Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2)

by L. M. Connolly

  Fastening his mouth to hers, he kissed her as he took her, and while her head was still spinning from the explosive oral orgasm he’d given her, she went up again, and crested, her reaction going on and on. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rested her heels on his backside, and urged him on. “Never stop. Never.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” He panted the words, relentlessly chasing his own peak, and creating havoc in her as he rode her. Her wordless cries only pushed him further, deeper, and then he changed his angle and worked her up all over again.

  Scarlett had never imagined she could reach such heights. Beyond thought, she threw her head back and gulped air into her starving lungs as Ethan bent his head and sucked her nipple as he thrust one last time. The nip of his teeth gave her a shock of delicious pain, before he pulled away and gasped her name, his cock pulsing deep inside her welcoming body.

  “I love you!”

  *

  Groggily Scarlett came awake to the sight of Ethan getting dressed. He was slotting gold cuff links into his sleeves. The trail of clothes they’d created last night was gone. She smiled at that. Ethan was obsessively tidy. “At least the board meeting is done with,” she murmured, preparing to turn over and snatch an extra hour’s sleep.

  After all, she had this. A man she loved, even if he didn’t love her, and work to do. No debts, either. They had driven her to complete despair before, and she’d learned to juggle them, robbing Peter to pay Paul. This room, the lovely paintings, the very bed she slept in would have paid all those debts and left some over.

  How her life had changed!

  He came over to kiss her. “Go back to sleep.”

  “I intend to. I’ll sleep until the next board meeting next year.”

  “Next month.”

  Sleep left her in a rush and she sat bolt upright, the sheets falling away from her nude body. “Next month?”

  “Yes. There’s one every month.”

  “You go through that battlefield every month?” And from what she’d witnessed yesterday the board chipped away at his plans for the Noir Group every time.

  He shrugged. “It’s not unusual. A war is fought and won through many battles, not just one. I got most of what I wanted in this one, but unless we’re married by the next, my father will get pissy.”

  Pausing in the act of knotting his tie, Ethan glanced at her. His eyes darkened. He walked across the room, pulling his tie away from his collar with a silken whoosh and tossing it aside. Leaning over her, he went in for the kill, kissing her with a passion she found impossible to resist.

  He drew away. “How do you do this to me? You wake up and I want you, like you’ve flipped a switch.”

  “We made love twice in the night.”

  It was as if a different switch had been flipped. He went cold, she could almost feel it. He lifted away, pushed himself up and retrieved his tie.

  She’d used the forbidden word. If she’d doubted that he’d heard her last night, she didn’t doubt it now. She’d assumed he hadn’t heard her, and was secretly relieved because he hadn’t replied.

  But he’d heard all right.

  Springing away from her, he retrieved his tie and knotted it with vicious precision. “I’ll see you later. Do you have any plans for the day?”

  Choked, she tried to think. Yes, she had, though she couldn’t remember them right now. Her head was filled with his rejection of her love. Her dreams that she might persuade him, that all he needed was time.

  “Have you set yourself against it, then?”

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. Turning, he regarded her gravely, sadness shadowing his eyes. “I can’t. My mother rejected my father before I was a year old. She left and went to Bianchi. At least that gave me a brother and, for a little space of time, a sister.” His eyes were a cold, hard blue. “I got to know Evangeline for a short time when I went to Italy to visit my sibs. A beautiful, scented person with a shrill laugh. When I discovered recently that she had lived on, had used the car accident to run away with her lover, and spent years living in poverty, you know how I felt?”

  She shook her head, her throat dry. “I can’t imagine. It must have been terrible. You must have been devastated.”

  “I felt nothing. Nothing. That confirmed it for me. I’m incapable of love. Surely I should have felt sorry for her at least? But all I want is to be done with the mess. But I don’t care about those, either. Not really. Ronan, he can feel. He’s wildly in love with his wife and very happy. But I can’t do it. You’ll have to accept that, Scarlett.”

  “And when we have a baby?” She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs in a protective mode.

  “He or she will have your love and my affection. That will have to do.” He picked up his jacket from the back of a chair. “You and the child will want for nothing.”

  Except love and affection from his or her father. Despite the warmth of the day, Scarlett shivered. A cold, dead existence awaited her, punctuated by blinding moments of passion.

  A smile devoid of real expression flickered across his face before he turned and left.

  Scarlett spent another hour in bed, but she didn’t sleep. She was thinking.

  Eventually she got up and dressed. Not wanting company, she left her scarily expensive engagement ring in the safe in the bedroom, and slipped out on her own.

