Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire: The Innocent's Dark Seduction / Count Maxime's Virgin / Untamed Billionaire, Undressed Virgin. Jennie Lucas

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Roark gave Lia a sharply possessive smile, and she knew this had been his intended outcome all along. “Let’s go.”

      “I won’t be your mistress, Roark,” she whispered as they left the building. “I’ll give you a tour of the park. I’ll even treat you to lunch. But you’re nothing to me but a big fat wallet. I look at you and see sprinklers and playground equipment, nothing more!”

      “I appreciate your honesty.” He stopped her on the sidewalk. “So let me return the favor.”

      He gave her a cheeky grin, rubbing the back of his head. His gorgeous, thick, full black hair. She remembered how silky it had felt in her hands last night when his head had been between her legs. Her cheeks went hot.

      He looked down at her. As people hurried past them on the sidewalk, she didn’t hear car horns honking. She didn’t see anything but his handsome face.

      Scattered snowflakes tumbled from white clouds moving swiftly across the bright blue sky.

      “I have everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said quietly. “Money. Power. Freedom. I’ve had everything any man could want. Except one thing. One dream that keeps slipping through my fingers. And I’m not going to let it get away this time.”

      “What is it?” she whispered.

      “Don’t you know?” He took her face in his hands, looking down into her eyes with such fierce intensity it almost broke her heart. “It’s you, Lia.”

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      PRISMS of scattered snowflakes swirled like diamonds in the sparkling sunlight as Roark stood next to her on the edge of the large white field.

      He didn’t touch her. He hadn’t touched her in the Rolls-Royce, either, on the ride from her office. They hadn’t spoken a word since he’d told her he wanted her.

      Even now, his hands were tucked into his black wool coat, as if to keep himself from pulling her into a kiss. But the brightness of the snow and blue sky caressed his tanned face, tracing his Roman nose, the strong cut of his jawline and his impossibly chiseled cheekbones.

      Every time she looked at him, his dark gaze was on her, sizzling her blood, electrifying her to the core.

      But he didn’t touch her. And every moment, she felt the space between them get smaller, drawing her inevitably closer. How long could she resist this? How?

      She looked away, trying to remember her loyalty to her dead family and her need to protect her baby daughter.

      Roark didn’t want to settle down and raise a family. He wanted a mistress who would toss aside everything to spend her life in endless pleasures around the world.

      The image flashed through her of what it would be like to be Roark’s mistress. The luxury. The freedom from responsibility. A life of adventure without constraints. Sleeping in his bed every night …

      Swallowing, she pushed the thought aside. She was a mother. And even if she hadn’t been, that sort of life wouldn’t have appealed to her for long. She wanted—needed—a home. She needed someplace in the world to call her own.

      Yet she remembered his words: “I’ve had everything any man could want. Except one dream that keeps slipping through my fingers. And I’m not going to let it get away this time …”

      “It’s beautiful.”

      Startled, she looked up at his voice. From the northern edge on top of a snowy hill, Roark was looking out at the wide emptiness of the park. In the distance behind him she could see the sparkle of the Hudson River. “Not as beautiful to you as ten million square feet of office space, though, is it?”

      His dark eyes cut through her.

      “Not as beautiful to me as you are,” he said in a low voice. “I meant what I said. I want you to be with me, Lia. Until we’re sick of each other. Until I have my fill of you. No matter how long it takes.” He gave a light laugh. “Who knows. It might take forever.”

      Her heart pounded. Just when she thought she couldn’t take the dark intensity of his gaze for another moment, he looked away.

      “I’ve never liked this city. But your park …” He took a deep breath. “It almost feels like home.”

      “You have a home?” she blurted without thinking.

      Glancing at her, he gave a harsh laugh. “You’re right. I don’t. But the place I’m thinking of is northern Canada.” He looked back over the snowy park. “My father was an ice trucker. He drove supplies across frozen lakes and rivers in winter. My mother met him when she was heli-skiing over spring break. They had three dates and that was it for both of them.”

      “She was Canadian?”

      “American. The only child of a wealthy New York family.” His lips pressed together as if holding back some emotion. “When I was seven, I came to live here with my grandfather.”

      She stared at him. “You grew up in New York?”

      He gave a harsh laugh. “Yes. I grew up fast. My grandfather was a cold man. He disinherited my mother at nineteen for eloping. He never forgave her for marrying a trucker. Nor did he think I was worthy of being his grandson.”

      “But … but he was your grandfather!” Lia gasped. “Surely he loved you!”

      Roark looked out at the wide vista of the snowy park. In the distance, a swirl of wind picked up a scattering of snowflakes and sent them whirling to the sky. “He said he’d spoiled my mother and wouldn’t make the same mistake raising me. He fired a new nanny every six months. He didn’t want me to get too attached to any of the servants, he said. He was afraid I’d get soft—or show my low-class origins.”

      His emotionless words struck at her heart. Her throat hurt as she whispered, “Oh, Roark.”

      He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve had the last laugh. I’ve made a fortune ten times the size of the one he left to charity when he died. He disinherited me, of course. The day I turned eighteen, I left New York, and he was furious. Said he’d wasted his time raising me. He was thrilled to send me back to the gutter where I belonged.”

      “He couldn’t have meant it!”

      “You don’t think so?” Roark’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “He said I should have died with the rest of my family. He said I should have burned in the fire.”

      “That’s how your parents died?” she whispered. “In a fire?”

      For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he turned his bleak eyes on her. “Not just my parents. My brother, as well. The curtains caught fire from the space heater in the middle of the night. My mother woke me up and carried me from the cabin. My father was supposed to wake up my older brother. When they didn’t come out, she went back for them.”

      Lia sucked in her breath. Without thinking, she placed her hand over his, desperate to offer comfort. “Oh, Roark …”

      Without moving his hand, he looked away. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter СКАЧАТЬ