The Billionaire's Secret Baby(8)

They dressed, and found their way back upstairs, trying to act like the friends that they had been before they found their way into each other's arms, and hoping that no one else noticed.



She left him for a short time, heading to her room to change her clothes and pack her bags. He packed his bags in his room and he heard a knock at the door. He knew it was her; he knew she needed him one more time, but when he opened the door, he saw Allen standing there looking like hell.



Roman blinked and stepped back. "What happened to you?" he asked, astounded at the state his friend was in.



"She didn't let me out of her room all weekend. I don't think I can even move." He walked over and sat on the edge of Roman's bed. "I should have stayed in here with you. I'd have gotten some sleep."



"Well, we'll be back in Carmel soon, so go shower and pack, and maybe you'll have time for a nap. Just lock your door and don't answer it." Roman chuckled a little at Allen, and sent him on his way down the hall. He looked past Allen to see if Cami was there, but she wasn't, so he closed the door and finished packing.



He was thinking of the transition. He was thinking that he would have to go home to Denise and he knew that he may never be the same again. There was a sharp knock at his door and he knew it must be Allen.



"Come in," he hollered.



The door opened and Cami came in. She was wearing a slip of a dress and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the curves of her body that pressed against the material. He knew those curves, and it was all that he could do to raise his eyes to meet hers.



"This is goodbye, isn't it?" she asked, looking at him miserably. "You're going to go back to your wife, and your world, and I'm going to go back to mine, and that will be the end of it, won't it?" she whispered.



He shook his head. "No... we can... we can talk... we can..."



She shook her head back at him. "No, we can't. We live far enough apart that we won't run into each other. We won't be near each other. We won't be close enough to... do this again, and even if we were close, I don't want to be your mistress. I don't want to be an aside to your marriage. The best way to do this is to end it, and call it the best dream we ever had."



He frowned and furrowed his brow. "That's not enough!" he spoke adamantly. "You brought me back to life again... you gave yourself to me... you... you touched me...." He reached for her and pulled her close to him, holding her tightly and kissing her hard on her mouth.



His hands moved over her thin dress and cupped her breasts, and he felt her nipples harden beneath his palms and fingertips and he groaned in need. He moved her to the bed and slid his hands up underneath her dress, moving his fingers between her thighs to touch her, to feel the moistness between her legs. She cried out softly as he massaged his fingertips over her and slid them into her while his mouth moved over her neck and lips, and she came in moments at his touch.



"Once more. I have to have you one more time," he insisted, pulling her dress from her body and pushing his clothes off him to the floor. He laid her back on the bed and made no pretenses, no flirtatious foreplay, he only spread her thighs apart swiftly and thrust himself into her. She clung to his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, kissing his chest. Then she threw her head back as he took over the deepest parts of her, driving her to ecstasy again and again, while his mouth sucked hungrily at her breasts and her tongue.



He took all of her that he could take until he was spent, and everything in him flowed into her, warming her, connecting them, making them one, one more time, before he kissed her softly and pulled himself from her, rising up above her to dress himself again. He lifted her carefully to her feet and kissed her sweetly on her mouth.



'There has never, ever, been anyone like you in my life, and I know we didn't have much time together, but I am so glad that we shared what we did have. You have given me more than you will ever know," he whispered, and she kissed him again, unable to speak. She pulled on her dress and he turned away from her, unwilling to watch her cover her body and get ready to leave him.



She hugged him from the back, circling her hands around his waist, and he turned in her arms and kissed her hungrily once more, drinking in her kiss like it was oxygen, and then he let her go. They wandered to the landing in their own separate ways when they docked, and they looked at each other and waved goodbye amidst the other guests who were oblivious to them, all waving and chattering as Cami and Roman stood watching each other silently.



Their eternal moment was broken by Allen, who came rushing up to Roman and begged in a hoarse whisper, "Get in the car, get in the car, get in the car!" He pushed Roman toward their limo. "Hurrry! Go faster! Go!" Just as they were climbing in, he heard Colette calling for her poopsie, almost yodeling up the hill to him, waving her arms and dashing after him.



