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

Год написания книги
2019
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“You lying bastard!” she burst out. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe you want to help me?”

He snorted, giving her a lazy half smile. “I think I can see why you’re having a hard time raising money.”

“Of course I don’t talk to real donors that way. But you’re not serious!”

His eyes met hers, all trace of his smile gone. “What would it take to show you how serious I am?”

She chewed her lip.

She did need donations for the park. They were still twenty million short, and it would be a miracle if they could get that much together by March, when the landscaping bids would be completed.

But getting Roark out of New York before he found out she’d had his baby was even more important than raising money for the park.

She could just refuse him, of course. But every time she’d run away from Roark, it only made him pursue her more. Like any dangerous wolf or bear, he seemed maddened by the sight of prey running away.

So what if she didn’t run away?

What if instead she gave him exactly what he wanted? Wouldn’t that make him lose interest? The only reason he continued to pursue her was because she didn’t want him. In a world where every other woman on the planet lived to serve him in every way possible, he must have found Lia’s hatred an intriguing novelty.

But if she’d actually wanted to be his girlfriend, a playboy like Roark wouldn’t have been able to run from her fast enough. Throwing herself at him would be the easiest way to get rid of him.

But … throw herself at him? The idea terrified her. She couldn’t do it.

She would just have to allay his suspicions, accept his money and then pray he would leave.

“Fine,” she ground out, turning away with ill grace. “You can come into my office long enough to write your check.”

“Very generous of you,” he said, getting out of the Rolls-Royce behind her.

He followed her into the building, up the rickety old elevator to the rooms on the third floor that Lia had rented for her foundation. There were two offices—one for Emily, one for Lia—and a front waiting room that held some chairs where their receptionist answered the phones.

The girl looked up breathlessly when she saw Roark. He smiled at her casually, and Lia could see the effect it had on Sarah. She gawked at dark, handsome Roark as if she’d never seen a man before.

For some reason it annoyed Lia. “Good morning, Sarah,” she said. “Do you have the preliminary list?”

“Hmm?” It took several seconds before the receptionist even seemed to realize Lia was with him. “Um. Right. Yes, I have it, Lia. Here it is.”

“This is Roark Navarre,” Lia said over her shoulder, as she headed to her office with the papers in her hands. “He’s here to write a check, then he’s going to leave.”

“Hello, Mr. Navarre,” she heard Sarah giggle, and Lia suddenly wanted to smack her. Sarah Wood was a graduate of Barnard with a degree in economics, but a single smile from Roark had turned her into a puddle of giggly femininity!

“Do you need a pen?” the girl was cooing.

“No, thank you, Miss …?”

“Call me Sarah,” the pretty blonde sighed.

“No, thank you, Sarah. I see a pen right over there.”

Lia stomped into her office, throwing down her coat, scarf and gloves across her leather sofa with a growl. She forced herself to turn away from Roark and Sarah and look over the names on her list. She’d need to call Mrs. Van Deusen and Mrs. Olmstead first. The old society mavens would take offense if she didn’t.

She heard Sarah giggle again. Grinding her teeth, Lia tightened her hands around the papers. If she heard Sarah sigh and coo over Roark once more, she wouldn’t be responsible for the consequences!

“Why do you have a playpen in here?”

Lia whirled around to see Roark in her doorway, staring at the playpen that was tucked in the far corner behind her sofa. Oh, no! Before Ruby had learned to crawl and developed an intense dislike of confinement, Lia had brought her to the office for a few hours a week. She’d forgotten the playpen was still there, filled with baby toys!

Roark stepped further into her office, looking around curiously as he took a pen off her desk. “Is it for Emily? You waste no time, do you? They only just found out she was pregnant yesterday.”

She wiped two beads of sweat off her forehead. “Emily? Yes. Of course,” she stuttered. “It’s for Emily’s baby.”

And it wasn’t even a lie, since the gorgeous, barely-used playpen would likely be moved over to the adjacent office after Emily finished maternity leave. Assuming Emily even came back. Assuming she didn’t decide to be a stay-at-home mom in a charming Connecticut house with a white picket fence, making dinners and ironing shirts for an adoring husband who loved her, making cookies for their happy, growing brood of children …

“Lia?”

She blinked as her wistful thoughts evaporated. “What?”

He held his checkbook in his hand. “How much do you need?”

“For what?”

“For the park.”

She stared at him unblinkingly. “Oh. Right.” She took a deep breath. “Our next fund-raiser is a masquerade ball on Valentine’s Day. You won’t be in New York, of course.” And thank God for that, she added silently. “But if you wanted to buy an individual ticket and donate the seat, it would be a thousand dollars. Or if you wanted to sponsor a whole table—”

“You don’t understand.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “How much would it take for you to be completely done with fund-raising?”

“What are you talking about?”

“How much would cover everything?”

She shook her head. “But you don’t care about the park. You told me so yourself. You said you didn’t give a damn about the kids.”

“I still don’t.”

“Then why?”

“Just tell me what you’d need to be free. Give me the number.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Trying to buy me, Roark?”

“Would it work?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“Then it seems I have no choice but honesty.” Looking down at her, he stroked her cheek. “I want you to leave New York. With me.”

To leave … with Roark?
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