Читать книгу Billionaires: The Tycoon - Julia James, Catherine Mann - Страница 17

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘YOU ACTED...’

Conall’s words trailed off and Amber didn’t prompt him. She didn’t want to talk and she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She didn’t want to do anything except lie here and go over what had just happened, second by glorious second. To remember the way he’d kissed her. The way he’d pushed deep inside her—and then the growing awareness of her body’s reaction, which had seemed too good to be true. Only it hadn’t been. It had been very real and very true. Conall Devlin had made love to her and it had been perfect. She expelled a long, slow breath of satisfaction. Suddenly she could understand all the fuss and hype and everything which went with it. Sex was pretty potent stuff.

But then when it was over, he had withdrawn from her without even looking at her. He had just rolled over onto his back and lain there staring at the ceiling in complete silence. As if he was working out what he was going to say, and something told her she wasn’t going to like it...

She was right.

‘You acted like you’d been round the block a few times—and then some,’ he accused.

She risked a glance at him then and almost wished she hadn’t because it triggered off a craving to touch him again and that was the last thing he wanted, judging from the stony look on his face. You haven’t done anything wrong, she told herself. And he can only make you feel bad about yourself if you let him.

‘You’re objecting to the fact I was a virgin?’ she questioned, in a voice which was surprisingly calm. Maybe it was the endorphins rushing through her bloodstream which were responsible—making her feel as if she were floating in the sea, in bright sunshine. ‘And you’re objecting to the fact that I hadn’t been around the block, is that what you’re saying?’

He turned to look at her, his eyes gleaming in his tawny skin. ‘What do you think? You knew what the deal was, Amber.’

‘Deal?’ she echoed. She raised her eyebrows. ‘What deal was that?’

‘I told you it was a one-night stand!’ he exploded.

‘And virgins aren’t allowed to have one-night stands?’

‘Yes. No! Stop wilfully misunderstanding me!’

‘I’m confused, Conall. You still haven’t told me why you’re so angry.’

He glared at her. ‘You know damned well why.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘There’s an unspoken rule about sex—that if you’re inexperienced, you tell the man.’

‘Why? So that you could be “gentle” with me?’

‘So that I could have turned around and walked right out again.’

‘Because you didn’t want me?’

Conall steeled himself against that uncertain note in her voice, reminding himself that she was a consummate actress. She’d played the vamp to an astonishingly successful degree and had fooled him completely. He’d fantasised about all the sexual tricks she might have learnt over the years. He’d been expecting accomplishment and slickness—not for her to cry out like that when he tore through her hymen. Or to clutch at him like a child with a new toy when he was deep inside her. That wonder on her face had not been feigned, he realised grimly.

‘You know I wanted you. My body is programmed to want you. It’s a reaction outside my control.’

‘Gee. Thanks.’

He shook his head. ‘The first time is supposed to be special. It’s supposed to mean something and if I’d realised, I would have done the decent thing and walked away. But you weren’t prepared to let that happen, were you, Amber? You saw something and you just went right ahead and took it because that’s the kind of woman you are. Even though you must have known it would never have happened if I’d realised you were a virgin. But Amber always gets what Amber wants, doesn’t she?’

‘If that’s what you want to think, then think it,’ she said.

‘I just don’t understand why.’ He frowned. ‘How come someone who looks like you and acts like you has never actually had sex before now?’

Amber met the anger in his eyes and wondered how much to tell him. But what was the point in holding back—in trying to pretend that she was a normal woman who’d led a normal life?

‘Because I don’t really like men,’ she said slowly. ‘And I certainly don’t trust them.’

‘Which is why you put out for someone you only met a couple of weeks ago, who hasn’t even taken you out on a date?’

Put like that, it made her sound plain stupid. As if she’d been caught scraping the very bottom of the barrel. Amber felt her cheeks growing hot, but she could hardly blame him for speaking the truth—even if it made her feel bad. And was she really going to let him take the moral high ground, just because she hadn’t given some embarrassingly graphic explanation before he’d made love to her? Why would she ruin the mood and risk spoiling something which had felt so natural?

‘I’m sure your colossal ego doesn’t need me to tell you why I succumbed to you. You must realise that you’re overwhelmingly attractive to women, Conall. I’m sure you’ve heard it many times before. It must be that blend of Irish charm coupled with a masterful certainty that you always know best.’ She snuggled down a little further into the bedclothes, but her skin still felt like ice. ‘It must be great to have that kind of unshakeable confidence.’

