One Passionate Night. Jessica Gilmore

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ innocent woman who wanted to love life but who really hadn’t had a chance. And that’s what he longed to capture. The myriad emotions that always showed on her face, in her eyes.

      Eventually, she pulled into a side street and turned to him. “I’m a little bit lost.”

      He laughed. “I think you are.”

      “So you don’t mind taking over?”

      “No.”

      She fondled the steering wheel, then peeked at him. “Thanks.”

      The sudden urge to gift her the car almost overwhelmed him. Watching her drive might have been the first time he’d seen the real Laura Beth. And he knew that was the person she wanted to be all the time. The woman who wasn’t afraid. The woman who grabbed life and ran with it.

      “You looked like you enjoyed it.”

      Her gaze darted to his. “Maybe too much.”

      The desire to lean forward and kiss her crept up on him so swiftly it could have surprised him, but it didn’t. The woman who’d pushed that gas pedal to the floor piqued his curiosity. Not just sexually, but personally. She was as complicated as his desire to paint her.

      He moved closer, watching her eyes darken as she realized he was about to kiss her. His eyelids drifted shut as his lips met hers and everything inside him froze, then sprang to glorious life. She was soft, sweet and just innocent enough to fuel the fire of his need to learn more. His hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, pulling her closer as his mouth opened over hers and she answered. His lips parted. Her tongue darted out enough for him to recognize the invitation.

      Raw male need flooded him. The powerful yearning to taste and touch every inch of her rose up. But when his hormones would have pushed him, his common sense slowed him down. It was as if kissing her made him believe they could have a real relationship. No painting seduction of an innocent, but a real relationship.

      The thought rocked him to his core. Dear God, this woman was pregnant. A relationship meant watching her grow with another man’s child, sadly realizing he’d lost his own.

      Worse, the last woman he’d been in a relationship with had made a mockery of their marriage. She’d broken his heart. Stolen his ability to paint. He’d never, ever go there again. He’d never trust. He’d certainly never give his heart. And whether she knew it or not, that was what Laura Beth needed.

      Someone to trust her. Someone to love her.

      He broke the kiss. But he couldn’t pull away. He stared into eyes that asked a million questions he couldn’t answer.

      “I’m sorry.”

      She blinked. “Sorry you kissed me?”

      He stroked her hair as the truth tumbled out. “No.”

      Her voice a mere whisper, she said, “Then...what are you sorry for?”

      “Sorry that this can’t go any further. There can’t be anything between us.”

      “Oh. Okay.”

      But she didn’t move away and neither did he. Confusion buffeted him. If he knew it was a bad idea to get involved with her, why couldn’t he move away from her?

      “We should go.”

      “Yeah.”

      Grateful that she wasn’t bombarding him with questions about why there couldn’t be anything between them, he opened his door and got out, and she did the same. She rounded the trunk. He walked in front of the car to get to the driver’s side. He slid behind the wheel, started the car, made a series of turns and headed toward Constanzo’s penthouse.

      Still rattled by their kiss, he wanted to speed up and get them the hell home so he could have a few minutes alone. But he slowed the car and let her admire the architecture, the town square, the street vendors and shops.

      When they returned to the penthouse, she took one last look at the Jag before shoving open her door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

      Joining her, he tossed the keys to the doorman and led her to the elevator. Neither said a word. A strange kind of sadness had enveloped him. For the first time since he’d met Gisella, he found a woman attractive, stimulating. But he was so wounded by his marriage he knew it was wrong to pursue her.

      He walked through the entry to the main room of Constanzo’s penthouse, and saw a huge white sheet of paper propped up on a vase on the coffee table.

      He ambled over, picked up the note written in Constanzo’s wide-looped script and cursed.

      “What?”

      “My dad has gone.”

      Her brow wrinkled. “Gone?”

      “He took the jet and went home.” Realizing this ruined Laura Beth’s trip, Antonio faced her. “I’m sorry.”

      She bit her lower lip. “I think that little tiff with your dad this morning was bigger than you thought.”

      “Seriously? Do you really believe he was angry that I said I was happy to have someone else entertain him every once in a while?” He tossed his hands in disgust. “I tell him that four times a week.”

      She shrugged. “That might be true, but he seemed a little more sensitive than usual this morning.” When Antonio groaned, she added, “Why else would he leave?”

      He crumpled the paper, annoyance skittering through him. What did his dad expect him to do? Race after him? Apologize, again? He’d apologized already and Constanzo had blown him off, told him he was tired. He’d given him more reason to believe he wasn’t angry than to believe he was.

      “Don’t worry about it.” He certainly refused to. If Constanzo wanted something, expected something, then maybe he needed to be forthright and not sulk like a sour old woman. “It’s not a big deal. It just means you’ll have to—” Go to the gallery opening with me. He almost said the words, but snapped his mouth shut as the truth finally hit him.

       That meddling old man!

      That’s why he’d left him and Laura Beth alone that morning. He wasn’t mad. He must have seen something pass between them, and he’d left so they’d be forced to interact.

      No. They wouldn’t just be forced to interact. They’d have fun, as they’d had driving that afternoon. And they’d connected. He kissed her.

      Oh, Constanzo was devious.

      Antonio shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the sofa, his blood boiling. As if making him feel guilty wasn’t bad enough, matchmaking was the ultimate insult.

      Still, just because Constanzo had played a few tricks, that didn’t mean he had to roll over and be a victim.

      His voice crisp, casual, he said, “The real bottom line to this is that he took the plane. But even that’s not a big deal. If he doesn’t send it back for us, I have a friend I can call.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