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‘Lucas,’ she said shakily, trying to bite back the soft words of affection which were hovering on her lips.

He stilled as he searched her face. ‘It doesn’t hurt?’

‘No. It’s...it’s gorgeous.’

‘I’ve never done it without protection before,’ he husked. ‘Never.’

She couldn’t respond to his appreciative murmur because her eager body was short-circuiting her addled brain, making rational thought impossible as a second orgasm swept her up on a breathless wave. In fact there was no time to address his question until afterwards, when he had choked out his own pleasure and she could feel the sticky trickle of his seed running down her thigh in a way which felt deliciously intimate. Her heart was pounding and her skin was suffused with satisfied heat, but she forced herself to turn over to face the Manhattan skyline outside the window as she tried to get her muddled thoughts into some kind of order.

Because she could sense she was on the brink of something risky. Something which needed to be reined in and controlled. Yes, they’d just had the most amazing sex but in the middle of it hadn’t Lucas gloated about never having had unprotected sex before while she’d been getting all emotional about him? And that was the fundamental difference between them. He required sex and nothing more and so she needed to be vigilant about her emotions. To make sure she didn’t get sucked into a bubble of love and longing which would burst at the slightest provocation.

‘Tara,’ he said softly.

His finger was tracing a delicate path between her buttocks and she felt herself quiver in response. ‘What?’ she questioned, as casually as possible.

‘I suspect what we’ve just done has made you change your mind about us being lovers.’

His assurance was as unshakable as his arrogance and she wanted to tell him that, no, she hadn’t changed her mind at all. She wanted to declare that this had been another impetuous mistake which mustn’t be repeated. But she couldn’t keep running away from the consequences of her actions, could she? She couldn’t keep letting sex ‘happen’ and then act like a scared little girl afterwards.

What she wanted was impossible. Like most people she wanted what she’d never had—in her case a secure home and a child raised within a loving family—despite all her proud protestations to the contrary. Lucas had offered none of these things and, having heard about his own childhood, she could understand why. It didn’t matter that his parents hadn’t been his birth parents—what mattered was that they had lied and been cruel to him. His whole upbringing had been built on a web of deceit and had destroyed his trust in other people. No wonder he was such a commitment-phobe who had never wanted marriage. No wonder he sometimes seemed to view women as the enemy, because to him they were. His birth mother had sold him and his adopted mother had lied to him and condoned her husband’s violence towards him.

But he’d offered to support her and the baby, hadn’t he? He hadn’t said he wanted to be hands-on, but surely that was a start—a single block on which to build. She didn’t know what the future held—nobody did—but there was no reason why they couldn’t have a grown-up relationship within certain boundaries. Just so long as she didn’t start weaving unattainable fantasises—and maybe for that reason alone, she needed to maintain an element of independence.

So she turned over and touched her fingertip to his face, tracing it slowly along the outline of his sensual lips. ‘Yes, I’ll be your lover,’ she said. ‘But I’m not going to give up my role as housekeeper.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘Not at all. I need to work and that’s my job. Otherwise, what am I going to do all day while you wheel and deal—go out to lunch and have my nails painted?’ Her smile was serene as she met his disbelieving expression and she wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t enjoyed that small moment of triumph. ‘I’ve never had any desire to be a kept woman, Lucas, and I don’t intend to start now.’

CHAPTER TEN

SUNLIGHT CAME STREAMING in through the huge windows, bathing Tara’s body with a delicious glow, though the only thing she was really aware of was Lucas’s hand, which was splayed proprietorially over one breast, while the other was tucked possessively around her waist. But possessive was a misnomer and any sense she belonged to him was simply an illusion, she reminded herself fiercely. The touchy-feely-couldn’t-seem-to-keep-his-hands-off-her side of his character was just another feature of the fantastic sex they’d recently enjoyed. A physical reaction, that was all.

He was lazily stroking her nipple so that it was proud and aching, even though she had just gasped out one of the shuddering orgasms which had become so much a part of her daily life. Yet the crazy thing was that the man beside her felt as much of a stranger as he’d ever done—despite having told her about his childhood and despite having just been deep inside her body. Had she hoped that physical intimacy would automatically morph into mental intimacy? That the bond between them would grow stronger—maybe even unbreakable—the longer they spent together wrapped in each other’s arms like this?

Yes, she had. Guilty on all counts. But what did she know about such matters when he was her first and only lover? Her mentor, too. In the most delicious way possible, he had tutored her in every aspect of sex. He’d taught her how to uninhibitedly enjo

y her body and not to be shy about expressing her needs, but none of that seemed to have impacted on their relationship. Despite the physical closeness of sharing their bed each night and the often teasing banter they enjoyed much as before, nothing fundamental had changed within their relationship. Emotionally, at least, he was as detached as he had ever been.

Was that because, in spite of his obvious disapproval, she’d insisted in maintaining her role as his housekeeper—thus reinforcing the boss/employee dynamic which had always existed between them? She didn’t think so. What else was she going to do all day if she wasn’t cooking and cleaning—lie around in some cliché of a negligee waiting for Lucas to return from one of his business meetings? She would go out of her mind with boredom if she did that. Anyway, she didn’t have a negligee—cliched or otherwise—because somehow she still hadn’t got around to the shopping trip Lucas had suggested she take to avoid looking like ‘a screwball’.

‘Are you awake?’ His murmured voice was soft against her hair.

Her thoughts still full of fundamental insecurities, Tara nodded. ‘Mmm...’

The bedclothes rustled as he shifted, turning her round to face him so that their eyes were level and Tara prayed her face didn’t give away her feelings. Feelings she was trying desperately hard to hide, because she knew Lucas was no stranger to the emotion she and countless women before her had experienced...

She was falling for him. Falling deep and falling hard.

She was scared to use the word love but it was the only one which seemed appropriate to describe the see-sawing of her feelings and the great rush of joy which powered her heart whenever he walked into the room. When he kissed her she sometimes felt she could faint with pleasure and when he made love to her, her happiness threatened to spill over. It didn’t seem to matter how much she tried to deny what she was feeling, it made no difference. She wasn’t sure how it had happened. If it was because he’d taken her innocence and made her pregnant.

Or because, beneath his glossy patina of success, he was wounded and hurting inside and that made her want to reach out to protect him?

He lifted a strand of hair and wound it slowly around his finger and Tara was reminded of one of those fishermen back home—the way they used to slowly reel in their catch, before leaving the floundering fish gasping for air on the quayside.

‘You still haven’t been shopping,’ he observed.

‘I know.’ She shrugged her bare shoulders. ‘But I haven’t seemed to be able to find the time.’

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