The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(123)
It now struck her as ironic that despite all those years of conditioning, the one time she’d weakened and sought comfort had turned into her first sexual experience. A tug of heat reminded her that Connor had intimated there was more to come.
Was that why she hadn’t put up any argument? Was she so pathetic that she’d take whatever he could hand out to her and be grateful? Yes.
Suddenly his comment about not using protection struck home. She’d acted purely on instinct, on basic need, and been so swept away by both the man and the moment that the possibility of pregnancy hadn’t even occurred to her.
Stupid! Of anyone, she should have known better. There was no way she could have a baby. No way.
She silently counted back to the days of her last period. If all the overheard conversations in the staff cafeteria from the women desperate to become pregnant were any measure, she should be safe.
Well, there was always the morning-after pill. Provided, of course, she could find a dispensing pharmacy open on Christmas in the suburb where she lived. Yes, that’s what she’d do. As soon as she could get back home she’d source the nearest one.
She stood to one side of the small enclosure as it raced to the top of the building, unsure about where this evening would end. For three years she’d been of no more interest to Connor than a fixture in his office, yet now he chose to spend the night with her? Her skin tingled—the whole night?
What had triggered this change in him? Carla! Of course, that was it. He’d been behaving out of sorts ever since his meeting with his ex-wife this evening. Anger and passion were both powerful, strong emotions. Holly knew, from her own tempestuous teenage years and the frustrated anger that had led her into so much trouble and seen her caseworker throw her hands up in surrender, how intrinsically mixed the two emotions could be.
So, he’d spent his anger on Carla, then he’d slaked his passion on her.
The realisation flayed her like a whip. Holly mentally squared her shoulders, absorbing the pain. She was a big girl, and well used to looking after herself. If he wanted to find comfort in her, so be it. They could each have their own agenda, fooling themselves for however long it took to burn out. And burn out it would, Holly had no doubt. On Connor’s part at least.
For her, however, the physical act of love had only heightened her senses as far as he was concerned. The intimacy they’d shared in his office now made her more aware of him physically and emotionally.
And more in love with him than before.
The realization was as agonizing as it was hopeless. They were oil and water. The silver-spooned rich boy and the girl from the wrong side of town. The man who wanted children and the woman who swore she wouldn’t.
Connor took her things as they stepped into the sumptuously furnished apartment and tossed them onto a leather-covered sofa. In silence he walked over to the bar and poured two glasses of wine before returning, like a panther on the prowl, to where she stood, waiting and unsure of what he expected.
He watched as she tilted the wineglass to her mouth and took a sip, his eyes drawn to the movement of her slender throat as she swallowed. He could still taste her, he realised. And he still wanted her with a fierceness that made his hand tremble slightly as he lifted his own glass in a silent toast.
“Could you become pregnant?” His stark question obviously startled her and she fought to regain her composure.
“That’s impossible.” She was emphatic.
“Nothing’s impossible, Holly. What if it happens?”
She stared at him across the room, her eyes shooting sparks of blue fire. “I’m never having children.”
Her words were like a knife twisting deep into his gut. They were harsh words from a woman her age and, ironically, words his treacherous ex-wife had never uttered, even though that had been her intention all along. The knife gave another sharp turn.
“So you’re saying you’d terminate a pregnancy?” It was hard to keep anger from his voice, to maintain a rational, conversational tone.
“I didn’t say anything of the kind. Don’t put words into my mouth.”
“Then what are you saying, Holly?” he demanded. “It might already be too late.”
“If the worst did happen, I’d take care of it,” she replied flatly.
“Take care of it,” he repeated. “Why don’t I get the impression you’re discussing love and nurturing here.”
“Look, I’m safe. I already told you that.”
“So you say. Nothing’s infallible, Holly. And I doubt you’re on any form of contraception. Are you?” He gazed at her over the rim of his glass as she responded with a fierce shake of her head. Such fire, such passion. And all this over a conversation. What would she be like when she assumed that passion in the luxury of a large bed? There had been no denying her response to him earlier.