He was divine.
Greedy now, she devoured him—just so, so much pleasure in giving. She felt his fingers knotting in her hair, smelled the provocative scent of his most intimate place, felt black wiry curls kissing her eyes as she worked tenderly, boldly on…as he urged her deeper even while pulling her back.
‘Octahobka,’ Levander groaned, before repeating it in English. ‘Cease now…’
There was no point trying to stand as he raised her up. Instead Millie fell on the vast bed with him—she so oiled and ready, and him so erect it was indecent. He was holding her—holding her so close she could hardly breathe—his lips kissing her eyes, his cheeks suffocating her with his desire. And it didn’t matter about tomorrow; right now was enough. His tongue, hot and determined, pressed its weight on her, passion flaring as if they had been doused in petrol and set alight. His hands pushed her thighs apart more quickly than she could spread them. From his rapid breaths, from the rush of flesh swelling dangerously close, all she could do was guide him—guide him to her sweet, waiting entrance.
Her mouth was so full of his that she couldn’t even call out as he thrust himself in, as her body adapted to the fabulous sensation of him inside her. It could have, should been over then. Only it wasn’t. As if somehow just being there together was too good to end, his body sliding over and over hers, each measured stroke building towards a nearing target. Her throat, her stomach, her thighs contracted as still he bucked within, her fingers digging into his taut buttocks, her groin arching into his. She was weeping, frenzied, as he filled her, her orgasm so intense that she begged relief. But still he was bucking, still aroused when surely he should gladly wilt.
‘I can’t,’ she wept in her exhaustion, ‘Levander, I ca—’
Her sob was muffled by the muscle of his shoulder, and she bit into his salty flesh as she realised that, actually, she could.
‘Millie.’ He was pounding every one of her senses as he swelled further inside her, and though she had nothing to base it on, no touchstone to measure by, somehow as he eked the last dregs of restraint from her, as Levander spilled his full cup, taking her to the brink of insanity, she knew this was once in a lifetime. That this wasn’t what she had been missing out on—this was what she must now forever miss.
And later, when exhausted, sated, she fell asleep beside him, instead of relaxing, instead of merely enjoying the precious time that remained, Levander wrestled with the impossible.
One heady taste had him hungry for more.
And not just for her body, but for her mind. He wanted those blue eyes to open on him—wanted to hear that voice—wanted more of the closeness they had shared tonight…
And that was what terrified him the most.
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU don’t have to go.’
Waking to those words, Millie felt her heart still in her chest—her mind struggled to wake up, to assimilate all that had happened, and frantically she sat up, panic seizing her as she realised she’d fallen asleep.
Levander pushed her gently back down. ‘It is only eight a.m. Relax.’
‘Relax!’ Millie let out an incredulous gurgle of laughter. ‘I have to be at the airport to check in in two hours.’
‘I say you don’t.’ He was propped on one elbow, leaning over her at the same time, his free hand stroking the outside of her thigh under the sheet, and for the second time in less than a minute Millie’s heart stilled.
All the promise she hadn’t dared glimpse dazzled her now, as she took in his raw naked beauty, that colourless face even more sensual somehow, his face pale in the stark morning sunlight, heavy-lidded eyes squinting slightly as he stared down at her—unshaven, untamed, and utterly unattainable, Millie decided with a reluctant sigh. Levander Kolovsky was so far out of her league it wasn’t even worth considering the possibility. Last night had been amazing, undoubtedly the most romantic, sensual night of her life—and one she would never regret—but whatever magic had caused their stars to collide was one cosmic miracle that surely couldn’t be sustained. They came from different worlds—and not just geographically. It had been too much, too soon, but completely unregrettable, and that gave her the courage to answer him honestly.
‘Yes, Levander…’ She watched as his eyes crinkled into a frown and then elaborated. ‘I do.’
‘If your visa is a problem then I can have my lawyer sort it out,’ Levander said dismissively. ‘Surely a few days won’t make a difference? I can buy you another plane ticket if you have trouble cancelling at such short notice.’
His answer only strengthened her resolve—people like Levander gave no more thought to an international flight than Millie would to catching a bus, yet her airline ticket—the entire trip, in fact, had taken months of saving and planning. But, aside from that, a few more days wasn’t going to change the ending to this dream. A few more days could only make the inevitable parting all the harder—at least for Millie.
‘My family’s expecting me.’
‘Tell them you’ve been unexpectedly delayed…’ His hand was moving to the inside of her thigh now, delivering long strokes, and though his touch was softer now the effect was heightened, making arguing her case all the more difficult. ‘Tell them something came up…’ His sensual mouth curled into a slow smile as he moved her hand to his morning erection. ‘See—you would be telling the truth…You know it is too soon for this to end.’
He whispered the words to her left breast, taking the nipple in his mouth and sucking slowly, drawing sense from her mind with each decadent motion. His impact on her actually unnerved her, and if he touched her for even a second longer then Millie knew she was lost.
‘No—I have to go, Levander…’ Jerking her hand away, wriggling herself free from him, she stepped out of the warm bed, her words, her actions coming more harshly than intended.
