‘Damon…’ She took a breath to prepare herself. ‘There’s something you should know…’
‘I know all I need to know,’ he said. ‘You still want me. We can never be just friends, Charlotte. There is too much passion between us.’
‘We can’t have a future unless we deal with the past.’
‘The past is in the past, Charlotte. I do not want to revisit it again. I believed you to be guilty of a crime you still say you did not commit. I want to believe you are incapable of lying but I think it best that we leave it at that. It bears no relevance to what is between us now.’
Charlotte felt the crushing weight of her guilt press against her chest. She could hardly breathe for the unbearable load of it. She was deceiving him at this very moment.
‘This is a second chance for us,’ he said. ‘I was wrong to cut off all contact with you. I see that now. It was born out of anger and pride and it served no purpose. I should have listened to your explanation. I owed you that at the very least, but I was too damned proud.’
‘Damon…I don’t know how to tell you this, but—’
‘Do not say you hate me, for I do not believe it,’ he said, interrupting her.
‘No, I don’t hate you, but I…’ She swallowed the rest of her words.
‘I know you are uneasy about us resuming our relationship,’ he said. ‘You were hurt before and no doubt still feel vulnerable, but I will try not to rush you, even though it is killing me.’
She gave him a little smile in spite of her anguish. ‘You only have two speeds, Damon: fast and faster.’
He grinned at her. ‘You know me so well, agape mou, even after all this time.’
‘Excuse me, Mr Latousakis.’ A hotel employee approached them. ‘The meal you requested is now ready in your room.’
‘Thank you,’ Damon said.
Charlotte raised her brows. ‘We’re eating here? At the hotel?’
He took her hand and helped her from the stool. ‘I hope you do not mind. I wanted us to be alone.’
She nervously followed him to the bank of lifts. She had been expecting a public restaurant and a dance floor with other couples, not a private intimate meal in his penthouse suite. Resisting him was going to be a whole lot harder without an audience to restrain her desire to be in his arms again.
He opened the door for her and she stepped in to see fragrant flowers in every corner of the room, candles flickering and a bottle of French champagne sitting in an ice bucket beside the table, which was set for two.
‘You’ve gone to so much trouble…’ She looked around her in amazement. ‘I don’t know what to say…’
He pulled out a chair for her. ‘Come and sit down and we will enjoy the meal the chef has prepared specially.’
Heat coiled in her stomach at the look in his eyes as he took the chair opposite. He was so dangerously sexy when he looked at her like that. She had no defences to withstand the temptation of his smile, let alone his touch.
He served their meal from the dishes set on a trolley beside the table, each movement of his hands reminding her of how those long fingers had known every inch of her body.
She had given herself so freely to him. Her lack of experience had not been an issue; she hadn’t even mentioned it until after they had made love. Her body had felt no discomfort in receiving him the first time; she had felt as if she had been made for him and him alone.
‘You are very quiet,’ Damon remarked once their entrée and main meal was over.
‘Sorry…I was miles away.’
‘I am boring you?’
‘No, of course not…it’s just that…’
He reached for her hand and held it in the warmth of his. ‘Shall we dance?’
‘Dance? Here?’
He pulled her to her feet. ‘You loved to dance, Charlotte, remember? You always moved in my arms as if we were one person.’
She sent her gaze downwards. ‘I haven’t danced in years…’
He flicked the switch on a remote control and the soft strains of a romantic ballad filled the air.
She felt his arms come around her and her feet moved in time with his, her body so close to the warmth of his, she felt her heart begin to increase its pace.
‘See?’ he said, his deep voice a sexy rumble against her breasts. ‘You fit so well against me.’
Charlotte gave herself up to the music and the feel of his body moving in time with hers. It was like stepping back in time, her whole body acting as if the past had not happened. Her arms looped around his neck, which brought her even closer to his growing erection. She felt it harden against her and when she looked up into his eyes she knew there was no way she would be able to resist him, audience or not.
His hands were like hot brands on her hips, his muscled thighs moving against and between hers as they moved together until she was almost mad with the need to feel him fill her. She could feel her body seeping with the sensual silk of womanly desire, her nipples tightening in anticipation of his touch as his hands moved from her hips to settle just below her breasts.
His mouth swooped down and covered hers with a searing kiss of passion, his tongue stroking through the parted curtain of her lips in search of hers. She flicked her tongue against his, tentatively at first and then with increasing confidence as she felt the pulse of his reaction. His mouth was a burning pressure on hers, the movement of his hands as they found her breasts making her gasp with pleasure.
‘You are wearing too many clothes,’ he growled as his fingers found the zip of her dress and slid it downwards.
‘So are you,’ she said and began to undo the buttons of his shirt, lingering to press a hot little kiss as each part of his chest was exposed.
He groaned when she got to his belt and, lifting her, carried her to the bed, joining her in a tangle of limbs and half-discarded clothes.
Charlotte put her hand over his as he reached for her knickers, which only just covered the seam of her scar. ‘Can we turn the lights down?’ she asked.
