Читать книгу Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire - Jennie Lucas - Страница 17

LIA took another sip of the fragrant strong coffee, rich with cream and sugar, from a tiny cup painted with pale-blue flowers and traced in twenty-four-karat gold.

The owner of the expensive French café sprang forward to refill her cup as she set it down, but she covered it with her hand. “No more for me, thank you, Pierre. I’ll just finish this, then go.”

The manager nodded sagely. “Oui, madame. Of course. But,” he said with a tsk, “we’ve missed Mademoiselle Ruby today. I hope she is well?”

Lia nearly choked on her coffee. She felt Roark watching her.

“She’s very well,” she managed. “She just … couldn’t make it today.”

“I’m glad to hear that, madame.” Bowing, he backed away respectfully.

“Who’s Ruby?” Roark inquired.

Lia’s teeth chattered. When Roark had allowed her to choose the restaurant, she’d picked her favorite place. She’d thought it would make her feel comfortable, that it would make her feel calm and strong enough to face Roark.

How could she have failed to consider the fact that Pierre served her and Ruby brunch every Sunday? He adored the baby. He always brought her little origami cranes which he made for her out of the linen napkins.

Rattled, Lia scraped the last of her syrup on the very last bit of waffle and stuffed it all in her mouth.

“Ruby’s a friend,” she mumbled. “Just a good friend.”

A very good friend indeed. The darling of Lia’s life, the cutest baby in the world, who’d just learned to crawl. Swallowing the lump of waffle, she stood up so abruptly that her napkin fell to the floor. “I’m done. Let’s go.”

Lia almost expected Roark to fight her, to insist that she stay. Or worse—to pick her up in his strong arms and drag her to some hotel room.

But he didn’t. He just paid the bill, took her hand and escorted her back to where his driver awaited them outside.

As the Rolls-Royce edged slowly through the mid-morning traffic, she slowly started to breathe again. Was it really that easy? By some miracle, would he leave her like he’d promised?

“Right up here,” she told the driver. Relief flashed through her when she saw the nineteenth-century building that contained her tiny West Side office. She’d made it!

“Goodbye, Roark,” she told him, opening her door. “Thanks for breakfast. Good luck in Asia.”

“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist. She took a long, shuddering breath, then turned back to face him. He looked up at her. “Invite me inside.”

“To my office? Why?”

He gave her a wicked grin that made her hair curl, that made her body feel sweaty all over even as her breath froze like smoke in the cold winter air. “I want to help you.”

“Help me?” she whispered. “How?”

“I want to donate money for your park.”

The same park he’d done his best to destroy? The colossal cheek of the man! Fury raced through her.

“You lying bastard!” she burst out. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe you want to help me?”

He snorted, giving her a lazy half smile. “I think I can see why you’re having a hard time raising money.”

“Of course I don’t talk to real donors that way. But you’re not serious!”

His eyes met hers, all trace of his smile gone. “What would it take to show you how serious I am?”

She chewed her lip.

She did need donations for the park. They were still twenty million short, and it would be a miracle if they could get that much together by March, when the landscaping bids would be completed.

But getting Roark out of New York before he found out she’d had his baby was even more important than raising money for the park.

She could just refuse him, of course. But every time she’d run away from Roark, it only made him pursue her more. Like any dangerous wolf or bear, he seemed maddened by the sight of prey running away.

So what if she didn’t run away?

What if instead she gave him exactly what he wanted? Wouldn’t that make him lose interest? The only reason he continued to pursue her was because she didn’t want him. In a world where every other woman on the planet lived to serve him in every way possible, he must have found Lia’s hatred an intriguing novelty.

But if she’d actually wanted to be his girlfriend, a playboy like Roark wouldn’t have been able to run from her fast enough. Throwing herself at him would be the easiest way to get rid of him.

But … throw herself at him? The idea terrified her. She couldn’t do it.

She would just have to allay his suspicions, accept his money and then pray he would leave.

