The Billionaire's Unwanted Virgin (16 page)

Not the way he'd used Alice,
or the single minded determination to ruin the man Wichapi had loved, the man
who lay struggling for breath in the room behind him. The man he could have
sworn he was more than ready to see die. The man whose life support machine
he'd have turned off in an instant—before he'd met Alice.

"Mr. Kemnay, you can go
in now. He is quite comfortable and ready to see you." The elderly nurse
smiled at him, and Alice thanked her.

Over the roaring in his ears
he could hear Alice work her magic, smoothing over the fact that he was still
just standing there, in the throes of a panic attack, he was trying his hardest
to cover up. He hadn't had one in years, fuck it. Yet, since he'd taken Percy's
phone call he'd had several. It had pitched him right back to his puzzled
teenage self, unable to understand why the father he'd loved had left them to
rot. He'd coped the only way he knew how, by taking on the responsibilities
thrust at him, but it had left him crippling panic attacks.

Getting angry was the only
thing that worked, but he couldn't summon up that useful crutch now, not when
Alice was watching him, and asking that nurse about his father's progress. Not
when he heard those fateful words.

"He is making a good
recovery so far, Mrs. Kemnay. The consultant is hopeful that there will be no
lasting after-effects. The mini stroke, yesterday, was another complication,
but Lord Langton is fit for his age, and he's receiving the best possible
treatment, so there's every reason to be positive."

"That's wonderful news,
thank you." Alice said, and after another searching look at Lakota the
nurse left.

"Lakota?" He blinked
to get his eyes to focus, and took a deep breath. Anger, he needed to remember
all the wrongs the great Lord Langton had done, and then, somehow he would make
it through this meeting.

Her scent registered seconds
before her warm lips connected with his. He groaned and crushed her to him,
needing the comfort of her soft body, her inner strength, to pull him back from
the brink. She gasped when he kissed her, a violent mashing of tongues that
left them both breathless and clinging to each other.

He pulled away with a groan.

"Let's get this fucking
over with, Alice. Though what you think this will achieve is beyond me."

She smiled and laced her
fingers through his.

"Before we go in there, I
just want to say this. You're doing your mum proud, right now, you know that,
right?"

Lakota growled his annoyance
at the truth behind those whispered words. Anger—he needed to find his fucking
anger.

With a muttered curse he
pushed open the hospital door and faced his past.

The man lying hooked up to the
monitors had clearly been waiting for the door to open, and his lined face
broke into a smile when his blue eyed gaze connected with Alice's. The smile
slipped a little when he took in Lakota's tense stance, and the woman whose
hand Lord Ashleigh was holding, winced when his knuckles turned white.

She, too, looked at Lakota and
frowned.

"Now, look here. I only
agreed to this visit because Ash wanted to see you. Lord only knows why he
would after everything you've done, but if you upset him…"

A tug on her hand made her
voice trail off, and she glared at Alice instead.

"Why don't you let my son
say what he's come here to say, Vivienne? He has a right to be angry with me,
and this is long overdue."

"That's as maybe, Ashley,
but you're still recovering, and you don't need the stress."

"And it might be the last
time I can do this. You heard the doc, the next stroke, if there is one, may
kill me, or at the very least rob me off my ability to speak. I'd like to be
able to talk with the only son I'll ever have before that happens."

Lord Langton paled further,
and there was a definite wheeze to his breathing after that little speech.
Alice scanned the monitors anxiously, but no alarms were going off yet.

Lakota, however, seemed
completely unaffected. He hadn't moved from his position in the middle of the
room, hadn’t unclenched his fists, and he held himself so terribly still, Alice
almost wished he'd lose his temper. Anything had to be better than the cold,
almost detached way he was staring at his father.

"So, there is hope yet,
that you'll finally do the decent thing and die,
Father."
Lakota's
cold words made Alice gasp, and Lady Langton choked back a sob in response. He
shook off the hand Alice placed on his tightly curled biceps and stepped closer
to the hospital bed. You could almost see the waves of anger coming off
Lakota's big frame, and Alice's heart broke a little for him. This couldn't be
easy for him.

"Perhaps we should just
go, Lakota." She said, but he ignored her and simply continued to glare at
his father.

"It's all right, Alice,
is it?" Lord Langton glanced at her, and she nodded in surprise. "I
was so very pleased when I read about your wedding in the papers."

Lakota swore, and his
father's gaze swung back to him.

"You will not believe
this, but I was. You deserve some happiness in your life after everything that
happened."

"Then fucking die, and I
will be."

Lord Langton shut his eyes
for a minute, and when he opened them again, there was a fine sheen of tears.

"You may yet get your
wish, son."

Again Lakota swore in his
mother tongue, and Alice held her breath. The very air in the room seemed to
wait with her, but Lakota didn't storm out of the room, as she had half
expected him to, nor did Lady Langton throw anything at him, even though she
looked positively on the cusp of exploding herself. With her lips drawn into a
tight, thin line, she sat ramrod straight, and if looks could kill, Lakota
would have been dead on the spot.
 

"I guess I deserve that.
But tell me, son, if that's the way you feel, then why did you not destroy my
company the minute you married Alice here? I was led to believe you would the
second you had the power to do so. Yet you didn't."

Lakota finally unclenched his
fists and threw a glance at Alice. She smiled at him, and a flicker of emotion
softened his harsh features, before he turned to look out of the window.

When he finally spoke his
deep voice was barely above a whisper.

"Let's just say I was
reminded that other things are more important." Again he glanced at Alice,
and her heart missed a beat. Her feet moved without any conscious effort, and
he drew her into a hug and inhaled against her hair. As quickly as the moment
had happened it passed, and he turned round to face his father.