‘We were talking about you, not me,’ he growled. ‘And you still haven’t given me an explanation.’

‘Do I have to?’

‘Don’t you think you owe me one?’

‘I don’t owe you anything.’

‘Okay, then. How about as a favour to me for having given you so much pleasure in the last hour?’

Amber swallowed as she met the arrogant glitter in his eyes. In a way it was easier when he was being hateful because at least that stopped her from fostering any dreamy illusions about him. And she realised that this was the other side of intimacy—not the sex part but the bit where two people were naked in more ways than one. Because for once she couldn’t run or hide from the truth. She felt exposed; vulnerable. Conall was demanding an explanation and in her heart she guessed she owed him one.

‘Maybe it’s because I didn’t have the best role models in the world,’ she said.

‘You’re talking about your father?’ he questioned curiously.

‘Not just my father. There were plenty of others. My mother’s lovers, for starters.’

‘There were a lot?’

‘Oh, yes—you could say that.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘After my parents split, my father gave my mother loads of alimony—I think he was trying to ease his conscience about falling in love with a new woman. With hindsight it was probably a big mistake—because money buys you plenty of things, but not happiness. The biggest cliché in the world, I know, but true.’ Amber was aware of the irony of her words. As if it had taken this to make her see things clearly. Because hadn’t she experienced the closest thing she’d felt to joy in a long time when she’d been walking in that country lane that afternoon? And then just a few minutes ago, when Conall’s naked skin had touched hers and he’d taken her to heaven and back? Only one of those things had cost her...and it couldn’t be measured in monetary terms.

‘So what happened?’ he asked, his deep Irish voice penetrating her thoughts.

‘My mother couldn’t face staying in England with the humiliation of being replaced by wife number four, who was much younger—as well as being a lingerie model. So she decided to do an extensive tour of Europe—which translated into an extensive tour of European men. The trouble was that she was divorced and predatory, with a child in tow. Not the best combination to help her in her ardent pursuit of a new partner.’ She shifted her legs beneath the duvet, taking care to keep them well away from his. ‘Oh, there were plenty of men—but the men always seemed to come with baggage, usually in the shape of a wife. We were hounded out of Rome, and Athens, too. We were threatened in Naples and had to slip away in the dead of night. Only in Paris did she achieve any kind of acceptance because there the role of mistress is more or less accepted. Only she didn’t like playing second fiddle to other men’s wives, and...’ Her words tailed off.

‘And what?’

A wave of indignation swept over her as she met the hard glitter of his sapphire eyes. Why was he doing this? Interrogating her like some second-rate cop. Was he determined to ruin the amazing memory of what had just happened between them by making her retrace a past it was painful to revisit?

‘I’m waiting, Amber,’ he said softly.

Stubborn, hateful man. Amber stared straight up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she said woodenly. ‘She died, okay? I was brought back to England, kicking and screaming, and moved in with my father, who by that time was on wife number five. I didn’t fit in anywhere—and I knew his latest wife didn’t want me there. To him, I was a problem he didn’t know how to cope with, so he just threw lots of money at it. I started doing loads of courses but only the ones he thought were suitable and, of course, I never saw them through. I didn’t know how to deal with normal life—and I’d known so many creepy men when I was growing up that I simply wasn’t interested in getting intimate with any of my own.’

‘I see.’

Amber pulled the duvet right up to her neck— noticing he didn’t object—before rolling on her side to face him. ‘And what do you see, Conall?’

He gave a short laugh. ‘I can see now why your father was so determined he help you escape from the rut you were in. I detected a sense of remorse in his attitude—a sense that he wanted to try to repair some of the mistakes he’d made in the past. He must have realised that giving you money was having precisely the wrong effect, and that’s why he withdrew your funds.’

‘Wow. You should be a detective!’

‘But you didn’t like being broke, did you, Amber?’ he continued silkily. ‘You didn’t like having to knuckle down and do a hard day’s work like the rest of the human race.’

‘I thought I did a good job for you tonight with the Prince!’ she defended, stung.

He nodded reluctantly. ‘Oh, you did,’ he said. ‘He was very impressed with you and who wouldn’t be, with your classy dress and your pearls? And, of course, the fact that you were gazing up at him on the dance floor and batting those witchy green eyes certainly didn’t do you any harm. But I guess you quickly discovered that he wasn’t interested in you and so that quicksilver mind of yours had to come up with an alternative plan.’