“Fine,” she ground out, turning away with ill grace. “You can come into my office long enough to write your check.”

“Very generous of you,” he said, getting out of the Rolls-Royce behind her.

He followed her into the building, up the rickety old elevator to the rooms on the third floor that Lia had rented for her foundation. There were two offices—one for Emily, one for Lia—and a front waiting room that held some chairs where their receptionist answered the phones.

The girl looked up breathlessly when she saw Roark. He smiled at her casually, and Lia could see the effect it had on Sarah. She gawked at dark, handsome Roark as if she’d never seen a man before.

For some reason it annoyed Lia. “Good morning, Sarah,” she said. “Do you have the preliminary list?”

“Hmm?” It took several seconds before the receptionist even seemed to realize Lia was with him. “Um. Right. Yes, I have it, Lia. Here it is.”

“This is Roark Navarre,” Lia said over her shoulder, as she headed to her office with the papers in her hands. “He’s here to write a check, then he’s going to leave.”

“Hello, Mr. Navarre,” she heard Sarah giggle, and Lia suddenly wanted to smack her. Sarah Wood was a graduate of Barnard with a degree in economics, but a single smile from Roark had turned her into a puddle of giggly femininity!

“Do you need a pen?” the girl was cooing.

“No, thank you, Miss …?”

“Call me Sarah,” the pretty blonde sighed.

“No, thank you, Sarah. I see a pen right over there.”

Lia stomped into her office, throwing down her coat, scarf and gloves across her leather sofa with a growl. She forced herself to turn away from Roark and Sarah and look over the names on her list. She’d need to call Mrs. Van Deusen and Mrs. Olmstead first. The old society mavens would take offense if she didn’t.

She heard Sarah giggle again. Grinding her teeth, Lia tightened her hands around the papers. If she heard Sarah sigh and coo over Roark once more, she wouldn’t be responsible for the consequences!

“Why do you have a playpen in here?”

Lia whirled around to see Roark in her doorway, staring at the playpen that was tucked in the far corner behind her sofa. Oh, no! Before Ruby had learned to crawl and developed an intense dislike of confinement, Lia had brought her to the office for a few hours a week. She’d forgotten the playpen was still there, filled with baby toys!

Roark stepped further into her office, looking around curiously as he took a pen off her desk. “Is it for Emily? You waste no time, do you? They only just found out she was pregnant yesterday.”

She wiped two beads of sweat off her forehead. “Emily? Yes. Of course,” she stuttered. “It’s for Emily’s baby.”

And it wasn’t even a lie, since the gorgeous, barely-used playpen would likely be moved over to the adjacent office after Emily finished maternity leave. Assuming Emily even came back. Assuming she didn’t decide to be a stay-at-home mom in a charming Connecticut house with a white picket fence, making dinners and ironing shirts for an adoring husband who loved her, making cookies for their happy, growing brood of children …

“Lia?”

She blinked as her wistful thoughts evaporated. “What?”

He held his checkbook in his hand. “How much do you need?”

“For what?”

“For the park.”

She stared at him unblinkingly. “Oh. Right.” She took a deep breath. “Our next fund-raiser is a masquerade ball on Valentine’s Day. You won’t be in New York, of course.” And thank God for that, she added silently. “But if you wanted to buy an individual ticket and donate the seat, it would be a thousand dollars. Or if you wanted to sponsor a whole table—”

“You don’t understand.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “How much would it take for you to be completely done with fund-raising?”

“What are you talking about?”

“How much would cover everything?”

She shook her head. “But you don’t care about the park. You told me so yourself. You said you didn’t give a damn about the kids.”

“I still don’t.”

“Then why?”

“Just tell me what you’d need to be free. Give me the number.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Trying to buy me, Roark?”

“Would it work?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“Then it seems I have no choice but honesty.” Looking down at her, he stroked her cheek. “I want you to leave New York. With me.”

To leave … with Roark?

Her heart was pounding as she whispered, “Why would I want to do that?”

