A Stormy Spring

by MacKenzie, C. C.

  He was holding back. The bastard.

  Her eyes narrowed and she slapped his ass hard.

  He pumped harder and by the time she’d given him extra encouragement he was almost in pieces.

  Hot cries burst from his throat with every shuddering thrust of his big body.

  Becca had never seen anything so beautiful as Lucas in the throws of ecstasy and she was the one taking him shiveringly to the brink. She knew the exact moment he lost control. His balls tightened under her gentle hand as she cupped him and gave a delicate squeeze. Words in rapid Spanish poured from him as he gripped her head and thrust over and over into her willing mouth. The final cry sounded as if torn from his soul as he spilled his seed again and again. She swallowed every single drop. As she licked the last of him, Lucas took great heaving breaths into his lungs before turning burning eyes on her.

  Becca moaned with him still in her hot, wet mouth and the vibration almost finished Lucas.

  He hadn’t seen this coming. That she would destroy him with her soft lips and teeth and tongue and hands.

  Christ, his legs were like water. He was trembling so much after the most unbelievable orgasm of his life.

  For too many years he’d had sex whenever he wanted it, with models, actresses. But having sex with the woman he loved was so different. Fantastic. Incredible. Astounding.

  She closed her eyes, swayed on her knees and found herself being lifted in his arms.

  Lucas didn’t say a single word as he carried her up to their bedroom and laid her gently down on the bed.

  Grinning up into his wonderful face as he leaned over her, Becca stroked his lean cheek.

  ‘Admit it, you liked it.’

  He nuzzled the soft skin under her ear and murmured more words in Spanish before lifting his head and looking deep into her eyes.

  His voice was hoarse, shaky, and she thrilled to the sound.

  ‘You destroyed me and you know it.’

  She fluttered her eyelashes. ‘You trembled like a leaf.’

  Still studying her features, his dark eyes went quizzical.

  ‘I have spawned a monster. I am thinking that you are much happier, querida. More at peace. Am I right?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.’

  ‘Si, and its name was Justin.’

  As she stiffened he cursed, but she caught his face between her hands.

  ‘No, I’m not upset. You’re right. I’ve given up trying to understand why he behaves the way he does. I’m not responsible for his actions. There are more important things to worry about.’

  Those dark eyes held hers. ‘Si, but he hurt you, querida, very badly.’

  She nodded accepting the statement for what it was.

  ‘He did and it’ll take time for me to move past it. But I refuse to let someone who wants to harm me cast a long shadow in my life.’

  ‘Do you not think he deserves retribution?’

  She frowned, her eyes on his.

  ‘I suppose. I’m more concerned with Tabitha Hersheson to be honest. She’s coming to see me tomorrow.’

  Lucas lay back on the pillows and hauled her across his chest to lie on top of him.

  And amused himself by playing with the ribbons of her bustier.

  That deep voice rumbled under her breasts, ‘Who is she?’

  ‘She’s his new partner.’

  His eyes never left her face. ‘Why is she coming to see you?’ he enquired in a silky voice.

  ‘I asked her to come. You said yourself that if he did the same thing to another dancer that I’d never forgive myself.’

  Dark eyes watched her carefully. ‘So you are going to warn her?’

  ‘Don’t forget I have proof. Also I’ve a much better reputation than Justin in the business.’

  He nodded. ‘I will tell Moira to let her in.’

  Becca sat up at that comment. ‘Have you and Moira been screening my callers?’

  He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Not quite.’

  She gave him a lively poke on the shoulder.

  ‘You’re a control freak. I wondered why Sergei was looking shifty. I need company, Lucas. There are only so many books a person can read at a time. The next thing I know you’ll be buying me one of those Kindle ereaders.’

  He refused to meet her eyes. ‘They are a useful device, querida.’

  Becca laughed at the guilty look on his marvellous face.

  ‘You did not! God, if Rick was alive he’d never believe it.’

  She frowned, waiting for the kick in the heart that never came and sighed out a relieved breath.