‘Really? And what plan was this, Conall? Do enlighten me—this is absolutely fascinating.’

‘I think I can understand why you were a virgin,’ he said slowly. ‘With a mother who was sexually voracious, you must have realised that virginity is the most prized gift a woman can offer a man. It’s unique. A one-off.’

‘You’ve lost me now,’ she said faintly.

‘Think about it. Because despite your lack of qualifications, you’re a super-sharp woman, Amber. You know damned well what I’m talking about. You played the vamp with me. You realised there was real chemistry between us and that all I wanted was casual sex. It was a grown-up agreement between two consenting adults when suddenly you spring this surprise on me. You’re a virgin! Though when I stop to think about it, maybe it isn’t so surprising after all.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Take a previously wealthy woman with nothing to offer but her innocence—and throw her into the arms of an old-fashioned man with a conscience and the result is predictable.’

‘What result?’

Despite their cold hue, his eyes suddenly looked as if they were capable of scorching her skin.

‘It doesn’t matter—at least, not right now,’ he said, his mouth twisting into a grim line. ‘What an impetuous fool I was to have taken you to bed!’

‘Then why don’t you do us both a favour and get out of it right now?’

She wasn’t expecting him to take her at her word, but he did—pushing back the bedclothes with an impatient hand and moving away from the bed as if it were contaminated. But the impact of seeing him unselfconsciously naked as he walked across the room was utterly compelling and Amber couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away. He went to stand by the window and all she could see was his magnificent physique, silhouetted against the gleaming moon and scattered stars. And all she could think about was how pale his buttocks looked against the deep tawny colour of his back. How it had felt to have the rough power of his muscular legs entwined with her own, which had felt so light and smooth in comparison.

Only he had made her feel bad about what had happened—and bad about herself. As if she were using her virginity as some kind of bargaining tool. As if she were nothing but a cold-blooded manipulator.

So why did she still want him, despite his wounding words? Why did she want to feel his lips on her lips and his hands on her hips as he positioned himself over her, before thrusting deep inside her? Maybe she was one of those women who were only turned on by men who were cruel to them, just like her mother.

She licked her dry lips. ‘Are you going now?’ she croaked, because surely it would hurt less if he was gone.

He turned back to face her and at once she could see that he was aroused and, although she tried not to react, something in her face must have given away her thoughts because he gave a cold, hard smile.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said ruefully. ‘I still want you, be in no doubt about that. Only this time I’m not going to be stupid enough to do anything about it.’ Grabbing his clothes, he started pulling them on until he was standing in the now-creased suit he’d worn to the party.

‘I’m going to bed,’ he continued. ‘I need to sleep on this and decide what needs to be done. I’ll have breakfast sent up here tomorrow morning and then drive you back to London. Make sure you’re ready to leave at eight.’

Amber shook her head. ‘I don’t want to drive back to London with you,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the train, like I did before.’

‘It’s not a subject which is open for negotiation, Amber. You and I need to talk, but not now. Not like this.’

She lay there wide-eyed after he’d gone, hugging her arms around her chest. And although she went to the bathroom to shower his scent from her skin, it wasn’t so easy to erase him from her memory and her night was spent fitfully tossing and turning.

She was up and dressed early next morning, telling herself she wasn’t hungry but it seemed her body had other ideas. She devoured grapefruit, eggs and toast with an appetite which was uncharacteristically hearty, before going downstairs to find Conall waiting outside for her with his car engine running.

She tried not to look at him as she climbed beside him and she kept communication brief, but he didn’t object to her silence and said very little on the journey back to London. She stared out of the window and thought about yesterday and how green the lush countryside had seemed—and how today it seemed like a once-bright balloon from which all the air had escaped.

He drove her straight to her apartment and as he turned off the engine she couldn’t resist a swipe.

‘Here we are—home at last,’ she said with bright sarcasm. ‘Though not for much longer, of course, because soon my big, bad landlord will be kicking me out onto the streets.’

‘That’s what I want to talk to you about,’ he said, pushing open his door.

‘You’re not planning on coming in?’

‘No, not planning,’ he said grimly. ‘I am coming in. And there’s no need to look so horrified, Amber—I’m not going to jump on you the moment we get inside.’

Oddly enough, his assurance provided Amber with little comfort. Was it possible that one episode of sex had been enough to kill his desire for her for ever? Because the man who had been so hot and hungry for her last night was deliberately keeping his distance from her this morning.