“I’m tired of trying to forget you, Lia,” he said softly. “Tired of chasing you in my dreams.” He stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb. “I want you with me. And since I can’t stay, you must come.”

“Roark, this is crazy. We can’t stand each other—”

He stopped her with a kiss. At the seductive, powerful touch of his lips, his arms wrapped around her as he held her tight against his chest. The floor of her office swayed beneath her feet. When he finally pulled away, she felt so dazed that all she knew was that she wanted to stay in his arms for the rest of her life.

Stay in his arms for the rest of her life?!

What was wrong with her? She hated Roark! He’d destroyed her family. Was she going to give him the opportunity to ruin her baby’s life as well?

Where was her loyalty?

Where was her sanity?

And if he knew about the baby, he’d never forgive her. He might even try to take Ruby away from her….

“No, thanks,” she said stiffly, stepping back a safe distance. “I’m not interested in traveling with you. I like being home. And in case you’ve forgotten, we have absolutely nothing in common except rose gardens and broom closets.”

“Lia—”

“Just go, Roark,” she said, turning away even as her heart ached beneath the weight of her longing. “My answer is no.”

He stood silently for a moment, then turned on his heel. She heard him talk to Sarah, who’d no doubt been listening breathlessly to every word. Lia’s cheeks flamed. She’d likely even heard Roark kiss her!

She heard him say in his most charming, seductive voice, “Sarah, how much money does your boss need to finish the Olivia Hawthorne park?”

“About twenty million,” the girl said cagily. “Ten mil for landscaping, another ten mil as capital for our pledged part of future upkeep.”

“I’d really love to see the park.” Roark paused. “If someone would just show me the park, I’d be willing to donate twenty million dollars to cover all expenses. For the sake of the children of New York.” Lia felt his eyes on her and flushed. He continued smoothly, “I just need someone to show me what I’m paying for. And maybe share some lunch. Twenty million dollars for lunch and a tour. Does that seem a fair deal to you, Sarah?”

The girl nearly fell out of her chair.

“I’ll get my coat,” she gasped out. “I’ll show you everything, Mr. Navarre. I’ll serve you lunch personally. Even if it takes all night—I mean, all day.”

Suddenly Lia’s irritation exploded, although she couldn’t exactly say why. Letting Sarah go in her place would have been a perfect solution to his obvious manipulation. And yet she couldn’t allow it.

Not because she was jealous, she told herself. She just wanted to make sure he actually paid up the twenty million dollars!

“It’s all right, Sarah. I’ll do it,” Lia bit out, grabbing her coat and handbag. She bared her teeth in a smile at Roark. “I’ll be delighted to show you the park.”

“I’m flattered.”

“For twenty million dollars, I would have lunch with the devil himself!”

As Sarah sighed in obvious disappointment, Roark gave Lia a sharply possessive smile, and she knew this had been his intended outcome all along. “Let’s go.”

“I won’t be your mistress, Roark,” she whispered as they left the building. “I’ll give you a tour of the park. I’ll even treat you to lunch. But you’re nothing to me but a big fat wallet. I look at you and see sprinklers and playground equipment, nothing more!”

“I appreciate your honesty.” He stopped her on the sidewalk. “So let me return the favor.”

He gave her a cheeky grin, rubbing the back of his head. His gorgeous, thick, full black hair. She remembered how silky it had felt in her hands last night when his head had been between her legs. Her cheeks went hot.

He looked down at her. As people hurried past them on the sidewalk, she didn’t hear car horns honking. She didn’t see anything but his handsome face.

Scattered snowflakes tumbled from white clouds moving swiftly across the bright blue sky.

“I have everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said quietly. “Money. Power. Freedom. I’ve had everything any man could want. Except one thing. One dream that keeps slipping through my fingers. And I’m not going to let it get away this time.”

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Don’t you know?” He took her face in his hands, looking down into her eyes with such fierce intensity it almost broke her heart. “It’s you, Lia.”