She tried to read his expression, but it was as if bandit screens had come up at a bank—like looking at him, talking to him, through thick glass as he stood up and pulled on a robe. All the closeness, all they had shared last night, was gone now—and she couldn’t blame him for what he must be thinking: that scenes like this for Millie must be the norm. They certainly were for him, she thought, remembering the beautiful teary Latina of the night before. Holding on to that thought, she squared her shoulders, grabbing her clothes and almost running for the bathroom, desperate for distance.
Closing the door, she sat naked and trembling on the edge of the vast bath. It had to be this way, Millie assured herself. For a dangerous moment she’d actually considered what he was offering—succumbing to his lovemaking, staying on for the golden few days he was offering. Peeling herself out of his embrace had taken a supreme effort, but the thought of ringing her family—her family who, so excited at her return, were preparing a little welcome home party—telling them…
Telling them what?
Turning on the shower, Millie stepped in, closing her eyes as a blast of hot water brought her to her senses. That she’d met some rich guy a few hours ago who’d offered to buy her a new ticket? That she’d fallen into bed with a man she barely knew and was seriously considering letting everyone down just so she could get to know him a little better.
Millie barely looked at guys, was always so careful not to let anything interfere with her dream. And she had been, Millie realised. All her life she’d been careful—right up till this point. Her hand stilled on her body. In fact for a second everything stilled. And Millie wasn’t sure if it was the water running or the blood gushing through her ears as an appalling truth hit.
Not only hadn’t she been careful, last night she had been downright reckless. He was so intriguing, so intoxicating, so potently sexual she hadn’t even considered contraception—hadn’t thought of a single consequence.
Oh, God.
With a whimper of horror she almost doubled up in self-loathing.
Where had careful been when she’d needed it most?
Naïve, reckless stupid…Brutal words slap
ped her ears as she quickly dressed.
‘Would you like some breakfast?’ His voice sounded incredibly forced as she came out of the bathroom, and Millie couldn’t really blame him. She was having trouble with her own words.
‘I really ought to get moving.’ She attempted a smile, but it faded when he didn’t return it. ‘Look, it really was terribly nice of you to offer to get me another ticket—’
‘It probably is for the best that you go,’ he interrupted abruptly. ‘I am extremely busy over the next few days—I probably wouldn’t be able to schedule much time with you.’ Even allowing for his slightly limited English, his words were brutal. ‘I’ll make sure there is a driver available for you this morning—he can take you to your hotel, and when you are ready to the airport.’
And if it seemed like a kind offer, it only served to make her feel worse, if that were possible—as if somehow he were paying her back for her time. Perhaps the driver would stop en route and let her pick a bauble? She hated how he’d changed since she’d insisted that she was leaving—as if now he didn’t even have to pretend to be nice to her any more. Tears glittered in her eyes as she declined his offer.
‘I’d rather take a taxi.’
‘As you prefer.’
She didn’t bother with make-up. Rummaging through her bag, she just gave her hair a quick comb, wishing she could look more seductive, just a touch more fabulous as this amazing chapter of her life came to its sad close. But she couldn’t. Couldn’t just walk out on him as if last night didn’t matter, and she couldn’t tell him either just how much it had. So, awkward and horribly shy, but trying not show it, Millie tested the water.
‘I can give you my phone number…perhaps you could give me a call?’ It was a brave thing to offer, but incredibly stupid to lay herself so open to rejection, and it stung like hell when he shook his head.
‘Perhaps not.’
Trying not to cry, trying to get out of his apartment with just a teensy shred of dignity, Millie didn’t turn around. But she stilled for just a second as she walked out of the door and his beautiful rich voice delivered the strangest of farewells.
‘You know where I am if you decide to come and get me.’
It took no time to get ready—three months of clothes thrown into a suitcase, her passport and tickets collected from the hotel safe and her bill paid. And as Millie took her second taxi ride of the morning, she stared at the streets she’d walked last night with Levander. She was filled with longing—almost homesick for a city she’d barely graced—and, passing the gallery, it was impossible not to stop for one last look. With the meter running she dashed out, blinking in amazement at the red dot on her painting. She raced inside and greeted an equally delighted Anton.
‘You just had your first sale, honey.’
‘Levander?’ It was the only name on her mind, the only thing in her head. But the bubble of hope burst when Anton laughed and shook his head.
‘I wish! No—some rather staid lady. You just missed her—the ink’s barely dry on her cheque. Is there any way you can change your flight, Millie? Things could be turning around for you…’
She actually had a legitimate excuse to ring home with now—a real reason to stay on just a little bit longer. But Millie couldn’t do it. She wanted home, wanted her mum—and, Millie realised with shame, needed to see a doctor. She could still see Levander shaking his head when she’d offered him not just her phone number but the chance to get to know her a little better—a chance to somehow build on the one night they had shared. A few days as his scheduled plaything was the last thing she either wanted or needed to be.
‘I really need to get back.’
‘Shame.’ Anton smiled. ‘You should be sipping champagne with your gorgeous date from last night, not fleeing the country, you know. How on earth did you land him, Millie? Have you any idea how many women would kill for a chance to date him?’
