Читать книгу Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire: The Innocent's Dark Seduction / Count Maxime's Virgin / Untamed Billionaire, Undressed Virgin - Jennie Lucas, Anna Cleary - Страница 21

WITHIN an hour of landing on the beautiful Hawaiian paradise of Kauai, Lia knew she’d just arrived in hell.

Warm tropical winds swayed the palm trees above the tarmac. Lia had never been to Hawaii before, but it was lovely. The morning was fresh and bright as the dawn broke over the eastern hills. She took a deep breath, cuddling her baby as she descended the steps from the plane.

Two convertible Jeeps waited for them. Roark approached her, his eyes glittering and bright. For a moment she thought he meant to say something to her, but he only took Ruby from her arms and snapped the sleeping baby into the car seat in the back of the first Jeep.

“Come with us,” he invited Mrs. O’Keefe. “I’m driving this one.”

But he didn’t say a word to Lia.

It was like a stab to her heart. And there was no way she was going to be left in the second car with the bodyguards and other staff. Raising her chin, she defiantly climbed into the back seat of Roark’s Jeep, next to Ruby. She waited for him to insult her or tell her to leave.

He did something worse.

He ignored her. As if she wasn’t there. As if she was a ghost.

Mrs. O’Keefe climbed into the front passenger seat. With a smile at her, Roark started the car and drove north on the narrow highway that twisted along the coast. The intense, fierce, demanding billionaire looked so different in this light. He wore a white T-shirt that revealed the hard-muscled shape of his body, casual jeans and sandals.

Lia had changed clothes, as well, into a tiny knit halter dress and high-heeled sandals that she’d brought in her suitcase, that she’d foolishly hoped might please him. But he hadn’t even looked at her.

He was now speaking courteously to Mrs. O’Keefe, pointing out the sights as they traveled through quaint little surfing towns clinging to the edges of white sand beaches and rocky cliffs.

Mrs. O’Keefe glanced back at Lia several times, as if struggling to make sense of the obvious tension between the newly married couple. Lia shook her head with a smile she didn’t feel, then tucked back her wind-tossed hair behind her ear as she stared out at the Pacific Ocean.

They passed resorts, pineapple stands and tiny Hawaiian villages. As they traveled north, the land became more lushly green. The coastline became more wild.

Wild and rocky like Lia’s breaking heart.

Mrs. O’Keefe eventually fell asleep, lulled by the roar of the sea and the hum of the Jeep’s engine. Roark drove silently, looking straight ahead.

Lia stared at the back of his head. Tears welled in her eyes once again. She yearned for him to glance at her in the mirror. To yell at her. To insult her. Anything.

Anything but ignore her.

By the time they arrived at the large estate an hour later, Lia’s heart had turned to stone in her chest. The caravan pulled through a gate, past a guardhouse into a private lane that led to a gorgeous estate. She saw an enormous, palatial beach house. She saw koi ponds edging a wraparound lanai and elegant, slender palm trees waving in the clear blue sky.

Roark stopped the Jeep in front of the beach house. He turned off the engine and walked around the other side of the truck, passing by Lia without a single glance.

He opened the front passenger door. “Mrs. O’Keefe,” he whispered, shaking her gently on the shoulder. “Wake up. We’re here.”

The Irishwoman woke up and nearly gasped when she saw the tropical estate. “It’s beautiful! This is your home?”

“For a few days.” Roark unbuckled his sleeping baby from the car seat and tenderly took her in his arms, holding her against his strong chest.

Lia’s heart ached with the vision of seeing their daughter held so lovingly in Roark’s arms. How long had she yearned for just this moment? Since she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d wished she could give her daughter a father. A home.

And now, seeing their baby held this way by Roark made her want to weep. It was the fulfillment of one dream.

But never once had Lia thought if that dream came true, another cherished dream would die.

She’d been married twice. Her first husband had wed her out of obligation; her second husband had wed her to punish her. She would never know what it felt like to really love a man and be loved by him in return.

One dream gained; the other gone forever.

Or was it?

Was there any way he might someday forgive her? Any way to earn back his trust?

“The housekeeper will show you to your room,” Roark said to Mrs. O’Keefe.

