Bought: One Bride
Her smile blew him away.
“You know I like,” she said, her eyes going all soft and smoky.
Richard had often read about women going weak at the knees with desire. He’d never imagined being afflicted in a similar manner. He leant back against the wall and gripped the window-sill.
“You’ll have to be gentle with me,” he drawled, hoping to hide his unexpected vulnerability with humour. “All that driving has made me exhausted.”
“Poor Richard,” she purred. “Perhaps a bath would be a better idea. I’ll go and run one for you.” And she was gone.
Richard closed his eyes at the sound of the water running.
A bath. With her, naked. Her, washing him. All over. Her, kissing him and caressing him in the water.
His knuckles whitened on the sill as he envisaged what would happen after that. He’d have her dry him but leave herself wet. Then he’d carry her to bed where he’d lick her dry. All over. He’d make her cry out under his mouth. Then cry out under him.
He wanted her to lose herself entirely. Lose control. He needed to see that she was totally his. At least in bed.
“Are you coming?”
His eyes opened, his breath catching to find her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, already naked.
He’d never seen her look more beautiful, or more desirable.
“Absolutely,” he said, laughing with dark humour as he propelled himself towards her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I SHOULD never have let you buy me all those clothes,” Holly muttered over the rim of her coffee-cup.
Richard glanced up from his cappuccino in surprise. It was Monday, and they were sitting together in a cosy little coffee shop in Sandy Bay, the Hobart suburb that boasted the casino and lots of trendy boutiques. Richard had thoroughly enjoyed himself all morning, taking her to the most expensive dress shops, having her try on outfits for him, choosing only the best to buy. He’d got over his irrational burst of resentment yesterday, telling himself not to be such a fool. It was great that she liked him making love to her, that she wasn’t at all inhibited, or prudish.
“What on earth are you talking about?” he demanded to know. “Why shouldn’t I have bought you those clothes? They’re classy clothes, nothing like that dress Reece bought Alanna.”
She shook her head, her eyes worrying him. “I’m sorry, Richard.”
“Sorry? What do you mean you’re sorry? Sorry about what?”
Her coffee-cup clattered back into its saucer. “I can’t marry you. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
Richard tried not to panic.
“Why?” he grated out.
“It simply won’t work,” she said.
“Why won’t it work?”
“You know why. I told you once. I need my husband to love me. Me, Holly Greenaway. I’m a living, breathing person, Richard, not a possession. You made me feel like a possession this morning. Like a trophy wife, to be made over into what you want. When we go back to the hotel after this and you…you want me to do the kind of things you like, I’ll feel I have to, not because I want to. Those clothes feel like payment for services rendered, as well as services yet to be rendered. Same with the new car you offered me. Same with the shop, too.”
“The shop was your idea,” he bit out, an emotional storm building up inside him. “So was the marriage proposal.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. I let your wealth corrupt me into getting what I wanted. That, and your skill in bed. But it has to stop now, before I get pregnant. I’m sorry about the shop. But you won’t lose by buying it. I’m sure it will be a good long-term investment. All I ask is for you to let me stay on there till I can find another job and another place to live.” She wiggled the engagement ring off her finger and placed it in the middle of the table.
He could not believe it. She was rejecting him. Running out on him.
The need to strike out at her, to hurt her as he was hurting, was intense.
“I’ll be selling that bloody shop,” he growled. “I should never have bought it in the first place. Which I did, you know. There never was any other buyer. It was me all along.”
She stared at him, and for the first time Richard had no doubt about what he was seeing in her eyes. Total shock. And then, the most dreadful dismay.
“Oh, Richard,” she said brokenly. “How could you? I always thought you were a man of honour.”
“Nice men finish last, sweetheart,” he threw at her, talking tough, but inside he was disintegrating.
A sob broke from her throat. “Oh, God. I have to get out of here.”
She jumped up, her chair falling back. She almost tripped over the bags at her feet as she fled. Richard hesitated only a moment before he was up and after her, leaving everything behind. The ring. The clothes. None of them mattered. All that mattered was Holly. He had to get her and tell her how sorry he was. He would try to explain and beg her to forgive him.