Valentino's Pregnancy Bombshell. Amy AndrewsЧитать онлайн книгу.
scheduled for two months’ time.’
Curiously Paige found herself wanting to tell him about McKenzie, about her fragile health and the long road they’d both been on, but as much as she was desperate for conversation to maintain distance, the ups and downs of her life were not for public consumption.
‘Is she a patient of Harry Abbott’s?’
Paige’s face lightened. Now, Harry, her boss, she could talk about. She could talk about him and his genius all night long. Finally she felt on solid ground. ‘Oh, yes. Only the best for my little girl. Do you know him? He’s an absolute pioneer in the field.’
Valentino smiled, amazed at the difference in Paige as passion filled her eyes and she came alive, her face animated. Is this what she would look like beneath him in bed? His hand tightened against her spine, inching her unresisting body closer.
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘Everyone knows Harry.’ In fact, it had been Valentino’s very great pleasure to finally meet the man a couple of months back during an interview.
Paige nodded. ‘He’s an absolutely magical surgeon, so clever and such a fair boss. And great with his patients. He insists everyone in the audiology department knows how to sign so the patients are at ease.’
She chatted away, finally comfortable in his arms. So comfortable, in fact, she didn’t notice that the song ended and another began. Or that they were now so close their bodies rubbed deliciously against each other as they swayed to the tempo.
Valentino, on the other hand, had noticed. In fact, he could barely register anything else. Her chatter faded into the background along with the music as his body responded to the subtle friction of her dress against the fabric of his trousers and the waft of frangipani and woman lit a fire in his groin.
She shifted against him as someone from behind bumped into her and he almost groaned out loud. ‘Paige.’
His voice, low and throaty, snapped her out of her prattle and she was instantly aware of the chemistry between them. The ache of her taut nipples as they chafed against the fabric of her dress and his shirt. The darts of heat radiating from the fingers of his hand on her spine, shooting waves of sensation over her bottom and the backs of her thighs. The heat in her pelvis stoked by the heat in his.
Her eyes locked with his, the lust, the intent in his espresso gaze frightening. She opened her mouth again to use conversation as a weapon to repel him, to push him away.
But Valentino got in before her. ‘Do you think if you talk enough you’ll be able to ignore what’s going on here?’
Paige’s eyes widened at his insight. ‘I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she denied, feeling frantic, like a mouse on a treadmill set on maximum speed.
‘Paige.’ Valentino ground out her name as he flattened his palm against her spine, bringing them even more intimately into contact. ‘I think you do.’
For a few seconds Paige wanted nothing more than to grind herself against him. It was an urge she had to suppress with an iron fist.
The music stopped and people clapped. She used the distraction to gather every ounce of willpower and step out of his arms. ‘No. I don’t.’
And she spun on her heel and got as far away from Valentino Lombardi as she could.
An hour later Paige couldn’t take being sociable another second. She knew it was bad form to leave the wedding before the bride and groom but she just couldn’t stand being in the same room as Valentino, watching him dance and flirt, for a second longer.
She made her apologies, assuring Nat she was staying the night but pleading a headache. When the lift arrived promptly she almost pressed a kiss to its cold metallic doors. The impulse was short lived as they opened to reveal Valentino, his jacket slung over his shoulder, his bow-tie undone, leaning against the back wall.
They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. ‘Going up?’ he murmured.
Damn, damn, damn. Paige entered the lift after a brief hesitation during which an errant brain cell urged her to run. But she was damned if she was going to show this man he had any power over her. She turned her back on him, keeping to the front of the spacious lift, and searched the buttons for floor twelve.
Of course, it was already lit. Great! Same floor. Next they’d have adjoining rooms! The doors shut and she clutched her bag, reaching for patience.
Valentino, afforded an unfettered view of her spine, looked his fill. He couldn’t deny he wanted to see more of her back. And her front. He wanted to see her become passionate and animated again. And not about a nearly seventy-year-old surgeon who was old enough to be her grandfather. But about him. And what he was doing to her.
But she’d made it perfectly clear that any attraction was not going to be acted on. Valentino Lombardi had never had to beg in his life—he wasn’t about to start.
The lift arrived at their floor and Val smiled as Paige practically sprinted from it. He followed at a more sedate pace, not really wanting to know where her room was. What if they happened to be neighbours? Would knowing she was in the next room be any good for his equilibrium? Wondering if she slept naked? Wondering if she was as sexually frustrated as he that she might help herself to ease the ache?
He shook his head. Dio!
Except it seemed they were to be neighbours and if her cursing and muttering was anything to go by as she rammed the keycard in her door, he was going to have to lend a neighbourly hand.
He hung his jacket over his doorknob and strolled towards her, resigned to his fate. ‘Can I help with that?’
Paige slotted the card in and out several more times, wanting to scream as she twisted uselessly at the handle. She turned to him, glaring like it was all his fault. ‘I hate these things.’
Val smiled. She was animated when she was angry too. Her cheeks flushed pink, her chest rising and falling enticingly, grey eyes sparkling like headlights in fog. He reached for it. ‘Allow me.’
Paige didn’t protest. She couldn’t as his scent infused her senses. She’d done it all back at the wedding. There was no more resistance left. His fingers were sure as they slowly inserted the card into the slot and slowly pulled it out again.
Would he be that slow with her? That thorough? The light turned green and she shut her eyes as he turned the doorknob and opened her door.
‘Entri.’
Paige looked into her room. Her big empty room. She flicked her gaze to Valentino’s big hands with his sure fingers.
Val was surprised by her hesitation and although he couldn’t see her eyes he sensed the battle from earlier had returned with gusto. ‘Maybe I could join you?’
Paige felt absurdly shaky inside. She wanted to cry, burst into tears. She hadn’t realised how lonely the last couple of years had been until an attractive man had propositioned her.
She looked at him instead. Saw the naked desire heat his gaze. This was crazy. ‘I don’t…’ What? Have sex? Make love to? What could she say without sounding gauche or desperate or like a sixteen-year-old who’d never been kissed? ‘Sleep with men I’ve just met.’
After all, it had taken her three weeks and a handful of dates to succumb to her attraction to Arnie.
‘I promise you, there will be no sleeping.’
Paige swallowed hard. Both at the gravel in his voice and the sincerity in his gaze. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. Her throat was parched as she fought a little longer, hoping the sexual malaise invading her bones would lift. ‘Any woman in that room tonight would have accompanied you here in a flash—why the hell do you want me?’
Val gave her a lazy smile as anticipation built in his gut, his loins. ‘Because you’re the only woman who wouldn’t have.’