The Billionaire's Borrowed Baby(30)
With one knee, he spread her legs and settled between her thighs, positioning himself. He looked down at her, inwardly cursing the darkness, needing desperately to see her face. "Tell me you want me, Hattie," he said huskily. "Beg me."
She spread her legs even wider, seeking to join their bodies, but he held back, driven by some Neanderthal impulse. "Say it, Hattie."
Her voice, a rasping, air-starved whisper reached his ear. "Please Luc. Take me … please."
He surged forward, shuddering as her body gripped him. She was tight and hot, and her long, slender legs wrapped around his waist. He knew in an instant that once more there would be no slow, sweet loving. He drove into her again and again until the tide swept over him, pulled him under, erasing every thought but one. Hattie was his.
He tried to hold back, to prolong the exquisite sensations for a few moments more, but it was hopeless. With a hoarse shout, he came inside her for long, agonizing seconds, conscious of nothing but searing pleasure and blinding release.
In the aftermath, they clung together, breathing fractured, skin damp, hearts pounding in unison. With his last ounce of energy, he reached for the top sheet, pulled it over them. Hattie's limp body curled spoon fashion against his, her bare bottom pressed to the cradle of his thighs.
Luc surrendered to the oblivion of sleep.
Sixteen
Hattie slipped from Luc's arms and donned a long T-shirt and panties before quietly exiting the tent. Her body was stiff and sore in some interesting places, and she felt at once exhausted and exhilarated.
After a necessary trip to the bathroom, she stood in the eerie gray light of predawn, her arms clasped around her middle. Just a few hundred feet offshore, a tiny strip of land, hardly big enough to merit the designation island, was covered with a teeming mass of flapping, squawking birds.
Their raucous calls and noisy confusion mirrored the turmoil in her heart. What in the heck was she going to do? There was no longer any doubt about her feelings for Luc. Having sex with him last night in such an erotic and abandoned way had been at once the most perfect and the most stupid thing she had ever done in her life.
She might one day find another man as intelligent as Luc. As kind, as handsome, as funny … perhaps. But there was no doubt in her mind that the lovemaking they had shared was unique. He'd been a good lover in college, no question. But this time around, the sex was even better. She hadn't expected the intensity, the shattering intimacy, the feeling that she had bound herself to him body and soul.
He was also better at reading her. Some internal radar seemed to pick up her moods, to see inside her head and know what she was thinking. Which made him very dangerous to her peace of mind.
And his empathy was a huge problem given that this relationship was temporary and supposedly pragmatic. She didn't want to feel so connected to him. What a mess. As much as she longed to enjoy this surprising honeymoon all the way to its conclusion, another smarter Hattie said, Go home.
She looked over her shoulder at the small blue tent, its outline shrouded in the misty morning fog. In a short while, the cozy housing would be dismantled, much like her short-lived marriage. The campsite would be cleared, leaving no trace of the spot where Hattie Parker had given her heart to Luc Cavallo.
But hearts healed, didn't they? And life went on. She would go back to her job perhaps, settle into a new place, learn to play the role of single mom. And perhaps this ending wouldn't be as painful as the one ten years ago. Maybe Deedee's chortling smiles would be a distraction.
Hattie and Luc might remain friends … or, if not, she'd have memories … . And if she was lucky, someday a lover who didn't know that he was second best.
Luc knew the instant Hattie stirred from his embrace and left the tent. Even in his sleep he'd been aware of her warmth and softness twined in his arms, their legs tangled, her head tucked beneath his chin. Twice more during the night they had come together in exquisite lovemaking, the first a slow gentle mating, the second a hard, fast, almost desperate race to the finish.
But Hattie's recent stealthy departure said louder than words that she needed some time alone. That she hadn't wanted to face him. He understood her motivation. He just didn't like it.
The warm pillows still retained a remnant of her fragrance. He climbed out and put on his shorts. As he ran a hand over the stubble on his chin, he grimaced. Perhaps spending the night on a deserted island wasn't the greatest way to win over a woman. But Hattie had been a good sport about it all, and something about the isolation had deepened the intimacy of their lovemaking.
He exited the tent and walked over to where she stood looking out to sea. Looping his arms around her waist from behind, he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Good morning."
She turned slightly, enough for him to see that she was smiling. "Good morning, Luc."
He squeezed her gently. "You ready for some breakfast?"
She nodded. "At the risk of sounding unladylike, I could eat the proverbial horse."
They fixed the meal together, Hattie cutting up fresh fruit while he toasted bread on the grill. He had hoped to make love to her once more before they left, but it wasn't going to happen. Hattie had retreated to some distant place, and the invisible line in the sand was one he couldn't cross.
By ten o'clock everything was packed up and loaded in the boat. He suggested climbing the lighthouse, but Hattie shook her head, saying she was tired and ready to go back. He wanted to tease her about her fatigue. Lord knew neither of them had gotten much sleep, but his courage failed him. He had just experienced one of the most incredible nights of his life, but the lady involved was treating him like a favorite brother.
It was hell on a man's self-esteem.
They made the return trip to Key West mostly in silence. Hattie sat in the back of the boat on a bench seat wearing her baseball cap pulled low over her eyes and with her arms curled around her knees. Clouds had rolled in during the morning, making the sky sullen and angry. He had to keep both hands on the wheel to handle the choppy waves.
Docking, unloading and getting back to the hotel were interminable chores. He was determined to have his say, strangely afraid that if he didn't mend some unknown rift, she would slip away from him altogether.
Hattie unlocked the door to their room. He followed her in. She dumped her things on the sofa and turned to face him, a forced smile on her lips. "Thanks for taking me to the fort. It was wonderful."
His jaw clenched. "And what about us? Were we wonderful, too?"
He watched as shock followed by what could only be described as a flash of pain crossed her face.
As she took off her cap and ran her hands through her hair, she glanced at him. "What do you think?"
He jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. "I think we were pretty damn fabulous … . Wouldn't you agree?"
A rosy flush climbed from her throat to her cheeks. She nodded slowly. "We never had trouble in that department."
He laughed softly. "Hell, no." He sensed a softening in her, so he pressed his advantage. "Imagine what we could do in that big bed with wine and clean sheets and candles."
Her blush deepened. He stepped toward her, smiling inwardly as she backed up until her legs hit the sofa and she fell backward. He leaned over her, bracing his hands on the back of the couch, bracketing her with his arms. "Kiss me, Hattie."
Her dark eyes looking up at him were filled with secrets. "Do you really think we'll stop with a kiss?"
He bent to nuzzle her neck. "Does it matter?"
"We're both pretty grungy." She twisted her lips. "I could use a shower."
He nibbled the skin behind her ear, coming down beside her and scooping her into his lap. "I hadn't noticed."
She sighed as he kissed his way around to her collarbone, pushing aside the neckline of her T-shirt to gain easier access. He slid a hand beneath the hem and stroked her breast through her bra, lightly pinching the nipple. She groaned. "Luc … "