Quietly, he left the room.
Hattie changed into a gown and robe. Ordinarily, she slept in a T-shirt and panties, but with Luc in the house, she needed extra armor.
She folded the comforter and turned back the covers before heading for the bathroom. Well, shoot. She’d forgotten to give Luc even the basics. Taking a new toothbrush from the cabinet, she returned to the living room. “Sorry. I meant to give you this. There’s toothpaste on the counter, and if you want to shave in the morning—”
She stopped dead, her pulse jumping. Luc stood before her wearing nothing but a pair of gray knit boxers, which left little to the imagination. Every inch of his body was fit and tight. His skin was naturally olive-toned, and the dusting of fine black hair on his chest made her want to stroke it to see if it was as soft as she remembered.
Long muscular thighs led upward to… She gulped. As she watched in fascination, his erection grew and flexed. She literally couldn’t move. Luc didn’t seem at all embarrassed, despite the fact that her face was hot enough to fry an egg.
“Thank you for the toothbrush.” A half smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
She extended the cellophane-wrapped package gingerly, making sure her fingers didn’t touch his. “You’re welcome.”
And still she didn’t leave. The years rolled away. She remembered with painful clarity what it was like to be held tightly to that magnificent chest, to feel those strong arms pull her close, to experience the hard evidence of his arousal thrusting against her abdomen.
His gaze was hooded, the line of his mouth now almost grim. “Like what you see?”
The mockery was deliberate, she had no doubt…as if to say you were so foolish back then. Look what you gave up.
Heat flooded her body. The robe stifled her. She wanted to tear it off, to fling herself at Luc. But her limbs couldn’t move. She was paralyzed, caught between bitter memories of the past and the sure knowledge that Luc Cavallo was still the man who could make her soar with pleasure.
“Answer me, Hattie,” he said roughly. “If you’re going to look at me like that, I’m damn sure going to take the invitation.”
Her lips parted. No sound came out.
The color on his cheekbones darkened and his eyes flared with heat. “Come here.”
No soft preliminaries. No tentative approach.
Luc was confident, controlled. He touched only her face, sliding his hands beneath her hair and holding her still so his mouth could ravage hers. His tongue thrust between her lips—invading, dominant, taking and not giving. She was shaking all over, barely able to stand. He kissed her harder still, muttering something to himself she didn’t quite catch.
She felt the push of his hips. Suddenly, her body came to life with painful tingles of heat. Her arms went around his waist, and she kissed him back. But when his fingers accidentally brushed the painful knot on her skull, she flinched.
Instantly, he cursed and thrust her away, his gaze a cross between anger and incredulity. “Damn you. Go to bed, Hattie.”
If she had been a Victorian heroine, she might have swooned at this very moment. But she was made of sterner stuff. She marshaled her defenses, muttered a strangled goodnight and fled.
Aeons later it seemed, she rolled over and flung an arm over her face. Bright sunshine peeked in through a crack between the curtains. She had slept like the dead, deeply, dreamlessly. A glance at the clock stopped her heart. It was nine o’clock. Deedee. Dear heaven. The baby was always up by six-thirty.
She leaped from the bed, almost taking a nosedive when the covers tangled around her feet. The crib was empty. She sucked in a panicked breath, and then her sleep-fuddled brain began to function.
Luc. Memories of his kiss tightened her nipples and made her thighs clench with longing. She touched her lips as the hot sting of tears made her blink and sniff. Ten years was a lifetime to wait for something that was at once so terrible and so wonderful.
She opened her bedroom door and simultaneously heard the sound of childish gurgles and smelled the heavenly aroma of frying bacon. Luc stood by the stove. Deedee was tucked safely in her high chair nearby.
He glanced up, his features impassive. “Good morning.”
The baby squealed in delight and lurched toward Hattie. Luc unfastened the tray and handed her off. “I fed her a bottle and half a jar of peaches. I didn’t want to give her anything else until I checked with you.” The words were gruff, as if he’d had to force them from his throat.
