Spiraling Deception (27 page)

While Roman was in the middle of explaining
some new venture his company was embarking on to me, I caught
myself scrutinizing his handsome face. Every now and then, his
tongue would dart out and he’d lick his lips before he’d continue
on; it was very cute. And I noticed when he talked, he didn’t use
his hands like a lot of people did; in fact, apart from the
lip-licking thing, his features didn’t candidly convey whether the
topic he was discussing was favorable or not. Apparently, he’d
mastered the art of the perfect poker face and I pitied the poor
suckers who went up against him in the boardroom. He’d be one hell
of a tough negotiator.

Regardless, Roman’s sharp intelligence and
shrewd intellect, coupled with his wry sense of humor and natural
charisma, made him an exceptional, intriguing individual. Combine
all of that into the stunningly gorgeous package of his body and I
could see why there was a reservoir of tall, leggy brunettes lined
up for his attentions.

“
Am I boring you,
Princess?”

His sudden question caught me off guard.
“Huh?”

“
You’re frowning, Charli,
so you’re either bored with what I’m saying or you’re thinking of
something unpleasant.”

Yes, I’m thinking about your reservoir of
tall, leggy brunettes.

“
No, just enjoying your
sparkling company,” I lied.
“So what’s
this surprise you mentioned earlier, Mr. Knight?” I finished the
last of the wine in my glass.

His devilish smirk reappeared. “I promised
to show you around the city, so what better way than to start with
Central Park?”

“
We’re not hiking through
the park, are we?”

He laughed, probably from the horrified look
on my face.

He signaled the waiter for the check. “It’s
not what you think, Princess.” Once he’d settled the bill, he stood
and held out his hand. “Come on. Let me show you your
surprise.”

We walked several yards across to the
entrance of the park, where a man waited beside a carriage drawn by
a beautiful gray speckled horse. “You can’t be serious,” I
squealed, and dropped Roman’s hand to run over to the gorgeous
animal. “Aw, you’re so cute. Yes, yes, you are, beautiful boy,” I
cooed.

“
Hmm…how is it that I’m
the one to wine and dine you and yet he gets all the
affection?”

“
Oh shush.” I scoffed and
patted the horse’s mane. “Besides, if you play your cards right, I
might give you a kiss goodnight too.”

“
I was rather hoping for
the petting. If the horse gets it, then I want it too.”

Ignoring his innuendo, I turned to the
driver. “Can we go for a ride?”

“
Of course. That’s what
the man paid me for.” He gestured to Roman.

We climbed into the carriage and the driver
passed Roman a small checked blanket to ward off the evening chill
and with a whistle from the horse’s handler, we were trotting off
through Central Park.

“
If I didn’t know better,
I’d say you were attempting to woo me, Mr. Knight.”

Roman raised a brow. A small grin played
around his lips. “Is it working?”

“
Hmm, maybe.”

“
Only a maybe? Clearly, I
need to try harder then.”

“
For a man who once told
me you don’t like complications or commitments, your behavior
is…well, it’s kinda contradictory.”

“
Ah.” His face transformed
back into a mask of impassivity. “Charlotte, I don’t normally do
permanent
commitment,
as you put it, and everything I feel about you is
complicated. But, I’d like to see where it could go between you and
me.”

He stared into my eyes with such incredible
intensity that I bit my lip and held my breath, frozen to the
carriage bench. His statement literally rocked my foundation and I
was torn between wanting to jump into his arms and smother him in
kisses and go running and screaming for the hills. Less than a week
ago, I’d thought my relationship with Roman was over—an impulsive
holiday fling that had run its course. I’d foolishly fallen for the
unattainable playboy and in time, my broken heart would heal. But
not only had Roman manipulated circumstances to where I now found
myself living and working in New York, but he was also telling me
he wanted some kind of commitment. It was all too much to process
at that moment.

Roman, obviously waiting for my reaction,
clearly lost patience when he didn’t receive one, and sighed in
resignation. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough. What I’m
saying, Charli, is—”

His words were cut off when I scrambled from
the carriage seat and practically launched myself in his lap,
threading my fingers through the soft locks of his ebony hair, and
forced his lips down on mine.

And the only sounds I heard apart from the
soft mewling moans that came from deep within my throat were the
clip-clop-clip-clop of the horse’s hooves below us as Roman kissed
me back.

Chapter Eighteen

“
Doesn’t it feel like
you’re living in a fishbowl?” I heard Roman’s muffled chuckle from
the foyer of his apartment, where he’d disappeared to hang up my
coat.

“
Would you like a drink?”
The sound of his voice became louder as he strolled back into the
living room. I didn’t turn to face him as he approached me and
instead focused all of my attention on the view beyond the massive
wall of glass that spanned the length of the room.

“
No, seriously, Roman, you
wouldn’t want to be running from the bathroom to fetch a towel—the
whole damn city could see you naked. And the heating bills alone
must cost you a fortune.”

We’d come back to Roman’s apartment, or more
accurately his penthouse, after the horse and carriage ride through
the park. I told myself I’d agreed to come back to his place mostly
out of curiosity but the truth was, after him telling me he’d
wanted a commitment—I really wanted to jump his bones.

Of course, I’d imagined he probably lived in
some impressively large apartment, perhaps even one of those
beautiful ornate brownstones on the Upper East Side. However, the
gargantuan penthouse of a seventy-five-story, colossal towering
glass structure overlooking the entire length of Central Park was
beyond even my imagination.

“
Charli,” Roman
called.

I turned my gaze away from the extraordinary
sweeping views of Central Park to face him. “How big is this
place?”

