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Pregnant by the Billionaire. Кэрол Мортимер
Читать онлайн.Название Pregnant by the Billionaire
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408970584
Автор произведения Кэрол Мортимер
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon By Request
Издательство HarperCollins
She swallowed hard. ‘I’m a receptionist. To a photographer.’ Not completely untrue; she did act as her own receptionist on occasion, usually when Cathy was at lunch or off sick.
His brows rose. ‘Anyone I would have heard of?’
Only if she was very unlucky!
‘I doubt it,’ she dismissed.
‘And that guy earlier—’
‘Paul?’
Sin nodded. ‘You said he’s a work colleague?’
She had said that, hadn’t she? How complicated things became when you told just one little exaggeration of the truth!
She shrugged. ‘He’s more of a prospective client, actually. My boss is out of town so it was left to me to do the wining and dining this evening,’ she added lamely.
Sin nodded. ‘And do you have a husband, and possibly children, too, waiting for you at home?’ He was beginning to think that Luccy’s one-name introduction, and her aversion to talking about herself, showed all the classic signs of a married woman out for a night on the town.
Her mouth, that deliciously tempting mouth, curved into a rueful smile. ‘No husband, and certainly no children,’ she assured him.
‘And Luccy is short for…?’ Sin was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt concerning a husband and children, a glance at her left hand confirming that there was at least no indentation to the third finger, or evidence of slightly paler skin where a ring might have been hastily removed. He drew the line at becoming involved with a married woman.
‘It isn’t short for anything,’ she said mendaciously as she shook her head. ‘And as we obviously aren’t going to meet again after tonight, I really don’t see the relevance of any of these questions, do you? Or their answers.’
This man really didn’t need to know that her full name was Lucinda Harper-O’Neill. Or that she was a photographer, primarily in advertising, with her own studio and apartment right here in London.
‘We can’t know that yet.’
Luccy gave him a startled glance. ‘Can’t know what?’
‘Whether or not we’re going to see each other again. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t. I come to London quite regularly—’
‘And I’m not about to become your “regular London girl”!’ Luccy informed him slightly incredulously. ‘Look.’ She placed her brandy glass down on the coffee table in front of them, releasing her hair from his caressing fingers as she did so. ‘I really am grateful to you for—for rescuing me from a very awkward situation earlier, but I’m not grateful enough to hop into bed with you!’
His gaze was lightly teasing. ‘But we aren’t in a bed.’
‘We aren’t going to be in one, either,’ Luccy told him firmly.
‘Maybe not tonight—’
‘Not ever,’ Luccy insisted flatly.
‘How can you be so sure of that?’
She couldn’t—that was the problem! Each minute—second!—that passed, she only became more aware of this man. ‘Sin—’
‘Luccy,’ he came back softly even as he moved along the sofa so that their thighs touched, his arm along the back of the sofa behind her as he easily held her gaze with the intensity of his.
To say Luccy was unnerved by his close proximity was an understatement. She was completely overwhelmed by his sheer physical magnetism—and the heat of the desire that suddenly burned in those silver-grey eyes as he looked at her.
Her breath caught in her throat as he lifted a hand to cup and hold her chin, his gaze still fixed intently on hers as he gave her one last chance to tell him no.
Which Luccy already knew she wasn’t going to be able to do!
In fact, she had a feeling that every moment since she had first looked up and seen him standing in the hotel hallway had all been leading to this very point.
‘I’m aware of how upset you were earlier, so we won’t let this go any further than you want it to, okay?’ he assured her gruffly as Luccy stared up at him in fascination.
She moistened dry lips. ‘Okay,’ she breathed tremulously, having absolutely no will to resist anyway as Sin lowered his head towards her and his lips claimed hers in a kiss of such gentleness that it made Luccy ache inside. She had known from that single kiss out on the terrace that it was going to be like this if Sin ever touched her again.
Luccy groaned low in her throat even as her body curved into his, finding herself unable to do anything else but respond as she felt the heat of Sin’s body through his shirt as she reached up to grasp his shoulders, her own body flaring and coming tinglingly alive as the tips of her breasts responded to that heat. Sin seemed to take her response as acquiescence as his mouth suddenly hardened demandingly on hers.
Every other thought fled her mind as Sin’s mouth continued to plunder hers, tongue questing, stroking, before thrusting deep, drawing Luccy into a swirling maelstrom of emotions and needs, her nipples actually aching now, burning, wanting—
Luccy dragged her lips from his to groan low in her throat as she felt Sin’s hand against her naked breast, having no idea when he had slid the zip of her gown down her spine, and not caring either as he cupped and held her before finding that thrusting tip with light, caressing fingertips.
‘You can stop me at any time,’ he promised huskily.
Luccy couldn’t answer him. She knew she should probably take him up on his offer to stop now, but her body was firmly intent on having its own way. She couldn’t think when his caresses drove her wild with wanting more, needing more, Sin obligingly giving her more as his skilful hand became more demanding and his head moved lower to draw the tip of her other breast into the heated cavern of his mouth.
Luccy sank back against the cushions of the sofa, her body on fire, a deep aching need between her quivering thighs as Sin continued to make her burn with desire.
Sin had meant it when he told her he would stop at any time, but he was fast losing control, no longer sure he would be able to stop!
His gaze was hot and hungry as he raised his head to look at Luccy. At the twin peaks of her breasts with those rose-tinted tips and the flushed beauty of her face as he ran the pad of his thumb across one of those pouting nipples before once more slowly lowering his head to claim it with his lips and mouth. Immediately he felt her hips move restlessly beneath him with a greater, wilder need.
His hand moved from her breast to her knee, her skin as soft as velvet. He gently stroked along the length of her thigh before sliding under the soft silk of her gown to touch the delicacy of her hip bone, the flatness of her stomach, his touch telling him that he had been wrong about her being completely naked under the red silk gown; she was wearing the briefest scrap of lace, her curls already damp with her need as he cupped her there before seeking the heated warmth beneath that lace.
Luccy cried out at the first touch of Sin’s hand against the ultra-sensitive core of her arousal, her body seeming to melt as he stroked her there, his fingers moving in a rhythmic caress. His mouth moved from her breast to once more claim her lips, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his fingers.
It felt as if Sin were everywhere all at once. Above her. Beside her. Inside her.
Luccy wanted him deeper inside her, hungered for his possession as his fingers caressed but didn’t quite enter her. Luccy writhed, lifting her hips to enable him to remove that scrap of lace, silently pleading with him to satisfy her torturous need. She cried out with pleasure as he finally gave her what she wanted. Luccy’s eyes widened as she felt the intensity of her pleasure increase to unbearable heights. Dear God, she was going to—
Luccy groaned low in her throat, eyes closing, desperately