“Shall I put the baby to bed, Mr. Navarre?” the nanny replied. “She hardly got any sleep on the plane …”

He shook his head, then glanced down at his sleeping daughter with a smile. “I’ll put her to bed. I’ve never gotten the chance to do it before.”

Lia could hear the blame in his voice, even though he didn’t look at her.

He greeted the waiting housekeeper and staff with a few brief words, then passed them through the sliding door.

Leaving Lia behind without a single glance or word.

A hard lump formed in her throat as she slowly followed her husband and child inside. She really was starting to question her own existence, so she nearly jumped when the housekeeper greeted her, “Aloha, Mrs. Navarre.”

“Aloha,” Lia sighed, looking around her in amazement. “This place is beautiful. I didn’t even know that Roark had a home in Hawaii.”

The housekeeper cleared her throat. “Actually, this vacation house belongs to Paolo Caretti. They’re friends. He loaned it to Mr. Navarre.”

“Oh.” Of course. Of course this house didn’t belong to Roark. Even a place as incredible as this couldn’t tempt Roark to want to settle down. Her husband only liked to create buildings that he sold to others. Then he always moved on.

And whatever she might wish, he probably wouldn’t stick around long enough to raise Ruby, either. Even if he loved his daughter, he would still leave her. Because that’s just how a man like Roark lived—with no commitments. Neither to places nor to people.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Perhaps it was a good thing to remind herself of that, then. She’d already started to fall for him hard. She’d felt her heart break at the stark pain in his eyes when he’d spoken about losing his family. She’d felt her body explode with joy when he’d made love to her at the hotel penthouse.

So having him ignore her was a kind of gift, wasn’t it? It would keep her from loving him. Wouldn’t it?

She went inside the front door and saw a man-made waterfall that flowed into an indoor pond. Glancing down at the pond, she saw orange and gold fish swimming beneath the water. She walked though the Japanese-influenced design and modern architecture, crossing the pyinkado hardwood floors and through the shoji sliding doors.

She followed the sound of his footsteps through the cool, darkened house. She stopped in the doorway of a nursery and watched as he carefully set their sleeping baby down in a sleek, simple crib, still holding her cuddly blanket and wearing her soft knit clothing set.

“Do you need any help?” she whispered, because she couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“No.” He spoke without looking at her. “Your room is down the hall. I’ll show you.”

After hours and hours of silence, he’d finally acknowledged her presence! That was something, wasn’t it? In spite of everything, she felt a tiny flame of hope in her heart as she followed him down the hallway.

He pushed open the sliding doors and revealed a large bedroom with a balcony overlooking the private beach. Sunlight sparkled over the bright blue Pacific like waves of diamonds over sapphires.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said.

“Yes.”

She felt him put his hands on her shoulders.

Questions trembled on her lips. Roark, can you forgive me? Can you change your wandering soul and stay with us?

But she didn’t dare ask the questions because she feared his answers. She closed her eyes as a breeze blew in from Hanalei Bay, warm against her skin. His body pressed against her back.

“It’s time for bed,” he said in a low voice.

The intent in his voice was unmistakable. Was it possible that he’d realized why she’d kept Ruby a secret and forgiven her? That he wanted and desired her as he had in New York—with a simple fierce longing that had led him to ask her to travel with him around the world?

Roark turned her around in his arms and she saw the harsh truth in his dark eyes.

No.

He still hated her. But that wasn’t going to stop him from taking her body. He intended to coldly possess her.

And as he lowered his head to claim her lips in a fierce, bruising kiss, God help her but she couldn’t deny him what he wanted. The heat and force of his embrace overwhelmed her senses. As he stroked her body, untying the back of her halter dress and dropping it to the floor, her longing was so sharp it edged between pleasure and pain.

He lowered her to the enormous bed. He looked down at her. He pulled off his jeans and silk boxers. She heard the roar and crash of the surf outside their open window, the warm breeze blowing in the hibiscus-scented air.

Then he possessed her roughly, without tenderness. But as she gasped with the joyful force of her pleasure, she could have sworn she heard him whisper her name as if it was torn from deep within his soul.

They settled into a pattern of sorts over the next four days.

Busy with work, overseeing the extensive remodel and expansion of a luxury resort on Hanalei Beach, Roark ignored her during daylight hours.