He frowned. “The penthouse?”

“
Yes, the penthouse,
Roman. Your living room is the size of a football field. How many
bedrooms does this place have?”

Understanding dawned and he chuckled again.
“It’s roughly nine and a half thousand feet.”

Like a predator cornering its game, he
stalked toward me. A glint of mischievousness lit his dark blue
eyes. “And there’s only one bedroom that counts right about now,
Princess.”

Heat rose in my face and I flushed. The
sound of his carnal voice sent tingles to my lower regions. I
wanted to climb him, wrap my legs around his strong, lean hips and
kiss him until I couldn’t breathe anymore. But, despite everything
that had happened between us tonight, a tiny part of me was smarted
over his response to my apartment earlier.

“
How can this possibly
work?” I blurted.

Confusion clouded his face. “How can what
work?”

My arms crossed, and I took a deep breath
for courage. “Between us, I mean. You and I—we’re worlds apart,
Roman, and from your reaction to my apartment earlier tonight,
well…” I unfolded my arms and swept a hand around to indicate the
room. “Well, look around…” I stopped, too afraid to finish the
thought.

His features morphed from confusion to
surprise and then irritation and finally settled on determination.
Why I’d thought he’d had such a good poker face before, I couldn’t
remember.

“
I see. That’s the reason
you were upset when we left your apartment earlier
tonight?”

I nodded and a muscle
ticked in his jaw. “Charlotte, there’s nothing wrong with where you
live—it’s an apartment. Clean, a reasonably good neighborhood,
small but it’s not a dump by any means. The problem is, I don’t
want to see you in an
okay
apartment—I want you living in the lap of luxury
because that’s where you belong, Princess.”

My eyes moved to the floor as I struggled to
hold back the sudden well of tears gathered there. It was quite
possibly the nicest, sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“
Look at me, Charli,” he
ordered and I lifted my face. “We’re not doing this…we’re not
adding bullshit excuses to what’s developing between us. I’m a very
wealthy man. I’ve worked extremely hard to get where I am. I enjoy
the fruits of my labor and I make no apologies for it. Money,
careers, social status—including where we fucking live—doesn’t have
a place in this relationship. You understand me?”

My eyes slowly roamed his handsome,
expectant features as he waited for me to acknowledge his
statement. I nodded and cleared my throat. “Okay, but you have to
understand, all this…” I flicked my wrist out to indicate the room
once again, “is overwhelming and a little intimidating at times, so
you’re going to have to be a bit patient with me. Okay?”

His answering grin was dazzling. “That I can
do,” he agreed, reaching for me. “Now…I believe we were discussing
something about a bedroom.”

Roman took four large steps forward; each
step forced me to retreat until my back collided with the wall of
glass windows. “Hmm…I think we’ll save the bedroom for the next
round,” he murmured seductively.

His hands rested on my waist and then
slowly, ever so slowly, they slid down to my hips and around to cup
my bottom. He bent forward and inhaled my scent as if I were a fine
bottle of vintage wine, an aroma to be savored. My mouth felt
suddenly parched; I licked my lips and bit the bottom one in an
effort to stem a moan when Roman’s fingers deftly kneaded my
ass.

My palms flattened over the lapels of his
suit jacket as I angled my head to allow him better access to the
column of my neck. His mouth leisurely moved over the delicate skin
of my throat, bestowing tender, tiny kisses in their wake. The
soft, sensual caresses were steadily driving me crazy—every
provocatively imparted kiss of his lips, every languid lick from
his warm tongue, and every squeeze of his talented nimble fingers
was painstakingly deliberate and utterly maddening.

“
Roman—”

Kiss… Nibble… Lick… Knead…

“
Hmm,
Princess.”

Kiss… Nibble… Lick… Squeeze…

“
Roman—I—oh God—that feels
so good. Don’t stop—”

Kiss… Nibble… Lick… Knead…

My fingers splayed flat on his jacket lapels
curled and clenched. I tugged the jacket from his shoulders,
momentarily forcing his gifted hands from their task at my ass.

His answering chuckle was immediate and
wickedly carnal. “You in a rush, Princess?”

“
God, yes,” I breathed
harshly. “I haven’t had your hands on me, your body in mine for
weeks.” My voice was both desperate and unashamedly
beseeching.

Roman stilled. His features sobered as his
midnight-blue eyes moved between mine, searching. “Fuck, I’ve
missed you,” he finally said, his voice hoarse but earnestly
heartfelt in its tone.

My heart stuttered. A small gasp escaped my
lips as I trembled from the sincerity of his words.

“
Roman—” His name was
barely a whisper from my lips and then, like a rubber band
stretched to its breaking point, we both simultaneously
snapped.

His hands were greedy and tugged up the hem
of my dress to expose my thighs. My fingers franticly unfastened
his belt and ungracefully popped the buttons. My lace panties were
violently ripped away, carelessly discarded on the floor. His
zipper was viciously yanked down and I slid his pants over his
hips. All the while, our mouths wrestled like two prizefighters,
hungry and desperate to conquer the other.

Mercilessly, Roman bit my collarbone,
instantly smoothing the sting with his tongue. “Wrap your legs
around me, Princess.”

My legs snaked their way around Roman’s
waist; my arms entwined tightly around his neck and my mouth
ravenously, impatiently devoured his soft, luscious lips. “Hurry,”
I demanded urgently against his mouth. “I want you inside me
now.”

With one powerful thrust of his hips, my
back was pressed rigidly against the glass wall as Roman entered
me—the overwhelming sensations of being filled with this beautiful
man so mind-blowingly good.