  An hour later she passed the startled bodyguard in the lobby, giving him an airy smile and a wave. He hadn’t even missed her. She paused. “If you don’t tell him, neither will I.”

  The man shook his head. “Just don’t do it again.”

  “Sure.”

  Going upstairs on her own, she knew the minder would be watching her in the monitors outside the front door of the apartment. But having worked in a hotel, she knew the foibles of hotels and apartment blocks. Service entrances and exits weren’t hard to find, if a person knew where to look. And she was exactly that person. No doubt she’d hear about it later from Ethan. Except she might not be here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After he ordered the man he’d detailed to protect Scarlett to stand down and assigned someone else to the job, Ethan buried himself in his laptop for the rest of the day. After yesterday’s board meeting, he had to make sure he was ready for the next one. That meant eighteen-hour days and double checks. Maybe Scarlett could help. Oh yes, and he had a wedding to plan. Something fast, but with lots of paparazzi and media there. Scarlett would have to look gorgeous and not pregnant. Not yet. He would save that bombshell until he was ready to release it.

  His PA rang through. “There’s a man on the line claiming to be your brother. Not Mr. Bianchi, but a Mr. McCord. He says you’ve been looking for him.”

  Daniel? Ethan glanced at his laptop, and the tabs on his spreadsheet program. Dozens of them. “Take his number, please. I’ll call him back when I can.”

  He couldn’t cope with any complications right now. Guilt had put him in a bad mood, but what else could he have done? After Scarlett’s declaration of last night, she needed to know he had nothing to offer her except friendship and security. She had better put her dreams of a loving relationship into the trash can before she got really hurt.

  Didn’t she know that he would if he could? He’d even thought about lying to her, answering her with a similar declaration but the words stuck in his throat. She deserved better. Lies and deception followed him everywhere, except at home.

  He was fond of Scarlett and proud of her. She’d faced the board by his side without a qualm. And because she understood the industry and the particular problems, he didn’t have to explain everything to her. Fondness had to be enough. And that devastating passion they shared. She opened him wide and put him back together again in bed. When they made lo—

  No, not that word. He couldn’t use it. Mustn’t.

  Nobody loved him. He’d been brought up by a succession of nannies and servants after his father had told them to take him away. He’d barely met the man, and o
nly connected him with the pictures he’d seen on social media. While his minders had been nice to him, none of them showed him affection they didn’t expect a return for, usually in monetary terms.

  Everything was an exchange, and since he couldn’t give her what she wanted, she’d have to learn not to bestow that particular gift on him. Actually she’d disappointed him, but they’d get over it.

  A call came through on his private phone. He picked it up and answered it. Think of someone and they appeared. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” Scarlett sounded breathless.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “No.” She paused. “Nothing. It’s just that I’m going to London for a few days. It occurred to me that if I am pregnant, I should go and see the work on the Woodward before I get too big and bulky.”

  He hadn’t expected the sheer joy that sent him soaring at the vision that flashed before his eyes. Scarlett ripe and full with his child. Primitive and basic, reaching down into the visceral level of his soul. Uncontrollable and mindless, the sensation pierced through the barrier surrounding his heart. It hurt, was his first reaction. Pain mingled with his delight, but he wouldn’t let it mar the moment.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No, I mean yes.”

  He wanted to be with her. “Can you put off your trip for a few days?”

  “Um, no, not really. I need to check something and I don’t want to hold the work up.”

  “I’ve decided to slow the work down on the Woodward and the other hotels. I’m spreading myself too thin, and with your news, I need even more time. I’ll sort out the Noir Group first, then go back to the new project. So do you really have to go?”

  “Yes. I want to visit my father, too.”

  Disappointing, but he wouldn’t spoil her trip. “We’ll arrange the wedding when you get back.”

  “Oh, right, sure. Yes.” Sadness tinged her tones. He wasn’t quite sure why but his mind was whirling. Maybe she was right. A few days apart would help him get this dazzling turn of events in perspective.

  But for some reason he couldn’t concentrate.

  He gave up, and shocked his PA by going home early. Not wanting any witnesses, he drove himself back, taking the sports car he’d bought last year and never had a chance to use. He was mildly surprised that it hadn’t grown a coat of dust. The vehicle had been delivered to his offices and it had stayed in his parking space.

  Time to change his habits, maybe. The drive wasn’t exciting, and the car definitely wasn’t made for city streets. Maybe he’d take it out over the weekend. He’d been working so hard lately. His last break had been when he’d visited the Woodward under a different name. That adventure had worked out fine.

  Although he’d known he would have the apartment to himself, the spacious rooms had never felt emptier. While she’d been here, Scarlett had left evidence of her presence everywhere; a book laid over a chair, a scarf tossed over another. Nothing remained. She’d gone.

