Now she definitely looked alarmed. Or was it shock?
"What is it you're saying, Richard? Surely you're not asking me to marry you?"
"Would that be so surprising?"
"Yes! I mean … I thought … I just … I … For pity's sake, we've only known each other a little over a week. And please don't go saying you've fallen madly in love with me."
"I don't intend to," he said, and watched her eyes widen.
"Wow. You can be brutally honest when you want to be, can't you?"
"Would you prefer I did a Dave on you?"
"Lord, no," she said with a shudder.
"In that case, hear me out," he said, throwing back the sheet and climbing out of the bed. "Wait here."
Holly remained rooted to the spot, her head spinning. So he had been targeting her as a marital candidate.
Holly couldn't deny she felt flattered, but, goodness, what was the rush? It couldn't be because he wanted sex. She'd slept with him last night and would undoubtedly sleep with him again, whenever he wanted. Her insistence earlier that she wouldn't be his sex slave was just so much rubbish. Being Richard's sex slave was exactly what Holly would like to be.
But his wife?
No, thank you very much. She might have toyed with the idea last night, when she'd been turned on to the max. But the cold light of morning had a way of making her see common sense.
Holly refused to play second fiddle in any man's life! If and when she got married, she definitely wanted a man who was in love with her. A deep and everlasting love. She deserved to be loved and was not going to settle for anything less!
The bathroom door opened and out he came.
Thank God, he'd put something on. Though what he was wearing wasn't much of a covering, the navy silk robe only loosely sashed around his hips. Most of his massive chest was on display, the matted curls in the centre giving him a cavemanish look. Adding to his primal appearance was his stubbly chin and his slightly messy hair.
"Come with me," he said, taking her by the hand.
"Where are we going?" she asked as he practically dragged her along the hallway.
"My study," he answered.
The room he took her into was nothing like his father's study back at Strathfield. Bright and sunny, the walls were a pale yellow, the floor covered in the same cream tiles that seemed to run through the whole penthouse. One wall was almost entirely of glass, with sliding doors leading out onto a huge terrace. Another wall had built-in shelves, housing a colourful array of books. A blue-and-yellow rug stretched out in front of the desk, which was sleek and modern. The desktop was clear, she noted, except for a phone and a laptop.
"Sit," Richard said, and indicated the blue office chair behind the desk.
She sat, wondering what on earth he was about to show her. Richard grabbed the arm of the chair and pulled it down in front of the laptop. He stayed standing next to her and started clicking the mouse. In no time, he'd brought up a photograph of a brunette who would have given Catherine Zeta-Jones a run for her money.
"She was the first woman from Wives Wanted I took out," he said. "She's a television producer. Thirty-four and divorced."
He clicked up another raven-haired beauty.
"Took her out next," Richard said. "She's a pathologist. Thirty-five. Never been married."
Two more stunning brunettes filled the screen with successive clicks, each one accompanied by a succinct report from Richard. Each one had higher education, as well as incredible physical beauty.
At last he switched the computer off, pushed it over a little and perched on the edge of the desk, facing her.
"To answer your first question, you wondered why I would go to such an agency. I'll tell you why. I'm thirty-eight years old, Holly. I've been in love, I've been married and I've been horribly hurt. For eighteen months I could hardly bear to go out, let alone date. But life does move on and the time came when I wanted a woman in my life, and in my bed again. As well as that, I want a child. And not when I'm in my dotage."
Holly sat up straighter in the chair. A child! So that was the reason behind his urgency. Now why hadn't she thought of that?
"I know people have children all the time these days out of wedlock," he went on, "but that's not me. I wanted my child to be legitimate. And I wanted a wife for myself, too. I'd been lonely and celibate for long enough. But I couldn't see myself cruising singles bars every weekend, or signing up for speed-dating night."
"But don't you meet a lot of women at work, and in the course of your social life? A man in your position would go to lots of dos."
"Like I said, I'm thirty-eight. Most of the women around my age that I meet are married, or divorced. The married ones are out of bounds and the divorced ones are carrying too much emotional baggage for me. I have enough of my own. I saw how successful Reece's marriage was using Wives Wanted and I thought, Why not give it a try?"
Now that she had heard his explanation, Holly could see it was reasonable.
"So what happened?" she probed.
"It didn't work out."
"But all those women were incredible. And brilliant!"
"Gold diggers, every one of them."
"How do you know that?"
"Trust me," he said drily.
"But isn't financial security part of the deal?"
"I guess so. But I suspect Reece was very lucky, to find a real diamond amongst the paste jewels on offer."
"But they were all very beautiful."
"In a skin-deep fashion."
"Did … did you sleep with any of them?"
Holly hated herself for asking, but she had to know.
"Not a one. There was no chemistry. Not for me, anyway. Every one of them left me cold. You, however, my sweet darling Holly," he said, yanking the chair up between his legs, "you heated my blood from the first moment I saw you."
Holly was already melting from his endearment when he cupped her face and bent down to kiss her.
Not a hard kiss. Or a hungry one. A soft, tender, loving kiss that rocked her soul, and her belief that she had not fallen in love with Richard.
What a fool she was. A silly fool. Didn't she know she'd been half in love with him before she'd even met him? He was everything she'd ever wanted in a man. The trouble was, as perfect as he was in her eyes, in his heart of hearts he would always belong to someone else.
Tears pricked at her eyes, bringing panic. She didn't want him to know how she felt about him. And he might add two and two together, if she started crying. He might use the knowledge against her. Make her do things she knew she shouldn't do, like say yes to marrying him.
So she cupped his face with her hand and deepened the kiss, all to hide her tears. He slid off the desk and pulled her up out of the chair at the same time, yanking her hard against him.
Their mouths burst apart and he glared down at her.
"You shouldn't have done that," he growled.
"Why not?"
"Because I've been wanting to do this ever since I woke up."
He wrenched his robe apart before his hands scooped up under his blue shirt, spanning her waist and squeezing tightly, rather like the silver belt had done. She gasped when he lifted her and sat her on the edge of the desk. Moaned when he pushed her legs wide. Cried out when he plunged into her.
None of their matings the previous night had been anything like this. This was wild and primitive. The sounds they both made. The lack of finesse. The roughness of it all.
He came quickly, his back arching, his mouth falling wide with a primal cry as his flesh exploded inside hers. Holly could not believe it when her body swiftly followed with a climax just as intense. She clutched at his shoulders, sobbing as the spasms twisted at her insides.
He swore and scooped her up off the desk, holding her close. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips, her arms around his back.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry."
She buried her face into his chest and surrendered to the need to weep.
"I'll take you home now," he said gently when she finally quietened.
"Yes, please," she said, feeling calmer. And resigned.
So she loved him. There wasn't much Holly could do about that.
She would undoubtedly continue to go out with him. And sleep with him. But she would not-absolutely not-agree to marry him!
"Do you still want me to take you somewhere nice to eat?"
No use pretending she didn't. So she nodded and he smiled, and her fate was sealed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"RICHARD! So it is you!"
Richard knew the identity of the woman before he lifted his eyes from the chicken and mushroom risotto he'd been thoroughly enjoying.