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His gaze became flat and suspicious.
He probably thought she was asking about his views on the Durands’ marriage to add to her piece. Nothing could be further from the truth—she might write celebrity features, but she had her principles.
She had promised Cara Durand any conversation they had would be off the record, but her job provided the cover she needed to probe Brandon’s views on love and marriage.
He laughed, cynicism highlighting the gold shards in his irises. The dimple reappeared in his cheek, but his smile reminded her less and less of her baby girl. How could one man be so cynical, he would even doubt the sincerity of the Durands’ affection for each other?
‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Because whatever happened in Maxim’s past to make him so ruthless can never be changed.’
What happened to you, Brandon, to make you so ruthless and cynical too?
The question echoed in her head. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from asking it. But it didn’t stop the sympathy from pulsing in her chest.
‘And why would he want to change it?’ he added, his gaze searching her face, the heat as disturbing as the confidence in his own cynicism. ‘When those parts of his past have to be the reason he had the drive and ambition to build so much from absolutely nothing?’
‘But it’s obvious Maxim Durand loves his wifeandhis children more than anything else,’ she said. ‘Which suggests he would happily give up all his success rather than risk losing them,’ she finished, knowing she wasn’t talking about Maxim Durand any more.
People’s priorities changed when they had children. She could never have imagined loving anyone as much as she loved Ruby—from the minute she’d been born. She would always put Ruby’s needs first now, above everything. But it made her unbearably sad to realise Ruby’s father might well not have the capacity to do the same.
The truth was, as a nineteen-year-old, alone and pregnant, she hadn’t told him of his child’s existence because she’d been scared—not just of his power and what he might do, but also because of her own weakness. If he’d demanded she have an abortion, would she have been strong enough to insist on making her own choice?
Weirdly, though, his predictable responses to her questions weren’t helping her with the guilt one bit. Because now she felt sad for himandRuby. What if hecouldchange, as Maxim Durand had done, but she had denied him the opportunity to find out?
‘Spoken like a true romantic,’ he said, the obvious distain in his tone cutting deep. She wasn’t a romantic, she was a realist, because she’d had to be.
‘I never figured you people actually believed all the sentimental hogwash you publish about guys like me,’ he added.
He was laughing at her now, the harsh glint in his eyes as arrogant as it was cynical. The desire to wipe that smirk off his too-handsome face was irresistible.
‘Sentimental hogwash, huh? I had no idea you were such an avid reader ofSplendourmagazine,’ she managed, the tart reply going someway to cover the sympathy for him still pulsing in her chest.
He chuckled. ‘Not so much, but I’ve got to say, you’ve made me wonder if I’ve been missing out.’ His gaze intensified, but this time she didn’t just see heat, she saw approval. ‘You’re not at all what I expected.’
The surprise that she’d impressed him was swiftly followed by concern as the green fire in his eyes made her thigh muscles loosen and the hot spot in her belly throb.
‘And, while I don’t do clichés as a rule, I’ve got to admit you’re even hotter when you fight back, Lacey.’
His gaze locked on hers, the heat and purpose in it sizzling over her skin and making her nipples squeeze into aching peaks. But his approval was so much more intoxicating...and terrifying.
‘Hot enough to make me break my golden rule,’ he continued.
‘Which is?’ she asked, trying for indifference, but getting breathlessness instead.
‘Never to sleep with a woman who thinks she can change me.’
He cupped her cheek. She jolted, the rough texture of his thumb trailing over her lips, and the fiercely possessive light in his eyes, making it impossible for her to look away. Or get her lungs to function.
The lights from the chandeliers dimmed as the guests were directed into the adjoining salon to enjoy the special performance of the Paris Opera Ballet. But the two of them remained in the ballroom, cocooned in the darkness, suddenly alone in the cavernous space but for the staff. Lacey’s breathing accelerated, all the reasons why she shouldn’t let him touch her queuing up in her head, but her body refused to listen as his fingers curved around her neck and drew her towards him.
‘You really are exquisite,’ he said, his mouth lowering to hers, his scent filling her senses, her heart beating double time.
Why had she never felt like this with any other man? Was it just that Brandon Cade was the father of her child, the only man she had ever made love to? Or was it even more specific than that?
She placed trembling palms on his waist, her hands reaching inside his tuxedo jacket. His stomach muscles tensed.
‘Madame Laurent and Gigi will be pleased you think so,’ she said.
He laughed, the husky sound strained, the rich approval in his gaze as heady now as it had been once before.