In the evenings he would come home for an elegant dinner prepared by the mansion’s chef. He spoke courteously with the staff and pleasantly with Mrs. O’Keefe. His handsome dark features glowed as he played with Ruby and read her a story before putting her to bed. But it was as if Lia didn’t exist.

At least not until dusk.

She existed only to pleasure him in the dark. And every night it was the same. No tenderness. No words. Just a fiercely hot possession taken by an unloving lover.

Roark came home early one afternoon, and as usual it was as if Lia were invisible. Lia watched him play with the baby on the private white sand beach, helping Ruby make a sand castle. When it grew too hot, he cradled the baby against his tanned, naked chest and carried her into the ocean to feel the water against her skin.

For a moment, the baby looked nervous and glanced back at Lia, as if considering whether to cry and reach her arms for her mother.

“You’re all right, little one,” her father said to her softly. “You’re safe with me.”

Ruby looked up at him, and her expression changed. She didn’t cry for her mother after all. Instead, she clung to Roark, giggling as her toes splashed in the water.

No one could resist Roark Navarre for long.

Watching them, Lia, sitting alone on the beach in the perfect sunshine of a Hawaiian day, felt her heart break a little more.

He was punishing Lia. Cruelly. Deliberately taunting her with what she’d never have.

And what she was starting to realize that she desperately wanted.

His attention.

His affection.

His love.

Lia tried to tell herself that she didn’t care. The next day she went on a catamaran with Mrs. O’Keefe and Ruby, circling the island to see the sharp black cliffs of Na Pali, known as the Forbidden Coast. As the crew set up fresh pineapples, papaya and mango with chocolate croissants and a full breakfast, Lia sat with Ruby, who was wearing a baby-size life jacket. She stared out at the ocean.

Bottle-nosed dolphins followed in the wake of the boat, and in the distance she could see sea turtles swimming in the warm water. The brilliant Hawaii sun was hot against her skin. It was paradise.

It was hell.

Tonight I won’t let him take me, she promised herself.

But when he came to her that night after she’d fallen asleep, waking her with his lips against her mouth even as his hands reached beneath her nightgown to stroke her naked body, she trembled and obeyed.

Not because he forced her.

Because she could not resist.

Some nights he didn’t even bother to kiss her, but tonight he did. She heard the thwap-thwap-thwap of the ceiling fan above them as he pulled off her nightgown and panties in the darkness. She couldn’t see his face. She could only feel his hands, rough and seductive against her skin. She felt her body start to rise, even as her heart split in her chest.

“Please,” she cried hoarsely. “Please don’t do this to me.”

For answer, he kissed down her naked body, nuzzling her breasts. She felt the rough hair of his legs against hers, felt his hard muscles against her soft body. Her body cried out for his touch, like an addiction she couldn’t control.

Stroking her hips, he spread her legs and tasted between her thighs. Her breathing became shallow, quick gasps.

She wanted him. Wanted this. So much it was killing her.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

She wanted all of him.

She was in love with him. In love with the man who was so loving to their daughter. Who for one afternoon had been kind to her, as well.

She’d fallen in love with her tormentor. Wasn’t there a name for that?

Marriage.

“Please, just let me go,” she whispered. “Roark. Just let me go.”

A trick of moonlight traced his cruel, sensual mouth as he gave her a smile.

“You’re my wife. You belong to me.”

He thrust into her, and she gasped as her whole body arched to meet his with the shock of unwilling pleasure. And she knew she loved him. Wanted him. Wanted everything.

She loved a man who only wanted to punish her.

And as he left her to sleep alone, she knew she’d just lost herself, body and soul, in hell.

The next morning she was surprised to see him at the breakfast table. Drinking black coffee and reading a Japanese-language newspaper, he didn’t even bother to look up when she sat down across from him.

Then he said, “We’ll be leaving for Tokyo today.”

Leaving Hawaii? Lia should have been relieved. She should have been thrilled.

Instead she felt sad. These four days could have been a romantic honeymoon. A chance to make a wonderful memory as a family. Instead she would look back on their days in Kauai and remember only pain.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” she pleaded, ignoring the painful lump in her throat. “Couldn’t we at least stay here until …”

“We leave within the hour,” he said coolly. And, throwing the newspaper down on the glossy wood table, he left her to eat alone, and salt her own bitter coffee with tears.