A Tangled Affair (10 page)

Ten

L
ike quicksilver the irresistible pull of attraction was gone, replaced by wrenching hurt. “Just because I didn’t talk about marriage, that didn’t mean I thought it would never be on the agenda for us. And what is so wrong with that?”

Silence vibrated through the limousine. She saw Tiberio glance nervously in the rearview mirror. She turned her head to watch city traffic zip by and registered that her stomach felt distinctly hollow.

Glancing at her watch, she noted the time. She’d only had coffee for breakfast and it was after one. She would be eating lunch soon, which would fix the acid in her stomach, but she couldn’t wait that long. Fumbling in her purse, she took out the small plastic bag that contained a few antacid tablets and a couple of individually packaged biscuits. After unwrapping a slightly battered biscuit, she took a bite.

“Marriage is on the agenda now,” Lucas reminded her. “I need an answer.”

She hastily finished the biscuit and stuffed the plastic bag back in her purse.

Lucas watched her movements with an annoyed fascination. “Do you usually eat when marriage is being proposed?”

“I was hungry. I needed to eat.”

“I’ll have to remember that should I ever have occasion to propose again.”

She closed the flap on her purse. Maybe it was childish not to tell him that she had ended up with an ulcer, but it was no big deal and she was still hurt that he hadn’t ever bothered to check up on her after he had deposited her on the plane home from Thailand. The memory of his treatment of her, which had been uncharacteristically callous, stiffened her spine. “I don’t know why you want marriage now when clearly you broke up with me because you didn’t view me as ‘wife’ material.”

His gaze was unwavering, making her feel suddenly uncomfortable about giving him such a hard time.

“As it happens, you’ve always fulfilled the most important requirement.”

She was suddenly, intensely conscious of the warmth of his arm behind her. “Which is?”

Her breath seized in her throat as Lucas cupped her chin with his free hand. She had a split second to either pull back or turn her head so his mouth would miss hers. Instead, hope turned crazy cartwheels in her stomach, and she allowed the kiss.

Long, breathless minutes later he lifted his head. “You wanted to know why marriage is acceptable to me. This is why.”

His thumb traced the line of her cheekbone, sending tingling heat shivering across the delicate skin and igniting a familiar, heated tension. His mouth brushed hers again, the kiss lingering. The stirring tension wound tighter. Reflexively, she leaned closer, angling her jaw to deepen the kiss. Her hand slid around to grip his nape and pull him closer still.

When he finally lifted his head, his gaze was bleak. “Two months without you was two months too long. What happened on Medinos and in my apartment is a case in point. I want you back.”

Carla released her hold on his nape and drew back. Her mouth, her whole body, was tingling.

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but the hope fizzing inside refused to die a complete death.

Lucas had tried to end their relationship; it hadn’t happened. She hadn’t chased him. If he had truly wanted an end, she was in no doubt that he would have icily and clinically cut her out of his life.

He hadn’t been able to because he couldn’t resist her.

He might label what held them together as sex; she preferred to call it chemistry. There was a reason they were attracted to each other that went way beyond the physical into the area of personality and emotional needs. Despite their difficulties and clashes, at a deep, bedrock level she knew they were perfect for each other.

That they had continued their relationship for two years was further proof that whatever he either claimed or denied, for Lucas she was different in some way. She knew, because she had made it her business to check. Lucas was only ever recorded by the tabloids as having one serious relationship before her, a model called Sophie, and that had been something like five years ago. The fact that he wanted the marriage now, when a pregnancy was by no means certain, underlined just how powerfully he did want her.

It wasn’t love, but everything in her shouted that it had to be possible for the potent chemistry that had bound Lucas to her for the past two years to turn to love.

She was clutching at straws. Her heart was pounding and her stomach kept lurching. There was a possibility that Lucas might never truly love her, never fully commit himself to the relationship. There was a chance she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

But, risky or not, if she was honest, her mind had been made up the second she’d heard his announcement to the press.

She loved Lucas.

If there was a chance that he could love her, then she was taking it.