Hattie cuddled the baby, stunned that Luc had taken over with such relaxed competence. Not that she didn’t think he was capable. But she had never witnessed him with children, and she was shocked to see him so calm and in control, especially when Hattie herself had experienced a few rough moments in the last six weeks.
He started cracking eggs into a bowl. “This will be ready in five, and the movers will be showing up shortly. You might want to get dressed. I can handle Deedee.”
Hattie held the baby close, realizing with chagrin that she had jumped out of bed and never actually donned her robe. The sheer fabric of her nightie revealed far too much. “She’ll be fine with me.” Suddenly she noticed the sheaf of legal papers on the nearby coffee table. “Luc…I’m so sorry. With everything that happened, we never did get around to dealing with the marriage stuff.”
He popped two slices of bread into her toaster. “No worries. We’ll have time later today.”
She hesitated, eager to leave the room, but feeling oddly abashed that he had watched her sleeping…without her knowledge. Though they had made love many times when they were together, only once or twice had they enjoyed the luxury of spending the night together.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you for getting up with the baby. I can’t believe I didn’t hear her.”
He shrugged. “I’m an early riser. I enjoyed spending time with her. She’s a charming child.”
“You haven’t seen her throw a temper tantrum yet,” she joked. “Batten down the hatches. She has a great set of lungs.”
He paused his efficient preparations, the spatula in midair. “You’re doing a great job. She’s lucky to have you as her mother.” His eyes and his voice were serious.
“Thanks.” Despite the task he had undertaken, nothing about the setting made Luc look at all domestic: quite the opposite. Luc Cavallo was the kind of man you’d want by your side during a forced jungle march. He possessed a self-confidence that was absolute.
But that resolute belief in his own ability to direct the universe to his liking made Hattie uneasy. In asking for his help, she had unwittingly given him the very power she had refused to allow in their previous relationship. Even if she had second thoughts now, the situation was already beyond her control.
The contents of the small apartment were packed, boxes loaded and rooms emptied by 12:30. Luc had already paid out the remainder of Hattie’s lease. All that was left for her to do was turn in her keys to the super and follow Luc out to the car where Sherman was waiting. But there she balked. “I’ll follow you in my car.”
Luc frowned. “I thought we had this discussion.”
“I like my car. I’m sentimentally attached to my car. I’m not giving it away.”
The standoff lasted only a few seconds. Luc shrugged, his expression resigned. “I’ll see you at the house.”
It was a small victory, but it made Hattie feel better. Luc had a habit of taking charge in ways that ostensibly made perfect sense, but left Hattie feeling like a helpless damsel in distress. She had asked for his help, but that didn’t mean she’d let him walk all over her.
She strapped Deedee into the old, shabby car seat and slid into the front, turning the key in the ignition and praying the car would start. That would be the final indignity.
As their little caravan pulled away from the curb, Hattie glanced in the rearview mirror for one last look at her old life slipping away. Her emotions were not easy to define. Relief. Sadness. Anticipation. Had she sold her soul to the
devil? Only time would tell.
Luc experienced a sharp but distinct jolt of satisfaction when Hattie stepped over his threshold. Something primitive in him exulted. She was coming to him of her own free will. She’d be under his roof…wearing his ring. Ten years ago he’d let his pride keep him from trying to get her back. That, and his misguided belief that he had to respect her wishes. But everything was different this time around. He was calling the shots.
The attraction was still there. He felt it, and he knew she did, as well. Soon she would turn to him out of sheer gratitude, or unfulfilled desire or loneliness. And then she would be his. He’d waited a long time for this. And no one could fault him. He was giving Hattie and her baby a home and security.
If he extracted his pound of flesh in the process, it was only fair. She owed him that much.
He left them to get settled in, with Sherman and Ana hovering eagerly. After changing clothes, he drove to the office and threw himself into the pile of work that had accumulated during his unaccustomed morning off.