  Lucas stroked her hair, his dark eyes guarded.

  ‘Did you enjoy being married?’

  Wow, what a strange question.

  She thought about it.

  ‘Yes. Most of the time. It’s a hard thing to describe if you’ve never been in a relationship. It takes work. You wouldn’t understand since you’ve never been married.’

  His brow creased. And he looked at her as if she was talking Greek.

  ‘Si, I was married.’

  First she’d heard of it. And why hadn’t he mentioned it before?

  Bewildered and not a little hurt, Becca blinked.

  Kneeling back on her heels she simply stared at him.

  ‘When?’ she demanded.

  He sat against his pillows and folded his arms.

  ‘A long time ago. We were very young. It was the year I left Harvard and set up the business with Tobin.’

  ‘What happened? When did you divorce and why has nothing been mentioned in the press? You’d think they’d be all over her like a rash.’

  He shook his head as his hand stretched out to touch her hair.

  ‘No, querida. Why would they? Irina died three months after we married.’

  If he’d told her the moon was made of cheese she’d have been less stunned, less shocked.

  Her eyes searched his and she read the honest truth. Good God.

  ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me?’ she whispered.

  ‘There is no way that I could turn your pain, your loss, into a game of comparisons,’ he told her. The simple truth of the statement simply stole her breath.

  And wasn’t that just typical of the man? To put her needs before his own?

  ‘Did you love her?’ And she wondered why her heart felt like a dead weight in her chest.

  Watching her carefully Lucas took a deep breath.

  ‘Si, but as I said we were young.’

  She took his hand and held on tight feeling as if her whole world was tilting on its axis.

  ‘What happened?’ she whispered.

  He squeezed her fingers. ‘Leukaemia, she had been in remission for a number of years. Unfortunately it did not last.’

  Desperately trying to assimilate this new information, seeing a new part of him, Becca’s brain tried to compute. Where was the urban playboy? Where was the man about town? Where was the sex god the tabloids worshipped?

  Her voice was no more than a breath, ‘You married her knowing she might die?’

  He shook his head and brought her fingers to his mouth.

  ‘Querida, none of us know how long we have on this earth. Irina lived each day as if it were her last. She taught me much about the giving and receiving of love when we meet that special person.’

  The way he talked of his late wife, the way his voice changed, went so soft and loving caused a shocking spear of jealousy to pierce Becca’s heart.

  What a horrible, selfish witch she’d become, she castigated herself feeling desperately ashamed.

  ‘Do you have a photo of her?’

  Lucas gave her a puzzled smile. ‘Si, of course I do.’

  ‘Where?’

  He frowned. ‘In my study.’

  Becca leapt from the bed. ‘Can I see her?’

  With an expression that told her he was prepared to humour her Lucas rolled out of bed.

  He pa
dded to his closet and tugged on jeans and a T-shirt and tossed Becca one of his shirts.

  ‘Wear this or I will not be able to keep my hands off you, querida.’

  She remembered the growled instruction of a few days ago that the only shirt on her back would be his and she remembered too that she’d thought he’d been too jealous of Rick and how she’d been so very angry with him for it. But as she pulled on the soft blue shirt she knew what envy felt like. Rolling up the sleeves she followed him down the stairs and through the house to his vast study.

  Turning down the dimmer switch to bathe the room in a soft glow, Lucas went to a side table with a variety of framed photographs she’d never noticed before. Probably because she’d been so far up her own arse at the time and so self absorbed that she hadn’t seen what was right in front of her.

  My God, she loved this wonderful man with all of her heart. No wonder Lucas was so empathetic. He’d gone through exactly the same ordeal. He’d lost the love of his life and it had happened to him when he was so very young.

  He picked up a couple of modern silver frames and handed them to her.

  In one a beautiful young Nordic blonde with soft eyes of the palest blue gazed into the camera. The other showed a much younger, leaner version of Lucas lying in a hospital bed next to the same girl, but she was obviously very sick with a feeding tube up her nose. But her smile was still intact.

