A Touch of Temptation(16)
Except for the strange tightness in her chest at the thought of the evening ahead, alone.
She stepped into the elevator and heard the swish of the doors closing behind her. Leaning her head against the cool mirrored surface of the wall, she fought the tears clogging her throat, a volatile rush of emotion flooding her.
In a way, the threat to her company’s expansion had taken her mind off the pregnancy. Now there was nothing to do except face the void inside her. What she wouldn’t give to feel one positive thing about this pregnancy...even if it was something as trivial as relief that the nausea was abating.
She reached the front lobby and asked the doorman to hail a taxi. She walked out behind him and pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders. A black limo came to a smooth stop at the curb.
She stepped out of the way as a chauffeur opened its door. And felt Diego’s presence behind her, emerging from her building.
“Ready to go?”
Her heart kicking against her ribcage, she turned around so quickly that she almost lost her balance. Diego’s hand shot out to hold her before she stumbled to the ground.
His arm around her waist, he pulled her to him, enveloping her in a purely masculine scent and hard muscles that made her feel soft all over.
Warmth flooded her, flushing out the inexplicable loneliness of a minute ago. She breathed in a big gulp of air, expanding and contracting her lungs.
Her stomach lurched in an altogether different, pleasurable way. Why couldn’t he make her nausea worse?
Dressed in a gray Armani suit that hugged his broad shoulders, with his hair slicked back from his forehead, she wondered if he had materialized right out of her thoughts. He exuded raw magnetism, sliding her heartbeat ratcheting up and her already active hormones into overdrive.
His bronzed skin gleamed with vitality in the streetlights, his slightly bent nose and glittering eyes adding to his allure. Languid sensuality cascaded from him.
Even in the chilly New York evening she felt the heat of his perusal on her skin.
“Careful, pequena,” he whispered.
A frisson spread in ripples from where his big palm stayed over her back. His grip on her waist tightened as he felt her shiver, the heat from his callused palm singeing her skin through the silk material.
“I know those heels are part of your image but you need to be careful.”
She raised her gaze to him, tingling everywhere he touched her. She searched his face hungrily. After his absence for a week she had started believing he regretted his commitment to her—at least the personal part of it.
The moment she found her balance he let her go. As though he didn’t want to touch her unless absolutely necessary. Whereas she still tingled everywhere from the briefest of contacts.
“What are you doing here?” she said loudly, trying to speak past the continued boom of her heart.
“I’m coming with you to the awards ceremony.”
She closed her eyes and counted to ten, hating herself for the excitement sweeping through her. This was the result of depriving herself of basic human company. This stupid, dangerous thrill at the prospect of an evening with Diego. “Why?”
His smile seemed feral. “To see the whole world praise my wife and fall at her feet for her brilliance.”
“Yeah, right. Where exactly did you come from?”
His gaze devoured her, swift and dismissive. “The penthouse.”
“The penthouse? What were you doing in the penthouse?” she shot at him, regretting the question the moment she’d said it.
Was he visiting a woman up there? Did she really want to know what Diego got up to in his free time? It had been hard enough to resist gobbling up information about him in the past six years.
“Moving in,” he said, with an exaggerated patience that wound her up a little more. “As will you. It will be our home. Until we figure out something more permanent.”
“You moved to New York? When? Why?” She refused even to acknowledge the other suggestion he’d slipped in. Equal parts of dread and hope thrummed through her. Because, despite every protest she made with Diego close, the knot in her stomach about her pregnancy relented just a little.
“Why do you think I’ve moved here?” His mouth twitched. “Have you noticed your brilliance deserts you when I’m around?”
“There’s nothing new about that, is there?” She sighed. Really, it was better to accept it than fight it. “For every inch you move closer it’s like my IQ drops a few points. My brain works sooo much better with a continent separating us.”
He took a step closer and she could smell the scent of his soap and skin combined. Her heart raced. She made a ca-ching sound. “Down five points.”