‘Does he date lots…?’ Mille gulped. ‘I mean, I gather he’s no angel, but…’
‘He’s incorrigible.’ Anton giggled. ‘He’d only just started working at his father’s company when he dated some actress—not that anyone knew who he was then. She was over here from the States to promote a film, and the next thing she was crying her eyes out on live television mid-interview because she’d just been dumped by Levander Kolovsky. Well, from that moment on the press have been in love with him, and his little black book reads like a Who’s Who. We all live in hope that soon enough he’ll work his way through the women and cross to the other side. We call him Georgie!’
‘Georgie?’
‘He kisses the girls, then makes them cry. It’s probably best that you are leaving, honey. He’d soon mess up that pretty little head of yours.’
He already had.
As she climbed back into the taxi to head towards the airport Millie tried to fathom how in so little time so much could have changed. Selling her paintings had been her sole focus—everything had been geared towards making that first sale—only right now it barely seemed to matter. Everything that she had once deemed vital had gone tumbling to the bottom of her priorities. She barely knew him—and yet she felt different. As if in the couple of hours or so that she’d slept in his arms every molecule, every cell of her being had been taken out and then put back, only in a slightly different order.
‘Could you go down Collins Street?’
The taxi driver just nodded. He probably didn’t care if it took the whole day to get to the airport as long as the meter was running. But it was the most dangerous diversion of her life. As they approached the hotel, Millie asked him to slow down. She scanned the foyer for a glimpse, then stared up and up at the vast building, craning her neck. To see what, she didn’t know—the thick black hotel windows gave no indication of what was going on inside. Truth be known, she had no idea which one was his. Yet she was sure, more sure than she’d ever been in her life, that Levander was staring down at her—that Levander was staring out through the window at her.
Watching her leave and maybe—Millie gulped—just maybe, waiting to see if she decided to return.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘HOW could you let this happen, Levander?’ Nina Kolovsky’s voice was pure venom as she flounced uninvited into his office at 7 a.m. and slammed down a newspaper in front of him. ‘All your father has done for you over the years—and here he is practically on his deathbed and you disgrace him this way.’
Usually it was Levander’s favourite time of the day—he was always the first into work and more often than not the last to leave, and the couple of hours before everyone else invaded gave him a chance to focus without interruption. The sight of Nina at this hour, made-up to the hilt despite the supposed drama, was for Levander most unwelcome. Anyway, his father had been on his deathbed for four months now—and looking remarkably well on it. So well, in fact, that Levander didn’t even bother to pick up the newspaper his stepmother was jabbing a well-manicured nail at. Couldn’t be bothered to read about his supposed latest exploits, or read that the company shares had slid a quarter of one percent—just couldn’t be bothered, full-stop.
‘Out, Nina,’ he drawled, his disinterest only inflaming her further. ‘And I would prefer you arrange it with my secretary when you want to talk to me.’
‘This won’t wait!’ Nina screeched. ‘How could you do this to us? There is the reputation of our family to consider, your father’s health. A shock like this could mean the end of him.’
Reputation.
It was the word he hated most to hear—a word that had been bandied around since he’d first set foot in Australia.
“Kolovskys has a reputation to uphold.’
“You will keep quiet, Levander.’
‘You will be grateful for all your father has done for you.’
Not once.
Never.
His father and everything he was disgusted him—that he was a Kolovsky did nothing to make Levander proud.
‘Annika pleaded with you to marr
y a nice girl, have babies—me, I pleaded with you to give your father his last wish, to let him go to his grave having seen the future of our family and the business. Instead you spit in all our faces—get some cyka pregnant—how could you let this happen?’
‘You really think I am that stupid?’ Levander sneered. ‘As if I would be so careless, Nina. As if I don’t know how many women would love to trap a man in my position. So, forget this rubbish you read…’ He picked up the paper, ready to toss it in to the bin, ready to tell Nina to get the hell out of his office so that he could get on with his work. But his voice faded mid-sentence as he stared again at the eyes that had enchanted him, remembering the one time in his life he hadn’t thought to be careful.
Because that night he hadn’t thought—he’d felt.
‘So you do know her, then?’ Nina lit a cigarette and stood taking in his reaction, her face as hard as stone behind the make-up. ‘You know this cheap, conniving tart—’
‘Enough,’ Levander roared, halting her filthy mouth momentarily. But the words hung in the air as he skim-read the article. Bile churned in his stomach as he read that not only was Millie pregnant, but that she’d deliberately withheld the information from him. Had chosen not to tell him—had even, Levander read, a great wave of nausea rolling over him as he did so, considered a termination.
‘She would not do this.’ It was a knee-jerk reaction, an absolute state of denial, because even though the paper screamed the words, the Millie he had met, his Millie, would never—could never say such things. ‘She would not say these things…’ Levander insisted, like a drowning man reaching for a safety rope—a man who would do anything to reach safe shores. He actually turned to Nina, sought comfort from the unlikeliest of sources, where he knew he would never receive the slightest of warmth. ‘She would not do that.’
‘Think with your head where this woman is concerned, Levander—because she has.’
Expecting His Love-Child Page 5