  A burning rock stuck in her throat as tears pooled in Becca’s eyes.

  Her voice broke as she spoke, ‘Oh, Lucas, she looks so absolutely beautiful and perfect.’

  He gave a gentle laugh at that statement. ‘Si, she was beautiful but she would roll her eyes at the perfect comment. No, querida, Irina was a lovely girl who had no illusions about herself. She knew her strengths and weaknesses. She had always dreamed of The Big Day. She was a romantic and I was happy to go along with that.’

  Still gazing at the photo, Becca smiled too.

  ‘And it’s so typical of you to go for a blonde. I think in every photo I’ve ever seen of you in the press you’ve a blonde hanging on your arm.’

  A big hand gripped the back of her neck and his fingers gently squeezed.

  ‘And you need to forget the tabloids. When I saw the photograph of Rick next to your bed, I felt totally inadequate. In my head he was a spotty, specky nerd. The guy looked like an ad for Ralph Lauren.’

  Becca grinned. ‘He’d have loved that! I had to dress him or he’d have walked out the door with shoes that didn’t match. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been left sitting in a restaurant or a cafe waiting for the man who never came.’

  Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the look Lucas had in his eyes for her.

  He stepped into her and caught her close as he tipped up her chin.

  ‘You are healing, querida?’

  She spoke from the heart and took the next step.

  ‘I have already healed. Can I put Rick’s photo down here with Irina? We need to honour them, Lucas. They made us a big part of who we are today.’

  After a long moment he rested his forehead on hers. ‘Si, I would like that.’

  She ran up the stairs to find the photo and another she had of their wedding day.

  Lucas didn’t flinch when he saw them, but he did pick up the wedding photo and spent an eternal moment just looking at her on her wedding day.

  Dark eyes swimming with emotions she couldn’t read met hers.

  ‘You look very happy, querida.’

  Her eyes held his. ‘I was.’

  ‘Do you think you could be as happy with me?’

  Could she?

  Those eyes went too dark and too intense as they bored into hers in the way that made her melt inside and turned her knees to water.

  She stretched up on her tip-toes to catch his fabulous face between her hands and press her mouth to his. And she knew she could be more than happy with him.

  ‘I am already as happy with you, Senor.’

  He hauled her into his hard body, hip to hip, breast to chest as he squeezed the breath from her lungs resting his cheek on the top of her head. It took Becca a moment to realise he was trembling uncontrollably. She ran a shaky hand down his shoulders and patted his back like a mother would a child.

  Oh my God, he truly was in love with her. How amazing was that? She took a breath as he still held her tight as if he’d never, ever let her go, the whole time muttering heartfelt endearments in rapid Spanish.

  ‘I must learn Spanish because I have no idea what you’re saying. I have a feeling I’m missing all the good bits.’

  His deep laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrated through her as he lifted his head and stared into her eyes.

  The fact that his eyes were wet almost undid her.

  ‘Lucas,’ his name was a mere breath as her fragile heart swelled with a deep and abiding love for this amazing man. ‘I love you so much.’

  Dropping to his knees Lucas pressed his face into the soft spot between her breasts then he gently pressed his mouth to her thickening tummy. He held her like a drowning man clinging to a life raft in a stormy sea. And Becca simply couldn’t bear to see him like that.

  ‘Get up. No, don’t do that. Please, Lucas, get up! I can’t bear it.’

  Dark eyes stared up into hers and she read the simple truth.

  His heart was in his eyes for her.

  ‘I love you, querida. I have loved you since I first saw you. Are you sure you love me?’

  He didn’t budge so Becca knelt with him, happy tears tipping over as she stroked his rough jaw.

  ‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Lucas. I love you, my darling. Marry me?’

  He shook his head as his deep laugh rumbled in his chest. ‘You kill me. That is supposed to be my line.’

  ‘Is that a yes, Senor?’

