The Tycoon's Rebel Bride
Page 16Breathing became hard. She panted against his lips as their mouths met again.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
Helpless to do anything but follow the winding pleasure building so earnestly, she cried out as he stiffened above her. He gathered her softly against him, crushing her to his hardness. Murmured words fell against her ears, some she understood, some slipping away.
And then he collapsed, pressing his warm body to hers. For several long seconds, their ragged breathing was the only sound that filled the room.
Then he raised his head to stare down at her. He kissed her lightly then shifted, easing his body from hers. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched lazily from the bed while he strode nude to the bathroom and returned a moment later with a washcloth.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.
She sat up and reached for the cloth, but he held it out of her reach and then brushed it gently over her skin to clean her.
“No, you didn’t hurt me,” she returned quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There was no recrimination, no accusation in his voice.
“I wasn’t entirely certain you’d believe me.”
“And so you let me ravage you when you should have been handled gently? Made love to and cherished?”
There was genuine regret on his face. Not that he’d made love to her, if she had to guess, but for what he considered his rough treatment of her.
She reached out and touched his face, enjoying the feel of the slight stubble on his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me, Theron. It was perfect.”
He dropped the cloth on the floor and then framed her face in his hands. “No, it wasn’t perfect, but I can make it that way.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with a tenderness that made her chest ache. Desire fluttered deep within, awakening and unfolding, reaching out.
He took his time, lavishing kisses and caresses over every inch of her body. He murmured endearments and praise, each one landing in a distant region of her heart that she’d reserved only for him.
She soaked up each touch, each word like parched earth starved for water.
And when he cupped her to him, sliding carefully into her wanting body, she knew she’d never loved him more than she did at this moment. For so long she’d waited to have him like this. Focused on her, seeing her, touching her and loving her as she loved him.
This time he urged her to completion before taking his own, and only when she quivered with the last vestiges of her orgasm did he sink deeply within her and hold himself so tightly that she could feel the tension rippling through his body.
He dropped his forehead to hers, their lips just an inch apart as he dragged in deep breaths. She tilted her chin upward so that her nose brushed against his, and then their lips met in a sweet kiss that she felt to her soul.
“Better?” he murmured.
Theron woke to a sweet female form wrapped tightly around his body. As he opened his eyes and blew a tendril of dark hair from across his lips, he realized that Isabella was more draped across him than wrapped exactly.
Her br**sts were pressed to his chest, and one arm was thrown across his body possessively. Her limbs were tangled with his, and she slept soundly, her soft even breathing filling his ears.
Reality was swift to come, and with it, the weight of what he’d done. It wasn’t unexpected, this guilt and resignation. He could blame it on passion, lust—a whole host of things—but he knew the truth.
He’d wanted her and he’d taken her, and he’d certainly known what he was about in the heat of the moment. Not once in his thirty-two years had he ever lost all conscious thought when making love, and he wasn’t likely to start now.
He hadn’t even used a condom, and for the life of him he couldn’t dredge up a plausible excuse for his stupidity. It wasn’t even that he didn’t have one on him at the time. He lived his life in a state of preparedness, and he always had not one, but two condoms in his wallet.
And yet he hadn’t stopped to get one, hadn’t protected her, and worse, it had been a conscious decision. There was no one to blame in this whole mess but himself, and he damn well knew it.
Carefully, he extricated himself from her warm body. He tensed when she gave a soft little sigh, but then she snuggled back into the covers and settled down once more.
He strode to the bathroom to shower, aware that there would be consequences for his choices. Already he was mentally preparing and making plans. Through it all, there was an odd sense of peace instead of pained resignation.
Still, he dreaded all he had to do. And say.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked out of the bathroom and recovered the clothing he’d worn yesterday. Thankfully he always kept several changes of clothing at his office. That would be his first stop.
As he was pulling on his pants, Isabella stirred, her long hair sliding over her body as she turned and reached out her hand as though seeking him. His body tightened, and arousal hummed through his veins, a soft whisper that grew louder as he stared down at her.
She opened her eyes sleepily, blinking when she saw him. He reached down and touched her cheek, smoothing a stray strand of her hair from her skin.
“There are things I have to take care of, Bella. Important things.”
He bent and kissed her softly on the hair, and then without another word, turned and walked out of the bedroom.
Isabella stood beside the bed, wrapped in just the sheet, the ends clutched tightly in her hands. She glanced down at the discarded washcloth, at the evidence of her lost virginity, and felt an odd stirring deep in her chest.
Where had Theron gone? And would he be back? Or was she just the temptation that finally became too much, and he was rushing back to Alannis to make amends?
She closed her eyes and let her chin fall to her chest. She didn’t want to be the other woman. She didn’t like how it felt, didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s sorrow. But why should she place another’s over her own?
Feeling quiet sadness settle into her heart, she went into the bathroom to draw a hot bath. Part of her ached—a delicious ache—and she couldn’t help but close her eyes and remember every touch, every kiss and caress, the feel of his body sliding over hers.
She soaked until the water grew tepid, and finally, shivering, she rose from the tub and wrapped herself in a towel.
There was a listlessness to her she was unused to. There was too much unknown, unresolved, and she worried that it would remain so.
Growing disgusted with her lethargy, she forced herself to dress. She refused to sit in her hotel room holding her breath like a lovesick fool, waiting for a man who might never return.
