Welcome to Mills & Boon. Jennifer RaeЧитать онлайн книгу.
not going to let her go.” He looked at my belly with a trace of a smile on his lips. Then he looked up at me. “Or you.”
My mouth went dry.
“But I don’t love you,” I choked out, as if those magic words were a talisman that could make him disappear. “I’ll never love you again.”
The words seemed suspended in the air between us. Then he smiled. Moving closer to me, he cupped my cheek.
“Friends with benefits, then.”
“And marriage?”
“And definitely that.”
“I won’t let you do this,” I said, trembling beneath his touch. His fingertips stroked softly down my cheek, tracing my full lower lip. My breasts, now lush and full with pregnancy, felt heavy, my nipples hard and aching. I breathed, “You can’t just come back, after the way you broke my heart, and force yourself into my life!”
“You mean I have to earn it.”
“Well—yes—what are you smiling about?”
“Nothing.” He lifted his chin. “I’m not afraid. I know exactly what to do.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” He slid down the bench until he was right against me. I felt him close to me, so close, and I shivered with heat in the cool shade of the garden. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back what I’ve lost.”
“You can’t.” I swallowed. “Yes, you’re my baby’s father. There’s nothing I can do about that. But that’s all. I’ll never open my heart—or my body—to you again. I won’t be your friend. I won’t sleep with you. And I definitely won’t marry you.”
He pulled me into his arms. “We’ll see....”
My heart beat fast as he held me against the warmth of his body. I heard the intake of his breath, and realized he was trembling, too. That was my last thought before he turned me to face him. And he lowered his mouth to mine.
He kissed me hungrily, and when his lips touched mine, in spite of my cold anger, I could not fight it. When he kissed me, the colors of the garden whirled around us, pink bougainvillea and green leaves and palm leaves glowing with sun, flying wild into the sky. And against my will, I kissed him back.
Just a kiss. One last kiss of farewell, I told myself. Before I sent him away forever.
THE COOL OCEAN BREEZE came in through open sliding glass doors on the other side of the cottage, oscillating white translucent curtains as I peeked inside the front door.
“Edward?” I called hesitantly, stepping inside the tiny house he had rented on Malibu Beach. “Are you in here?”
No answer. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust to the light. The old grandfather clock on the other side of the floral sofa said nine o’clock. The tiny galley kitchen was empty and dark.
Edward had asked me so particularly to come over tonight, as soon as I was done filming a commercial on the other side of town. Where was he? Surely he couldn’t have forgotten?
For the past month, since he’d arrived in California, he’d gone out of his way to take care of me, putting me first in anything. The only thing he’d flatly refused was to stay away from me.
“Give me a chance to change your mind about me,” he said.
I’d told myself it didn’t matter. He could pursue me as much as he wanted. I wasn’t going to marry him. And after that first amazing kiss in the garden, I stuck to my vow and never let him kiss me again. I think I was afraid what would happen if I did.
The time we’d spent together over the past month had been almost like Cornwall again—only far sunnier, of course, with summery blue skies and bright blue Pacific. And no sex. That was a big change. But that didn’t stop Edward from spending every moment with me, taking me out for dinner, giving me foot rubs, helping me shop for baby gear. I continued to sleep in my childhood bedroom at my stepfather’s house. One night, when I’d moaned about my cravings for watermelon and caramel pretzel ice cream, he’d showed up at the house with groceries. He’d had to throw a pebble against my window. Because it was three in the morning.
No man was this good. No man could work this hard for long. I couldn’t let myself fall for it, because there was no way it would last.
He’d made it clear what he wanted. Marriage. A shared home for our daughter. And me. In his bed.
But it wouldn’t last. Soon, his emotional breakdown—or whatever it was—would clear up, and he’d rush back to his selfish playboy workaholic life. As long as I never forgot that, or let down my guard, I told myself I’d be fine. But still...
“When are you going back to London?” I’d demanded yesterday. “How is St. Cyr Global managing without their CEO?”
Edward gave me a crooked grin. “They’ll just have to cope.”
He’d started accompanying me to OB-GYN visits. When he saw the first ultrasound images of our daughter, and heard her heartbeat, his eyes glistened suspiciously.
“Were those tears?” I asked as we left.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said gruffly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Dust in my eyes.” And to change the subject he offered to take me to dinner at a famous restaurant which cost around four hundred dollars a plate.
I shook my head. “Nah. I want a burger, fries, frozen yogurt. How about a beachside café?”
He smiled at me. “Sure.”
“You don’t mind?” I asked later, as we sat on a casual wooden patio in Malibu, overlooking parked expensive motorcycles, the Pacific Coast Highway and the wide ocean beyond.
“Nope.” Edward shook his head, smiling as he helped himself to one of my fries. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
For the past month, his only apparent job in California had been to take care of me. He treated me as if I were not only the mother of his child, and object of all his desire, but was in fact Queen of the World.
It was pretty hard to resist. In spite of my best efforts, he was slowly wearing me down. I found myself spending every minute with him that I wasn’t working.
It irritated Jason to no end. “You never have time for me anymore,” he grumbled when we ran into each other last week on a studio lot. “You’re falling for him again.”
“I’m not,” I protested.
But now, I felt so oddly bereft as I walked through Edward’s dark, empty beach cottage, I wasn’t so sure.
Could he have suddenly decided he was bored with me and the baby, and flown off to London in his private jet, forgetting that he’d begged me to come over tonight?
Remembering the glow in his eyes as we’d had breakfast that morning, waffles and strawberries at an old diner near the set where I’d filmed a commercial today, I couldn’t quite believe it. A low curse lifted to my lips.
Jason was right.
I was starting to trust Edward again.
Starting to let myself care.
Setting my jaw, I walked across the cottage and pushed past the white translucent curtains to the pool area in the back, with its view of the beach. “Edward?”
No answer. For a moment, I closed my eyes, relishing the cool ocean breeze against my overheated skin. It was August now, and the weather was hot, and at my advanced stage of pregnancy, so was I. As I turned back to go inside, my belly jutted so far ahead of me it seemed to be in its own time zone. Sliding the screen door closed