The driver closed the door and Allen sank down to the floor and looked up miserably at Roman, whispering, "Is she gone? Are we going yet?"



Roman shook his head and looked out the window. "Just another minute."



The car pulled away and he watched Cami climb inside her limo. She turned just then, and looked toward his car. He didn't think she could see him through the dark glass, but he felt as if their eyes had met one last time, and he wished her every good thing in the world, for the rest of her life, and then she was out of sight, and the limo was rolling down the road.



"You can get up now,” he said, looking down at Allen.



Allen slowly clambered up onto his seat and slouched into the deep cushion.



"You would not believe what I went through this weekend." he sighed loudly.



"Oh, do tell." Roman laughed at him. "Wait... on second thought, I don't think I want to know." He reached over and clapped his hand down on Allen's knee. "At least you made it out alive, buddy. That's saying something. Most of her ex-husbands fall off the edge of the earth and no one ever hears from them again."



"Lucky bastards," groaned Allen.



Roman poured them both a drink and as Allen nursed his carefully, Roman stared out the window and watched his life come back into focus. By the time they reached San Francisco, he was almost sure that it had been a dream, and he would have been positive about that, had it not been for the thin silver bracelet around his wrist.





Chapter 2



Roman sat at his desk, reviewing the specs on a new yacht that a German manufacturer wanted him to buy, when the phone rang.



Janine's voice came over the intercom. "Roman, it's that cute little sales Captain from the Netherlands; you know, the one in Europe."



"Yes, thank you, Janine. Put him through." Roman smiled. Janine was from the Bronx. She dressed like it, she spoke like it, she looked and acted like it, and it was one of the reasons he hired her. No one got to him unless they got through her first, and that was a chore.



"This is Roman," he answered his phone when it rang.



"Hello Roman! This is Jonathon Heatherwick. How are you doing?" he asked in his jovial voice.



Roman grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Well hello, Captain! How are you doing this fine day?"



"I'm wonderful, thank you, but my, it's been so long since I saw you, when was the last visit we had?" the old captain asked, reminiscing.



Roman knew right away when the last visit was. He touched his wrist where the silver bracelet used to rest, until he took it off six months after the day he'd bought it. It hurt his heart too much to wear it, and Denise hated it. She constantly made ugly remarks about it to him, and he couldn't bear to listen to her any longer, so he took it off and hid it in a special box in his closet.



"It was a year ago, good Captain,” he said solemnly. His mind flashed back to memories of her in his head. Memories that he only let filter through his thoughts once in a while, like sunlight on a foggy cloudy day, but those days were very few and far between. He focused on his business all of the time, and tried to keep up with his wife, and that was all.



"A year? Well that's too long. Listen, I have a new boat, and I want you to get the first crack at it. I'm going to bring it to you in San Francisco." Jonathon bubbled through the phone and Roman could hear the smile he knew the Captain was wearing.



"Well, if you're coming over here, please stay with me, I have tons of room in my house, and you're more than welcome to be my guest. I'd love to have you." Roman was glad to think of his old friend coming to the city.



Jonathon paused. "You still married to that woman?"

Roman blinked. "Denise? Yes." Jonathon had met her twice, and both times she had treated him like a barnacle on the bottom of a boat.



"Oh, well, uh.... I think I'll stay on the yacht. Thanks though, but it's a real dandy of a boat and I wouldn't want to trouble you at home." Jonathon stumbled through a declination.



Roman chuckled a little. "Maybe I'll come stay on the boat with you while you're here."



Jonathon let loose a long belly laugh, and said, "Son, you'd be welcome to. You come anytime you like, yes sir, you come alone any time you feel like it."



It was Roman's turn to let out a good laugh and he shook his head. "Alright, well, you let me know when you'll be here."