He frowned. ‘But I want to see you—all of you.’
‘I’m not as slim as I used to be…’
‘You look wonderful to me,’ he said.
‘Please, Damon.’
He reluctantly reached across to dim the lights. ‘All right, but next time I want to see every inch of you.’
Charlotte felt the thrill of his urgent arousal as he came back over to her, his hands tearing at her clothes as she tore at his, their bodies straining to join in the most intimate of all embraces. She ached with the need to feel him inside her, the heavy pulse of desire like the beat of a primitive tribal drum, reverberating throughout her body.
His mouth moved to her breast and sucked hard, the rasp of his tongue making her toes curl and her back arch in response. He moved to her other breast, his hands stroking her belly and moving lower until he found the secret heart of her, his fingers stroking into her slippery warmth until she was writhing with pleasure. She felt her body begin to tingle with the first waves of release but it wasn’t enough. She reached for him, her fingers shaping his turgid length, his agonised gasp inciting her to increase the pressure until he was struggling to contain control.
He grasped at her hand but she pushed him with her free one until he was on his back, his chest rising and falling as she began to move her mouth from the flat taut plane of his abdomen in teasing little wet kisses until she came to the pulsing heat of him.
He groaned again when she licked at his swollen length, her tongue tasting him before she opened her mouth over the satin-covered steel of his body, drawing him in with stroking and rolling movements of her tongue.
‘Enough!’
He pulled her away from him and flipped her on her back, rummaging quickly for a condom and applying it before driving into her with such urgency she cried out in sheer relief that he was finally where she most wanted him. His movements were hard and fast but she was with him all the way, her body rocking against his as it climbed towards the pi
nnacle of release it craved.
‘I am going too fast,’ he said breathlessly against her mouth.
‘You’re not going fast enough.’ She urged him on with her body, rising to meet each forward movement of his.
Suddenly she was there.
Her whole body tightened and then exploded, splintering into a thousand tiny pieces, each one of them shivering with the aftershocks of pleasure.
She felt his explosive release hard on the heels of hers, every muscle in his body tensing before he let go with a deep primal groan. They lay still intimately entwined, basking in the afterglow of deep contentment.
Damon eased himself up on his elbows to look down at her. ‘I had planned to take things slowly but you made it impossible. Your body excites me like no other.’
‘You’re pretty exciting too,’ she said, reaching up to stroke his jaw with her hand.
He captured her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the middle of her palm. ‘Have you had many other lovers since me?’ he asked.
‘Why do you ask?’
His eyes roved her face, lingering on her mouth before returning to her blue gaze. ‘It is selfish and chauvinistic of me, I know, but I was hoping you have not.’
Her expression contained a hint of reproach. ‘I’m sure you haven’t been celibate for the last four years.’
A little frown tugged at his forehead. ‘No…’
‘Have you been in love with anyone?’ she asked, trying to ignore the pain his confession had evoked.
He shook his head. ‘No. I have not allowed myself to feel that way about anyone.’
Charlotte felt hope begin to rise in her chest. Did he still feel something for her?
His eyes gave nothing away as they connected with hers but she could feel his body thickening inside her.
His hands began to explore her breasts, his thumbs reacquainting themselves with the rock-hard pebbles of her nipples, his hot moist mouth moving down to suckle on each of her breasts until her head was spinning and her ears ringing with the pleasure of having his strong arms around her and his lips and tongue playing havoc with her senses all over again.
Damon pulled away from her breast and looked down at her with a quizzical expression. ‘What’s that noise?’ he asked.
‘What noise?’ she asked dizzily, her mind still reeling from his sensual onslaught.
‘It sounds like a mobile phone on vibrate,’ he said.
Charlotte felt her stomach lurch in panic. It was late and the only people who would be calling her at this hour would be either Caroline or Stacey.
‘Um…I’d better answer it.’
He looked at her incredulously, his body pulsing with need inside hers. ‘Now?’
‘It might be my sister,’ she said and eased herself out of his embrace.
She walked on unsteady legs to her evening bag but the phone had stopped vibrating by the time she got to it. She stared at the screen as a message icon appeared. She pressed the key to display the text and her heart came to a stumbling halt when she read what was there.
Emily hurt—but don’t worry—have taken her to the Children’s hospital—C xox
Charlotte hadn’t even noticed that Damon had come to stand beside her until she heard his deep voice ask in a tone that demanded an immediate answer, ‘Who is Emily?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I—I HAVE to go…’ Charlotte almost fell over her feet to get to her clothes, struggling back into them with jerky agitated movements. ‘I have to go now…’
‘Who is Emily?’ Damon asked again, this time restraining her by the arm.
She looked up at him in desperation as she tugged her arm out of his hold. ‘She’s…she’s my daughter; now please let me go—I have to go to the hospital. Oh, God!’ She began to cry as her keys dropped out of her grasp. ‘This is all my fault. I knew something like this would happen. It’s all my fault.’
‘Your daughter?’ Damon stared at her in stupefaction. ‘You have a child? You really have a child?’