* * *

Lucas activated the privacy screen. When it opened, he leaned forward and spoke in rapid Medinian to Tiberio. He caught the skeptical flash of his chief bodyguard’s gaze in the rearview mirror as he confirmed that they would be making the scheduled stop at the jewelers.

However, the wry amusement that would normally have kicked up the corners of his mouth in answer to Tiberio’s pessimism was absent. When it came to Carla, he was beginning to share Tiberio’s doubts. She hadn’t said yes, and he was by no means certain that she would.

Carla, who was once again rummaging in her handbag, stiffened as the limousine pulled into the cramped loading bay of a downtown building. “This isn’t the restaurant.”

Lucas climbed out as Tiberio opened the door then leaned in and took Carla’s hand. “We have one stop to make before lunch.”

As Carla climbed out he noted the moment she spotted the elegant sign that indicated this was the rear entrance to the premises of Moore’s, a famous jeweler. A business that just happened to be owned by The Atraeus Group.

Her expression was accusing. “You had this all planned.”

“Last night you knew as well as I that the story would go to press.”

Her light blue gaze flashed. Before she could formulate an argument and decide to answer his proposal with a no, Lucas propelled her toward the back entrance.

Frustration welled that he hadn’t been able to extract an answer from her
and
that he couldn’t gauge her mood, but he kept a firm clamp on his temper. An edgy, hair-trigger temper that, until these past two weeks, he hadn’t known existed.

He offered her his arm and forced himself to patience when she didn’t immediately take it.

Clear, glacial-blue eyes clashed with his. “What makes you think I’m actually going to go through with this?”

Lucas noted that she stopped short of using the word
charade.
“I apologize for trying to bulldoze you,” he said grimly. “I realize I’ve mishandled the situation.”

He had used business tactics to try to maneuver Carla into an engagement. He had assumed that when he proposed marriage she would be, if not ecstatic, then, at least, happy.

Instead, she was decidedly
unhappy,
and now he was being left to sweat.

He acknowledged that he deserved it. If patience was now required to achieve a result, then he would be patient. “The ring is important. I need you to come inside and choose one.”

“I suppose we need one because we’ve been
secretly engaged
for two years, so of course you would have loved me enough to buy a ring.”

Ignoring Tiberio’s scandalized expression, he unclenched his jaw.
“Esattamente,”
he muttered, momentarily forgetting his English. “If you don’t have a ring, questions will be asked.”

“So the ring is a prop, a detail that adds credence to the story.”

The door popped open. A dapper gray-haired man, elegant in a dark suit and striped tie, appeared along with a security guard. “Mr. Atraeus,” he murmured. “Ms. Ambrosi. My name is Carstairs, the store manager. Would you like to come this way?”

Keeping his temper firmly in check, Lucas concentrated on Carla. If she refused the ring, he would arrange for a selection to be sent to his apartment and she could choose one there. What was important was that she accept his proposal, and that hadn’t happened yet. “Are you ready?”

Her eyes clashed with his again, but she took his arm.

Jaw clenched, Lucas controlled his emotions with a forcible effort. Fleetingly, he registered Tiberio’s relief, an exaggerated expression of his own, as he walked up the steps and allowed Carla to precede him into the building.

She would say yes. She had to.

The turnaround was huge, but now that he had made the decision that he wanted her in his life permanently, he felt oddly settled.

Like it or not he was involved, his feelings raw, possessive. Sexually, he had lost control with Carla from the beginning, something that had never come close to happening with any other woman.

It was also a blunt fact that the thought of Carla with Panopoulos, or any man, was unacceptable. When he had walked into that particular wall, his reaction had cleared his mind. Despite everything that could go wrong with this relationship, Carla was his.

If he had to be patient and wait for her, then he would be patient.

* * *

Carla stepped into the room Carstairs indicated, glad for a respite from the odd intensity of Lucas’s gaze and her own inner turmoil. For a fractured moment, she had been an inch away from giving up on the need to pressure some kind of admission out of Lucas and blurting out “yes.” She would marry him, she would do whatever he wanted, if only he would keep on looking at her that way. But then the emotional shutters she had never been able to fathom had come crashing down and they had ended up stalemated again.