But for once, his concentration was shot. He found himself wishing he was back at the house, watching Hattie…playing with the baby…anticipating the night to come.
He called home on the drive back. It wasn’t late, only six-thirty. Hattie answered her cell.
“Hello, Luc.”
He returned the greeting and said, “Ana has offered to look after Deedee this evening. I thought we might go out for a quiet dinner and discuss business.”
Business? He winced. Did he really mean to sound so cavalier?
Hattie’s response was cool. “I don’t want to take advantage of Ana’s good nature.”
“You’re not, I swear. It was her idea. Little Deedee has a way of making people fall in love with her. I’ll be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”
It was only dinner. With a woman who had already rejected him once. Why was his heart beating faster?
Unfortunately for Hattie, the black dress had to do duty again. This time she had no inclination to wear Luc’s necklace. Not for a business dinner. She tied a narrow tangerine scarf around her neck and inserted plain gold hoops in her ears.
She was ready and waiting in the foyer when he walked in the front door.
Luc seemed disappointed. “Where’s the baby?”
Hattie grimaced, her nerves jumping. “She’s taking an early evening nap. I couldn’t get her to sleep much at all this afternoon…the uncertainty of a new place, I think. She was cranky and exhausted.”
“Too bad. Well, in that case, I guess we can get going.”
The restaurant was lovely—very elegant, and yet not so pretentious that Hattie felt uncomfortable. The sommelier chatted briefly with Luc and then produced a zinfandel that met with Luc’s approval.
Hattie was persuaded to try a glass. “It’s really good,” she said. “Fruity but not too sweet.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I thought you’d like it.”
They enjoyed a quiet dinner, sticking to innocuous topics, and then afterward, Luc reached into a slim leather folder and extracted a sheaf of papers. “My lawyers have drawn up all the necessary documents. If you wish, you’re welcome to have a third-party lawyer go over them with you. I know from experience that legalese is hard to wade through at times.”
She took the documents and eyed them cautiously. “I have someone who has been helping me with the custody issues,” she said, already skimming the lines of print. “I’ll get her to take a look.” Most of it was self-explanatory. When she reached page three of the prenup, her eyebrows raised. “It says here that if and when the marriage dissolves, I’ll be entitled to a lump sum payment of $500,000.”
He drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. His skin was dark against the snowy-white cloth. “You don’t think that’s fair?”
“I think it’s outrageous. You don’t owe me anything. You’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t plan to walk away with half a million dollars. Put something aside for Deedee’s education if you want to, but we need to strike that line.”
His jaw tightened. “The line stays. That’s a deal breaker.”
She studied his face, puzzled and upset. “I don’t understand.”
He scowled at her, his posture combative. “You’ve thrown my wealth in my face the entire time I’ve known you, Hattie. And now you’re using it to protect someone you love. I don’t have a problem with that. But I’ll be damned when that day comes if I’ll let anyone say I threw you out on the street destitute.”
Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it…hard. Luc was a proud man. Perhaps until now she had never really understood just how proud he was. She was sure his heart had healed after she broke up with him. But maybe the dent to his pride was not so easily repaired.
She owed him a sign of faith. It was the least she could do after treating him so shabbily in the past. He was an honorable man. That much hadn’t changed. She reached into her purse for a pen and turned to the first yellow sticky tab. With a flourish, she signed her name.
He put a hand over hers. “Are you sure you don’t want someone to look over this with you?”
She shivered inwardly at his touch. “I’m sure,” she said, her words ragged.
He released her and watched intently as she signed one page after another. When it was all done, she handed the documents back to him. “Is that it?”
Luc tucked the paperwork away. “I have a couple of other things I think we need to discuss, but it requires a private setting. We’ll be more comfortable at home.”
“Oh.” Her scintillating response didn’t faze him. He seemed perfectly calm. He summoned their waiter, paid the check and stood to pull out her chair. As they exited the restaurant, she was hyperaware of his warm hand resting in the small of her back.
