Читать книгу His Seductive Proposal: A Touch of Persuasion / Terms of Engagement / An Outrageous Proposal - Джанис Мейнард, Maureen Child - Страница 18

Olivia dropped the earrings on the table. “For bed or for sex?” She met his gaze squarely, no pretense, no games. Her big brown eyes were rich and dark, masking her secrets.

“I want to make love to you.” The words ripped his throat raw. He’d never said them to any woman.

Her face softened as if she read his inner turmoil. “I don’t expect you to change for me, Kieran. You are who you are. I am who I am. We’re two people who met at the wrong time and the wrong place. But we created a child and we have to put her first.”

When he stood rigid, torn between honesty and seduction, she came to him and held out her hand. “Let’s have tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”

He allowed himself to be persuaded. There was no choice, really. If he didn’t have Olivia one more time, he would die, incinerated by the fire of his own reckless passion.

This time, he vowed to give her tenderness. He’d been rough with her earlier, rough and earthy and carnal. What she deserved was a man who would worship at her feet.

He dropped to his knees, heart in his throat. Encircling her hips with his arms, he laid his head against her belly. She had carried his child, her lovely body rounded and large with the fruit of their desire. God, how he wished he had been with her, had been able to see her flesh expand and grow in lush, fertile beauty.

Her swollen breasts had nursed their baby. If life had played out differently, Kieran would have been there to watch. To be a part of something wonderful and new.

Regret was a futile emotion, one he’d learned a long time ago to push down into a dark, unacknowledged corner of his gut. The only important thing was the here and now. He lived for the moment… in the moment.

Olivia trembled in his embrace.

She stroked his hair. The light caress covered his skin in gooseflesh. What he felt for her hurt, reminding him of a dimly remembered anguish from his childhood. Women were soft and warm and wonderful. But loving them meant vulnerability. A man could not afford to let down his guard.

Without speaking, he snuggled her navel with his tongue, wetting the fabric of her dress. Carefully he bunched the cloth in his hands and lifted the long, slim skirt until he could see what had tantalized him all evening. A wispy pair of black lace panties, a thong, which explained why he’d thought she might be naked.

Despite his vow of gentleness, he gripped the thin bands at either side of her ass and ripped the fragile undergarment. It fell away, exposing her intimate feminine flesh.

Her smooth, honey-skinned thighs were scented with the distinctive perfume he’d come to recognize as her favorite.

Olivia tugged at his hair. “You’re embarrassing me,” she whispered. “Quit staring.”

He stood abruptly and scooped her into his arms. “Whatever the lady wants.” As he strode with her into the bedroom, Olivia nestled her head against his shoulder. The trust implicit in her posture dinged his conscience. He had failed her once before. This time he had to do what was right. He wanted the world to know he was Cammie’s father, but if Olivia truly believed that was a mistake, Kieran might be forced to humble his pride and step back.

Retreat had never been his style. But for Olivia, he would try.

Beside the bed he stood her on her feet and, without ceremony, removed her dress. She stepped out of her shoes and put her cheek to his chest, hands on his shoulders. “Thank you for bringing me to New York,” she whispered. “I think we needed this… for closure. I didn’t want bad feelings between us.”

He ignored her comments that intimated a swift and unwelcome end to their physical relationship. “Let me love you,” he said hoarsely, the “L” word rolling more easily from his lips this time. “Lie down, Olivia.”

Stripping off his clothes, he joined her on the bed. When she held up her arms, he couldn’t decide if the smile on her face was a lover’s welcome or the erotic coaxing of a siren, luring a man to doom.

Foreplay wasn’t even an option. That had gone up in smoke during a four-course dinner with Olivia sitting across from him wearing a dress designed to turn a man’s brain to mush. He found a condom, rolled it on and moved between her legs.

Their eyes met. As he entered her slowly, her lashes widened. Her breath caught. Her throat and upper chest flushed with color. He put his forehead to hers, filled with a maelstrom of inexplicable urges.

Half a millennium ago, he would have slain dragons for her, might even have used his travels to bring home chests of gold and jewels. But Olivia didn’t want the knight on the white charger. She was looking for a more stable fellow, perhaps the village miller or the town carpenter.

If Kieran truly wanted to make her happy, he would head out on his next crusade and leave her to build a life between the castle walls. Without him.

The room was silent save for their mingled breathing. He moved in her so slowly that her body seemed to clasp him and squeeze on every stroke. It was heaven and hell. Giving a man what he hadn’t known he needed and in the next breath reminding him that the gift had an expiration date.

He braced most of his weight on his arms, but his hips pressed against hers, pinning her to the mattress. Her hair, fanned across the pillows, made an erotic picture that seared into his brain, never to be forgotten.