The room was an elegant private sitting room with sleek leather couches offset by an antique sideboard and coffee tables. Classical music played softly. The largest coffee table held a selection of rings nestled in black velvet trays.

Carstairs, who seemed to be staring at her oddly, indicated that she take a seat and view the rings, then asked if she would like coffee or champagne. Refusing either drink with a tight smile, she sat and tried to concentrate on the rings. Lucas, who had also refused a drink, paced the small room like an overlarge caged panther, then came to stand over her, distracting her further.

His breath stirred her hair as he leaned forward for a closer look. Utterly distracted by his closeness, she stared blindly at the rings, dazzled by the glitter but unable to concentrate, which was criminal because she loved pretty jewelry. “I didn’t think you were interested in jewelry.”

“I’m interested in you,” he said flatly. “This one.”

He picked out a pale blue pear-shaped stone, which she had noticed but bypassed because it occupied a tray that contained a very small number of exquisite rings, all with astronomical price tags.

He handed it to her then conferred briefly with Carstairs. “It’s a blue diamond, from Brazil. Very rare, and the same color as your eyes. Do you like it?”

She studied the soft, mesmerizing glow of the diamond, but was more interested in the fact that he had picked the ring because it matched her eyes. She slipped the ring on her finger. Wouldn’t you know, it was a perfect fit and it looked even better on. “I love it.”

His gaze caught hers, held it, and for a moment she felt absurdly giddy.

“Then we’ll take it.” He passed Carstairs his credit card.

Yanking the ring off, she replaced it on its plush velvet tray and pushed to her feet, panic gripping her. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

Lucas said something in rapid Medinian to Carstairs. With a curt bow, the store manager, who could evidently speak the language, left the room, still with Lucas’s card, which meant Lucas was buying the ring, regardless. Simultaneously, an elegant older woman in a simple black dress collected the remaining trays and made a swift exit along with Tiberio, leaving them alone. The blue ring, she noticed, was left on the coffee table.

In the background the classical music ended. Suddenly the silence was thick enough to cut.

Carla shoved to her feet and walked to the large bay window. She stared out into the tiny yard presently dominated by the limousine, and the issue she’d been desperate to ignore, which had hurt more than anything because it had cut into the most tender part of her, surfaced. As hard as she had tried for two years to be everything Lucas could want or need, it hadn’t been enough. When the pressure had come on to commit, he hadn’t wanted
her.
He had wanted Lilah, who in many ways was her complete opposite: calm, controlled and content to keep a low profile.

In retrospect, maybe she had tried too hard and he hadn’t ever really seen her, just the glossy, upbeat side that was always “on.” The one time he had truly seen her had been in Thailand. She had been too sick to try to be anything but herself, and he had run a mile. “What about Lilah?”

“I spoke to Lilah last night. Zane is taking care of her.”

She met his gaze in the window. “I thought you were in love with her.”

He came to stand behind her. “She was my date at the wedding, that was all. And, no, we didn’t sleep together. We didn’t kiss. I didn’t so much as hold her hand.”

Relief made Carla’s legs feel as limp as noodles. He pulled her back against him in a loose hold, as the palm of one hand slid around to cup her abdomen.

“Marriage wasn’t on my agenda, with anyone, but the situation has…changed. Don’t forget it’s entirely possible you’re pregnant.”

Lucas’s hold tightened, making her intensely aware of his hard, muscled body so close behind her. Their reflection bounced back at her, Lucas large and powerfully male, herself paler and decidedly feminine. “I can’t marry solely for a baby that might not exist! There has to be something more. Sienna is married to a man she loves. A man who loved her enough that he kidnapped her—”

“Are you saying you want to be
kidnapped?
”

She stared at the dark, irritable glitter of Lucas’s eyes, the tough line of his jaw. Her own jaw set. “All I’m saying is that Constantine loves Sienna. It matters.”