Closing her eyes, she silently pressed her face against his coat. She could feel the cold, blustery wind against her face, but the rest of her body felt hot. And warm. His arms were wrapped around her as he held her tightly. Her breasts felt hard and aching, her body rising toward him with every quick, panting breath.
He wanted long-term pleasure. No commitment. No emotional entanglement.
That wasn’t what she wanted from a man. Not as a husband and not as her baby’s father.
And yet …
One afternoon in his bed. Then Roark would return to Asia, and Ruby would be safe forever. He need never know he had a daughter. He need never feel a burden of responsibility he didn’t want, or interfere in their lives. He could continue his endless travels and never look back.
He would never have the opportunity to fail Ruby as a father. And Lia wouldn’t be forced to watch Roark replace her in his life with an endless parade of new mistresses when he tired of her.
They were wrong for each other. She saw that clearly. She wanted a family and a home. She wanted a steady man who would love her forever and love their children.
She wanted a life like Emily had. But since she couldn’t have that …
One afternoon in Roark’s bed.
One time to try to satiate her craving for him and then she’d forget. She’d send him on his way and start a new life with her baby. She would forget him.
She would.
Her heart pounded as she turned her face upward, looking into his eyes. The sun was behind his head, giving his black hair a halo like a dark Renaissance angel. He dazzled her. His masculine power and beauty blinded her.
And she heard herself whisper, “I need to be home by two o’clock.”
He took a deep breath and held her fiercely, kissing her forehead, her hair.
“You won’t regret it,” he vowed. “I’ll make sure you never regret it.”
A few hours. Just a few hours, Lia told herself. As he lowered his head to claim her lips with a passionate kiss, she knew she’d burn each caress onto her memory. She would make these next few hours last forever.
Then … she would let him go.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS THEY went up the elevator of the Cavanaugh Hotel to the $20,000-a-night presidential suite, Roark realized he was shaking.
Oh, my God, when had he ever wanted a woman like this?
When had he ever wanted anything like this?
He stopped in front of the hotel room door, looking down at her. Her hazel eyes were clear and serene, like pools of cool water in a Canadian forest, reflecting the green and brown of the wilderness and vivid blue of the sky.
Unable to look away, he lifted her into his arms and carried her over the threshold. He closed the door behind them with a kick.
He carried her across the marble floor of the foyer, beneath the enormous crystal chandelier, and across the six-room suite into the master bedroom. He set her gently to her feet. Through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, he could see the stark beauty of Central Park. Black trees twisted patterns against the white expanse of snow.
He took off his black coat. He peeled off her white wool coat and gloves and scarf, dropping them to the floor. He started to take off his black shirt, but found himself distracted when she started to do the same right in front of him.
Her hazel eyes never left his as she slowly unbuttoned her black jacket, revealing a lacy black bra beneath. She unzipped the back of her skirt and let it fall. He saw black lace panties and black stockings held up by a garter belt.
Stockings? A garter belt …?
Who was this woman? She was modern, young, a countess. And yet she was an old-fashioned fantasy, a 1940s bombshell. The more time he spent with Lia, the more he wanted her.
It was why he’d realized he wanted her for longer than just a night. He wanted her in his life until he’d had his fill.
For the first time, ever, he wanted to keep a woman with him on his travels.
Roark swallowed, and his hands stilled on the buttons of his shirt as he watched her. Lia was truly a woman who’d be feverishly desired by every man, no matter the age or time.
Kicking off her black high heels, she put one small foot on the bed and unclasped the first garter. Without looking at him, she rolled the black stocking slowly down her leg.
His breath came in hoarse little gasps.
Dropping the first stocking to the carpet, she repeated the process with the other leg. He licked his lips, unable to look away.
She finally turned to face him. She took a deep breath, and for the first time, he saw the blush on her cheeks, the tremble of her hands. She was nervous.
Somehow that was the sexiest thing of all.
Lia clasped her hands together, tucking them behind her back. Then she looked up at him with a sensual smile, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Roark’s heart pounded. How was it possible that he was the only man who’d ever touched her—this most desirable woman on earth? A woman so powerful and yet so vulnerable. So strong and proud and mysterious, yet utterly honest.
How was it possible that a woman like this existed anywhere beyond the realm of male fantasy?
She took a deep breath, suddenly shy. “What … what do I do now?”
It was all the invitation he needed.
Roark ripped off the last buttons of his shirt, pulled off all his clothes. With a growl, he lifted her up in his arms. “I’ll take it from here.”
He placed her tenderly on the soft bed. He moved down to kiss her lips, stroking her bare arms. He kissed down her throat, stroking every inch of her body with his sensitive fingers. She touched him back, timidly at first, then with greater confidence. He relished feeling her hands on his skin.
He relished it far too much.
But after eighteen months of frustrated desire, he wanted to take his time, to enjoy her. To take her slowly. Until he was utterly satiated with this complicated, sexy-as-hell, mysterious woman….
How long would that take?
She had to come with him to Hawaii and Tokyo. He would convince her. He had no choice. One day would not be enough. He’d kill any man who tried to take her from him now.
At this moment Roark never wanted to let her go.
He stroked and kissed her shoulders, her belly. Cupping her breasts together with his hands, he pressed his face between them. She moaned softly beneath him.
He pulled off the black lace bra.