Hattie was silent on the drive back. Her skin was hot, her stomach pitchy. What on earth could he mean? Sex? It seemed the obvious topic, but she had assumed they might work up to that gradually…after they were married. She hadn’t anticipated talking about it so bluntly or openly. They had been as close as two people could be once upon a time. But that was long, long ago.
Was she willing to go to his bed? To be his wife in every sense of the word? He was well within his rights as a husband to insist.
Did she expect him to be faithful in the context of a sham marriage? And if Luc no longer wanted to be intimate with Hattie, was it fair to deny him physical satisfaction?
She wouldn’t lie to herself. She wanted Luc.
Dear Lord, what was she going to say?
In a cowardly play for more time, she stalled when they got back to the house. “I’d like to check on the baby and change clothes. Is that okay? It won’t take me long.”
Luc dropped his keys into the exquisite Baccarat dish on the table in the foyer. “Take your time. I’ll meet you in the den when you’re ready.”
Five
Wearing ancient jeans and a faded Emory T-shirt, Luc sprawled on the leather sofa and stared moodily at the blank television screen. Was he insane? Power. A nice fantasy. Clearly he was fooling himself. What man was ever really in control when his brain ceded authority to a less rational part of his body?
Just being close to Hattie these last few days had caused him to resort to cold showers. He told himself that his physical response to her was nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction to memories…to sensual images of the way he and Hattie had burned up the sheets.
She’d been a virgin when they met, a shy, reserved girl with big eyes and a wary take on the world. As if she was never quite sure someone wasn’t going to pull the rug out from under her feet.
He’d been embarrassed to tell her how many girls he’d been with before meeting her. A horny teenager with unlimited money at his disposal was a dangerous combination. In high school, he’d been too concerned about keeping his body in shape for sports to dabble in drugs. And even drinking, a rite of passage for adolescent boys, didn’t hold much allure. Perhaps because he had grown up i
n a house where alcohol was freely available and handled wisely.
But sex…hell, he’d had a lot of sex. Money equals power…even sixteen-year-old girls could figure that out. So Luc was never without female companionship, unless he chose to hang with his buddies.
When Hattie came into his life, everything changed. She was different. She liked him, but his money didn’t interest her. At first, he thought her attitude might be a ploy to snag his attention. But as they got to know each other, he realized that she really didn’t give a damn that he was loaded.
She expected thoughtfulness from him, attention to her likes and dislikes. She wanted him to know her. And that was something money couldn’t buy.
It was only much, much later that he realized his money was actually a stumbling block.
A faint noise made him turn his head. Hattie hovered in the doorway, her sun-streaked blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail, her feet bare. She was dressed as casually as he was.
He patted the seat beside him. “Would you like more wine?” The upcoming conversation might flow more easily if she relaxed.
She shook her head as she perched gingerly on the far end of the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. “No, thanks. Water would be nice.” Her toenails were painted pale pink. The sight of them did odd things to his gut.
He went to the fridge behind the bar, extracted two Perriers and handed her one. As he sat back down, he allowed the careful distance she had created to remain between them. It meant she was nervous, and that gave him an edge. He handed her a slim white envelope. “We’ll start with this.” Inside were three credit cards with her soon-to-be name, Hattie Parker Cavallo, already imprinted.
She extracted them with patent reluctance. “What are these?”
He stretched an arm along the back of the sofa. “As my wife, you’ll need a large wardrobe. I entertain frequently, and I also travel often. When it’s feasible, I’d like you and Deedee to accompany me. In addition, I want you to outfit the nursery upstairs. I’ve put a selection of baby furniture catalogs in the desk drawer in your bedroom. Ana will show you the suite I picked out for Deedee. If it doesn’t meet with your approval, we’ll decide on another.”
The Billionaire's Borrowed Baby Page 4