She nodded as she scooped up her keys, tears running down her cheeks. ‘I was going to tell you…I just didn’t know how to go about it.’
His frown was so heavy his brows met over his eyes. ‘You agreed to have a relationship with me while you are married with a child?’ He looked at her incredulously. ‘What sort of woman are you?’
She brushed at her eyes and said, ‘I’m not married…’
‘Where is the child’s father?’
She bit her lip. She couldn’t tell him like this. ‘I have to go, Damon. We can talk some other time. Please.’
‘You are in no fit state to drive,’ he said, reaching for his coat. ‘Give me your keys. I will take you.’
‘No, you don’t know your way around the city and I’ll be much quicker on my own.’
He took her arm again and this time there was no hope of escaping. ‘Then we will go by cab, which will be even quicker. You will not have to worry about parking.’
It made good sense to Charlotte, although she knew there would be a price to pay for accepting his help. But she was beyond caring. She had to get to the hospital to see what was wrong with Emily.
Guilt struck at her from every angle. She should never have left her daughter tonight. For days now Emily had seemed unusually clingy, but she’d put it down to her being over-tired. And now her little girl was in hospital, all because of her neglect.
The cab trip was mercifully swift but, although Charlotte did her best to resist any attempts at conversation with Damon, he was not so easily put off.
‘Shouldn’t you be contacting her father?’ he asked.
She huddled herself into the corner of the cab. ‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no? Surely her father should know of this emergency?’
‘He doesn’t even know she exists.’
He stared across at her in the semi-darkness of the cab’s interior. ‘What do you mean, he does not know? Why have you not told him? Surely every man, no matter what the circumstances, has the right to know he has fathered a child.’
She gave him a resigned look, as if the world had finally caught up with all of her frantic attempts to escape from it. ‘Actually, I did tell him but he chose not to believe me.’
Damon felt as if someone had just struck him in the chest with a blunt object. Surely it couldn’t be true?
It wasn’t possible.
A niggling doubt crept into his mind, like a curl of smoke finding its way under a locked door. He had thought she’d been lying to save her pride, but what if he’d got it wrong?
They had used protection, he reminded himself. But the doubt tapped him on the shoulder again as he recalled those last few times before he had sent her away…
His passion for her had been uncontrollable. He had surged into her warmth, relishing the intoxicating experience of feeling her silk against his steely strength without a barrier.
‘I’m her father?’ he croaked.
She answered him with a tiny nod.
‘I do not believe you.’ He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips but there was no way he could take them back. He saw the way they wounded her, the hunch of her shoulders as if protecting herself from further pain, the stiffness of her limbs and the set of her mouth making him realise how hard she was trying to cope.
‘Well, that’s to be expected, of course,’ she said with bitterness sharpening every word to a dagger-point. ‘You have never believed me before, so I don’t expect you to do so now.’
He finally found his voice, although it didn’t really sound like his when he finally spoke. ‘Why did you not tell me?’
Her blue eyes were brimful of resentment. ‘I did tell you, but you refused to accept the possibility that I was carrying your child. You accused me of theft. It was clear from what you said that you thought I was lying to get you to do something you weren’t prepared to do, like give my child a name—your name.’
The cold hard vice of guilt pressed against him. He felt
it in every part of his body. His chest felt so constricted he could hardly breathe and his stomach was churning with a nauseating dread that he had somehow got it wrong.
He had sent her packing with the threat of exposure and immediate deportation. He had been so convinced of her guilt that he hadn’t even bothered to look for another suspect.
But there were no other suspects, he reminded himself, not unless he was prepared to lay the blame at his mother or sister’s feet.
But what if Charlotte had planned this? A few sculptures were nothing compared to this. As revenges went this was surely up there with the best. She had kept his child from him all this time, not once trying to resume contact after those first few times.
‘I have a daughter…’ The words felt strange on his lips, like a language he had never learned to speak but, to his surprise, was now suddenly fluent in it.
‘I called her Emily Alexandrine,’ she said into the taut silence.
He swivelled his tortured gaze back to hers. ‘You gave her the name of my mother?’
Her eyes were still shining with tears. ‘I thought it was the least I could do. Your mother had been so kind to me in offering me a job at the gallery…’
Damon turned away to look at the glittering lights of the highway as the cab made its way to the hospital he could see in the near distance, his throat closing over with pain.
His daughter was within the structures of that concrete and glass building. A daughter he had never realised existed until this moment, a daughter who connected him with Charlotte in the most intimate way possible, the combination of their blood flowing through her tiny veins.
‘How old is she?’ he asked, his voice sounding hollow.
‘She turned three years old three months ago—her birthday is the fifteenth of April.’
Damon closed his eyes against the rush of emotion her words evoked. He had missed out on so much. Her entire babyhood had gone and he hadn’t seen a thing. She would be walking and talking and yet he had never held her as an infant, had never changed her nappy, had never seen her first smile or first tooth or first anything. He could have walked past her on the street and would never have known she was his child.
Bought for Her Baby Page 8