She waited until they were inside and then she turned to him, noticing the dark shadows around his eyes. As if he had slept as badly as her. ‘So. What’s the verdict?’

His mouth was unsmiling and his voice was heavy. ‘I think we should get married.’

Amber blinked in astonishment and, even though she knew it was insane, she couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of hope which had started dancing at the edges of her heart. She pictured clouds of confetti and a lacy dress, and a rugged face bending down to kiss her. She swallowed. ‘You do?’

‘Yes.’ Navy eyes narrowed. ‘I know it’s far from ideal but it seems the only sensible solution.’

‘I think I need to sit down,’ said Amber faintly, sinking onto one of the white leather sofas beneath the penetrating brilliance of his gaze. And now that her heart had stopped pounding with a hope she realised was stupid, she tried to claw back a little dignity. ‘Whatever gave you that idea that I would want to marry you?’

His gaze burned into her. ‘Didn’t it enter your mind for a moment that giving me your virginity would trouble my conscience? I feel a responsibility towards you—’

‘Then don’t—’

‘You don’t understand,’ he interrupted savagely. ‘I have betrayed the trust of your father by taking advantage of you.’ His voice hardened. ‘And trust is a very big deal to me.’

‘He won’t know. Nobody will know.’

‘I will know,’ he said grimly. ‘And the only way I can see of legitimising what has just happened is to make you my temporary wife.’

She stared at him defiantly. ‘So you want to marry me just to make yourself feel better?’

‘Not entirely. It would have certain advantages for you, too.’

She opened her mouth and knew she shouldn’t say what she was about to say—but why not? He’d seen her naked, hadn’t he? He’d been deep inside her body in a way that nobody else had ever been. He’d heard her cry out her pleasure with that broken kind of joy as she’d wrapped her legs around his back. What did she have to lose? ‘What, like sex?’

But he shook his head, his hair glinting blue-black in the watery spring sunshine. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Most emphatically not sex. I don’t want the complications of that. This will purely be a marriage of convenience—a short-lived affair with a planned ending.’

She screwed up her eyes, trying not to react. One brief sexual encounter and already he’d had enough of her? ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, desperately trying to hide the hurt she felt at his rejection.

He walked over to the window and stared out at the view for a moment before turning back to face her. ‘Your father wanted you to stand on your own two feet—and as a wealthy divorcee you’ll be able to do exactly that.’

‘A wealthy divorcee?’ she echoed hoarsely.

‘Sure. What else did you think would happen—that twenty-five years down the line we’d be toasting each other with champagne and playing with the grandkids?’ He gave a cynical smile. ‘We’ll get married straight away—because a whirlwind marriage always makes a gullible world think it’s high romance.’

‘But you don’t, I suppose?’

His mouth hardened. ‘I’m a realist, Amber—not a romantic.’

‘Me, too,’ she lied.

‘Well, that makes it a whole lot easier, doesn’t it? And you know what they say...marry in haste, repent at leisure. Only nowadays there’s no need to do that. We’ll split after three months and nobody will be a bit surprised. I’ll settle this apartment on you and agree to some sort of maintenance. And if you want my advice, you should use the opportunity to go off and do something useful with your life—not go back to your former, worthless existence. Your father will see you blossom and flourish with your new-found independence. He’s hardly in a position to berate you for a failed marriage—and my conscience will be clear.’

‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’ she said slowly.

‘I deal in solutions.’ His gaze drifted to her face. ‘What do you say, Amber?’

She looked away, noticing a red wine stain on the white leather of the sofa as he waited for her answer. The trouble was that on some level she wasn’t averse to marrying him and she wasn’t quite sure why. Was it because she felt safe and protected whenever he was around? Or because she was hoping he’d change his mind about the no-sex part? Surely a virile man like Conall wouldn’t be prepared to coexist platonically with a woman—no matter how fake or how short their relationship was intended to be.

And look what he was offering in return. At least as a divorcee she would have a certain respectability. A badge of honour that someone had once wanted her enough to marry her...

Except that he didn’t. Not really. He didn’t love her and he didn’t want her.

That old familiar feeling of panic flooded through her. It felt just like that time when she’d been shipped off to her dad’s after her mother had died. He hadn’t wanted her, either, not really—and neither did Conall. It was a grim proposition to have to face until she considered the alternative. No money. No qualifications. No control. She swallowed. In an ideal world she would turn around and walk out, but where would she go?

Couldn’t this marriage be a stepping stone to some kind of better future?

‘Yeah, I’ll marry you,’ she said casually.