"Besides, with the right
cash influx Langton Enterprises can turn around. I'm not in the habit of
cutting my nose off to spite my face, and this is business. I shall take enough
satisfaction from the fact that I'm in charge and you're forced to deal with me
on a daily basis. Hurts, does it, seeing your bastard son, who was never good
enough for you, taking over your business?"

Lord Langton sighed and shook
his head.

"You were always plenty
good enough for me, son."

"Bullshit. When were we
good enough for you? When you threw us out of our home and left us to rot on
the streets? When Mum died of a broken heart because she never got over you
leaving us? When you turned Zeb away in disgust?" Lakota’s voice got
louder and louder as he spoke until he was shouting. He spat on the floor and
turned away, holding his hand out to Alice.

"I've said my piece,
let's go."

"That wasn't your
father's fault. It was me who turned your brother away." Lakota froze at
Lady Langton's hesitant words, and they all looked at her.

Alice almost felt sorry for
her. She looked miserable as sin, with her shoulders hunched over and tears
running down her cheeks, as she looked from one to the other, before she
grasped Lord Langton's hand in both of hers and rushed to explain.

"We'd just lost another
baby, and the doctor said I'd never carry one to term, and I was afraid you
would cast me aside. There was your son, by the woman your father forced you to
leave, and I was afraid, so very afraid. I know I shouldn't have done that. I
had no right to … I'm so very sorry. I've been trying to tell you for years,
but there never seemed a right time, and then I didn't want to spoil what we
have now. Please forgive me, please…"

The rest of her words were
lost as she broke down in tears, great big heaving sobs that splashed on her
hands and stained the silk blouse she was wearing.

Lakota looked frozen in place,
and Alice grasped his hand. He pulled her in front of him, and she could feel
the tremor of shock going through his body at that revelation.

"You had no right to
keep my son from me, Vivienne." The hoarse words carried a wealth of pain
behind them, and Alice swallowed past the lump in her throat. They shouldn’t be
here to witness this. Lakota must have come to the same conclusion.

"We should leave. It's
clear you have a lot to discuss with your wife."

He tugged Alice along, but
his father's voice stopped him.

"Will you please come
back another day? I have a lot to discuss with you, too."

Lakota sighed and tightened
his hold on her hand.

"I'm not sure."

"He will. I'll make sure
he will. You both need closure on this," Alice said, and Lakota grunted
his annoyance, but he didn't contradict her, just pulled her out of the room
and through the hospital corridors at breakneck speed.

It was only when they reached
the safety of his car that he finally let rip.

"Fuck it, Alice. What the
hell am I supposed to do with that?"

She leant across the seat to
kiss his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her back. A kiss full of hunger
and anger, and something else that she didn't dare put a name to.

"We'll figure it out,"
she whispered.

"We will?"

Alice nodded, even as another
thought occurred to her, one that made her want to burst into tears.

"Yes, we will, unless
you don't want me anymore. I'm well aware you only married me because you
needed a wife. Now that's all out in the open, I guess there is no need for you
to keep me anymore, so you'll—"

His snarl stopped her, and
her heart skipped around in her chest like an overexcited rabbit at the fury in
his eyes.

"Don’t talk fucking
crap, Alice. You got me into this mess, and you'll damn well help me out of it.
I don't even want to begin to untangle that web of lies that woman seems to
have woven. You can deal with her whilst I deal with … with my father." He
choked a little on the last words, and Alice reached out to touch him, but he
shook his head.

"Don't, ‘cause I want
you so fucking much right now, I'll have you bent over the hood of this car
before you can even blink, and somehow I don't think your mother would appreciate
waking up to that image on her morning paper."

He winked at her, and Alice
burst into laughter at the thought. He started the car, and they made their way
back to the Dorchester in the agonizingly slow stop-start process that was
evening traffic in London.

By the time they finally
pulled up outside the prestigious hotel, jetlag was catching up with Alice, and
she couldn't hide her yawn.

Lakota surprised their little
welcoming committee by picking her up. Seemingly oblivious to the flashes going
off, and the hoopla he created, he carried her through the foyer cradled to his
chest, with a beaming Forrester leading the way. He ignored Alice's protests
that she was too heavy, and eventually she just snuggled into his chest and
enjoyed the moment. She was way too tired to wonder, and when he finally
lowered her onto the soft covers of their bed, the last thing she remembered
was him thanking Forester, before exhaustion claimed her.

****

Alice woke up hours later in
a room lit entirely by candles. The doors to their terrace were ajar, a slight
breeze ruffling the many little flames dancing on every surface of the bedroom
of their suite. Had they had a power cut whilst she'd been sleeping? Alas, the
London skyline was as bright as ever, when she propped herself up on her elbow
to see better. No, this was something else entirely, and where was Lakota? The
covers still carried his scent, and judging by the state of them, he hadn't
slept, or if he had, he certainly hadn't slept well.

She took a deep breath to calm
her galloping nerves. He would have had a lot to think about after that
revelation in the hospital room, and instead of helping him work through it
all, like she'd wanted to do, she'd passed out.

Some help she was. A movement
on the terrace caught her attention. Lakota had stepped into her line of
vision, his broad back a dark shadow against the bright skyline. Wearing
nothing but low slung sweat pants he looked as though he'd just completed a
workout. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his skin, and his muscles bunched
and straightened as he ran his hands through his loose hair.
 
Alice scrambled off the bed, not caring that
she was naked. No one would be able to see them, and she wanted, needed to
touch him, to make sure he was okay. Skin to skin, drink in his scent, the very
essence that was him.