  ‘It is, querida.’ He hauled her to her feet, dragging her over to his desk. He sat, pulled her on his knee and opened a drawer. Presenting her with a small black leather box, Becca could tell by his face he was nervous of her reaction.

  With exaggerated care she pressed the button and the lid flew open.

  She gasped. The square cut diamond was set in platinum surrounded by smaller diamonds.

  His deep voice spoke, vibrating through her body,

  ‘You like it? If you want something else, we can change it.’

  He lifted the ring out of the box, slid it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. It fit perfectly. It might be a tad ostentatious, but as those dark eyes went like melted chocolate as they searched hers, Becca knew it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever been given. And more importantly, this was the ring Lucas wanted her to have.

  ‘I love it.’

  Her mouth met his and they held each other for what could have minutes or hours confessing everything that was in each heart for the other.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Much, much later in the orangery eating a takeaway pizza – Moira was going to kill them –and drinking a bottle of Moet, Becca relaxed on Lucas’s lap and clinked her crystal glass against his.

  He’d permitted her to have half a glass and that had been after two slices of pizza.

  ‘I want you to marry me sooner rather than later,’ he warned her.

  Mr Bossy was back with a vengeance and Becca found she could care less.

  ‘Okay,’ she said in a docile voice that made him smile.

  ‘Papa will want us to marry in Spain,’ he added in a hopeful tone that melted her heart.

  ‘No problem,’ she said and added, ‘Mama will want input too.’

  ‘Si, no problem. My idea is to give them a date and leave them to it. Our excuse being that stress is to be avoided at all costs.’

  ‘Sneaky. Aren’t we good? Can this last I ask myself? When are we going to have our first official argument?’

  ‘Perhaps we have used up our quota?’

  ‘You think?’

  His big rumbling laugh vibrated through her. ‘No, but
I live in hope.’

  ‘You don’t like me to disagree with you?’ The sharp tone made him laugh even harder.

  ‘I love disagreeing with you. I suspect you will never bore me, querida.’

  Becca thought about that and decided it was a compliment, sort of.

  ‘My blood pressure is dropping like a stone. Do you think Mr Sanderson will call off the nurse?’

  ‘We will speak with him tomorrow. I want to take you away from here for a few days.’

  She jerked up her head and gave him a big smile that had him plant a hot kiss on her willing mouth.

  ‘You do? Where are we going?’

  ‘Ludlow Hall. My friends live there, Nico and Bronte Ferranti.’

  ‘I’ve heard of it. Isn’t it a really expensive hotel and spa?’

  ‘Si. I want to stay in one of the annexes. They are lovely, private and you will be able to relax. We have been invited to visit The Dower House. Their twins are fourteen months old. I think we need to find out what we are in for.’

  Becca frowned at him. ‘I saw a photo of their wedding in the newspapers. Bronte’s another blonde isn’t she?’

  ‘I met her after she married Nico. Be nice.’

  ‘Okay. I’d love to meet your friends. Twins?

  ‘Si, a boy and a girl.’

  She nuzzled into his neck, loving the freedom to indulge herself.

  ‘Your Papa sounds just like you.’

  The big laugh rumbled under her cheek as Lucas stroked her hair.

  ‘You made him a very happy man. Gracias, querida.’

  Rubbing her cheek against his T-shirt, Becca sighed in sheer bliss.

  ‘We’re going to be okay, aren’t we, Lucas?’

  She didn’t see the frown that marred his forehead or the teeth running along his top lip, so she accepted his words for what they were.

  ‘Si, Becca. We are going to be absolutely fine.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  ‘When is the big day?’

  With a decided twinkle in his dark eyes Nico Ferranti poured sparkling water into Becca’s glass and topped up Bronte and Lucas’s glasses with a full bodied red from his own vineyard in the Tuscan hills.

  ‘Four weeks,’ Becca said with a smile for the incredibly handsome big Italian.

  They were in the dining kitchen of The Dower House. The space was fabulous, constructed of heavy oak beams and glass and consisted of an ultra modern kitchen, eating area and vast living space which brought the garden into the house.