn’t jeopardize that was none of his business.

  He didn’t like the way that thought made him feel. He wanted it to be his business, dammit! He wanted her to be his wife in every way there was. He didn’t just want her hostess skills or even her wonderfully responsive young body. He wanted her mind, her emotions, her commitment.

  He shoved himself from his chair with an explosive curse. Oh, hell. Oh, no. Oh, hell, no. He was not going to fall into her trap.

  Faith had made sure he knew how she felt—that she wanted to make their marriage a reality in every way. And the knowing was powerfully seductive, the future calling to him with almost irresistible force. But long-term commitments were for other people. He wasn’t dumb enough to believe he’d feel like this about Faith forever. Sure, he had friends who appeared to have happy marriages. But he also had friends whose marriages had wrecked them emotionally and financially, and even, in the case of one buddy whose wife had shot him for sleeping around on her, physically. His own parents, with all their money and resources, hadn’t made it work.

  He knew better than to believe in happy endings.

  Still, she had said she loved him. And maybe she did. But his cynical side, the side that was doing its level best to preserve him from stupid, ill-conceived ideas born of passion, that side of him said, Gee, the timing surely is convenient.

  Her mother was getting worse. He’d given Naomi Harrell a home, kept her companion, offered to provide her with more care. Faith cared deeply for her mother and would naturally appreciate his support. But would she tell him she loved him simply because of that?

  She might if she were worried about what was going to happen once you cut her loose. She might if she wanted to ensure that you kept the funds flowing.

  No way. His mind rejected the ugly notion. Faith had integrity and honor enough for two people. She’d been determined to secure care for her mother through other efforts before they’d married. She wouldn’t stoop to the easy solution.

  Would she?

  Of course not. She was as aware of the terms of their marriage as he was. But damned if he was happy with them. When he tried to imagine what would happen next March, he failed utterly. He couldn’t see himself without Faith. He couldn’t see his home without her quiet influence or even, ridiculous as it seemed, her relatives. Before Faith had come, his elegant, upscale town house had been little more than an address to identify him. Sure, it had come to him from his father. But frankly, his memories of growing up in this house were less than stellar. It was a mausoleum. Or at least, it had been.

  Now it was a home. When he came to breakfast, Clarice had brought the paper in for him already. Faith almost always saw him off, holding his coat and waving him out the door. When he came home in the evening, Faith and Naomi often were in the den, ensconced by the fireplace playing a board game. Sometimes Faith read to her mother, since Naomi’s eyesight was deteriorating to the point that she was becoming unable to read. He had a wonderful new chair in the den, too, one that Faith had picked out herself.

  And last night, he’d had just about the best night of his life.

  So why was he still planning on getting rid of his wife at th
e end of a year?

  He didn’t know. And thinking about it was giving him a royal headache. What he really ought to be thinking about was how to get back in Faith’s good graces. And if he were smart, he’d be thinking about what he could do to keep her so busy she wouldn’t have time to go hunting for work, for his mother or anyone.

  And then he had an idea.

  She hadn’t had the best day of her life. Though the assignment Eliza had given her was indeed a challenge, Faith’s mind had drifted continually, rehashing the angry exchange with Stone that morning.

  It just wasn’t fair. Last night, he’d made her happier than she’d ever thought she could be. Then this morning, her happiness was ripped away with the angry words he’d thrown at her.

  Faith sighed as she walked briskly from the subway station to the town house. Love was supposed to make people happy, not miserable.

  When she came through the door, she was struck by the same feeling she always got when she entered her home…it was cozy, despite its size, and welcoming, despite her husband’s anger. It had truly become home. Leaving it was going to be one of the hardest things she’d—

  An odd scrabbling sound behind her startled her as she hung her coat over a hook on the coat rack. She whirled. A small furry creature was barreling toward her, skidding and slipping on the smooth polished hardwood floor.