First she’d eat and then she’d head to her apartment. Her new furniture had been delivered, and Theron had arranged someone to stock all the necessities. She would go over and make a list of anything else she needed, and then maybe it was time to start thinking about what she was going to do with the rest of her life.
Reynolds actually smiled in return as he stepped inside. “Now, Ms. Caplan, you’re getting the hang of how things are supposed to be done. You make my job a lot easier when I know where you’re going and you aren’t running off at every turn.”
She made a face. “I truly am sorry I’ve been so much trouble. I think you’ll find me a lot more accommodating from now on.”
His amusement vanished, and he sobered as he studied her with questioning eyes. “I hope nothing has happened to upset you.”
For a moment she said nothing. And then with a halfhearted smile, she gestured toward the door. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
Theron settled wearily into the chair behind his desk and picked up the phone. Yet again, it would be the middle of the night in Greece, but he needed to have this conversation with Chrysander now so that he could go forward with his plans.
“Nai,” Chrysander barked in a sleepy tone.
“I’ve done a terrible thing,” Theron said.
“Theron?” Chrysander asked in a more alert tone. “What the devil are you doing calling at this hour. Again. And what terrible thing are you talking about? Are you in jail?”
Theron had to laugh at that. “No, I’m not in jail.”
“Then what is wrong?”
Theron rubbed his hand across his face. “I seduced Isabella.”
There was a long pause. “I’m not sure I heard that correctly,” Chrysander finally said. Then Theron heard him speak to Marley. “No, agape mou, nothing is wrong. Go back to sleep. It’s just Theron.” Then he came back to Theron. “Give me a moment to take this call in my office. Marley has been up all night with the baby.”
Theron waited patiently as he heard shuffling in the background and even a sound like Chrysander kissing Marley. A few moments later, Chrysander’s voice bled back over the line.
“Now tell me you didn’t do what I think you said you did,” Chrysander said dryly.
“I can’t do that. It’s worse, though.”
“Worse than you seducing a young woman under your care? I fail to see how it can get any worse.”
“She was a virgin, and I didn’t use protection.”
Theron cringed even as he said it. It was a conversation that made him sound sixteen years old confessing his sins to his father.
Chrysander cursed and blew out his breath. “Damn it, Theron, what in the world were you thinking? Okay, scratch that. You obviously weren’t thinking. That much is established. But what about Alannis? Were you not just telling me and Piers that you were marrying her? What were you doing in bed with Isabella? And Theos, without protection. Are you stupid?”
“And you were so careful with Marley?” Theron said defensively.
“I was in a relationship with Marley,” Chrysander growled. “I was not engaged to another woman, nor was she someone under my direct care. Theron, this goes beyond stupid.”
“I’m not engaged to another woman,” Theron said quietly. “I didn’t ask her to marry me.”
“You better back up and tell me the entire story,” Chrysander said wearily. “It’s obvious that you’ve got a huge mess on your hands. Start with the part where you didn’t ask Alannis to marry you.”
“I couldn’t do it,” Theron said with a sigh. “I arranged the night, had a party, the ring, the confetti—”
“Confetti? Who the hell has confetti for a marriage proposal?” Chrysander demanded, a thread of amusement in his voice.
“It added to the festive mood,” Theron defended. “Everything was there. The moment was there…and I couldn’t do it. I had my hand on the ring, the woman staring up at me, and then I let go of the box, and asked her to dance instead. We spent the evening celebrating her visit to New York instead of our impending nuptials.”
“So how did this lead to you taking Isabella’s virginity? Without protection,” he added dryly.
“I’ve admitted my stupidity. There’s no reason to keep beating me over the head with it,” Theron said irritably. “It happened after I hauled her out of the strip club.”
“You what?” Chrysander broke into laughter. “Theron, this is sounding more absurd all the time. Do I even want to know why someone you were supposed to be watching over was in a strip club?”
“It’s not important. What’s important is that afterward, I seduced Isabella. We slept together. Without protection. She was a virgin. That covers it.”
“Yes, I’d say it does,” Chrysander said.
There was another long silence and then Chrysander spoke again. “She was under our care. Our father agreed that the Anetakis family would always care for her should something happen to her father. You’re going to have to marry her, Theron.”
Adrenaline surged in Theron’s veins. “I don’t have to marry her, Chrysander. I’m going to marry her.”
Fifteen
I sabella shoved aside the heavy curtains draped over the large window facing the street. Her apartment was on the top floor, larger by half than the apartments on the lower levels, and it had a wonderful view of a small park across the street.
There was no shortage of joggers, people out walking dogs, and children supervised by their nannies or mothers. It was a small mecca in the middle of a crowded city where someone could go and enjoy a short escape.
Could she live here knowing the man she loved was close by, married to someone else? On the surface it sounded absurd. In a city this size, she could go an entire lifetime without running into Theron. Except…except he controlled her inheritance and contact would be inevitable.
She sighed. She really did like the apartment, but she wasn’t sure she could remain here.
The sound of her door opening didn’t alarm her. Reynolds had been left waiting when she’d only said she’d be a minute. He probably lost patience and was coming to collect her.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and yet she still couldn’t tear her gaze away from the scene below. Maybe it was the normalcy of it all—the promise of an ordered existence where agonizing emotions such as love and jealousy or despair didn’t dictate her every breath.
Firm hands took hold of her shoulders, skimming upward, eliciting a small gasp from her.
“Bella, pethi mou, are you all right? What are you doing here?”