  Perhaps she was right to check on the work in London at this time. Pride touched him when he considered how seriously she was taking her job. They fit together so well, in and out of bed. Once she rid herself of the notion of love, they’d be fine.

  Except, she’d released something he’d buried deep down many years ago. The emotions returned, as did the memories. His mother ignoring him in favor of her new family in Italy, his father flipping his hand in Ethan’s direction, indicating he wanted ‘the boy’ taken away. Not once, but many times over the years. Boarding school had come as a relief. Nobody ignored him, but they didn’t cause that deep pain that had made him shut everything away.

  Scarlett forced that door wide open, and for once in his life Ethan felt lost, floundering in a place he didn’t know.

  *

  The minute she had a moment, Scarlett called her father in Margate. “Hello, Dad, I’m home.”

  Her father greeted her with a whoop. “And are you coming to see me?”

  “Of course.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Typical. She’d never been able to hide anything from her father.

  “It didn’t work out. I’ve left Ethan.”

  He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, I really am, but he would never have been good for you.”

  Scarlett took a moment to swallow her tears. “No.” She wouldn’t tell him her other news until she saw him. “But we came out of it okay, didn’t we? I’m going to stay in London for a while, to make sure the renovations on the Woodward are going well. There’s fresh plaster on the walls so I need to sort out the decorations. And check the auction rooms for suitable furniture.”

  “So, he’s still keeping you busy?”

  “He’s paying me very well for it. The contract ends in a few months, so I want to get everything sorted by then.”

  He grunted. “You’re a good girl, Scarlett. He didn’t deserve you, and that’s for sure.”

  “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, baby.”

  Scarlett finished the call and put her phone in her bag. She was back to being just Scarlett Woodward again and it felt so good. Traveling in first class had been an interesting experience. If the private jet had been available, she’d have taken that, but one of the Black family had taken it on an expenses-paid jaunt to Rome.

  Her bodyguard was probably somewhere close, hovering, but he wasn’t in this bedroom in the Noir London. Of course Ethan had put her there, but she had refused to take anything but an ordinary bedroom. Although, looking around the place, “ordinary” wasn’t the right word for this spacious room with thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets and glossy, stylish Art Deco furniture. At least it wasn’t the one that they’d nearly made love in before, when he’d been showing her around the place.

  She touched her stomach. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered to the tiny being inside her.

  It sounded so good, and freeing to be able to say she loved someone and hear it back. Just as it should be. The miracle had happened, and she wasn’t going to take any chances with this little one. That was why she’d come straight home. That, and the fact she couldn’t bear seeing Ethan again.

  Not with Ethan. She believed him now. He couldn’t love anyone. She couldn’t bear thinking about her child getting that treatment, knowing he would never take the ultimate step. His own childhood had been hellish—surely he’d come to understand that this was the best way.

  Maybe he couldn’t show love, but she couldn’t live without it. Her child would never want for love, even if she had to do it herself. The baby’s father would never be indifferent.

  Putting an ocean between them seemed like the best way for now. Facing the board every month would grind her down, and watching Ethan lose his dream, bit by bit, would be even worse.

  And pausing work on his dream? When Ethan talked to her about his hotels, his face had lit up and enthusiasm colored his voice. Nothing like the weariness when he discussed the Noir board.

  He would fight the board until he won, and every battle would chip away at him, bit by bit, destroying his enthusiasm, his heart and soul. She couldn’t witness that, it would kill her. She had fallen in love, but she couldn’t take him as he was now.

  It wasn’t like him to walk away. What he took on, he finished. Control was in his nature, and dominance of whatever he accepted as a challenge. He fought and he won.

  He would win this challenge, too, but at what cost?

  She couldn’t accept that cost, not when there was a baby to love and care for. He wouldn’t deprive their baby of his or her birthright, but for herself—Scarlett would rather learn to live without him now, rather than watch the man she loved lose his fearlessness and his joy of life. If he turned into his father, she’d mourn the loss, but she couldn’t help that now. She had a child to think about, and the start of a career. She refused to live off Ethan, although he would certainly offer to give her an allowance. He could provide for their child, but not for her.

  *

&
nbsp; Standing outside the Woodward, the sound of activity muffled by the closed front door, Scarlett surveyed her old home. She couldn’t deny that it was looking better. The brass sign, tarnished in recent years, was gone. All the brickwork had been cleaned and the stucco renewed on the ground floor. The front door was a shiny black, like the door of 10 Downing Street, and the mullioned sash windows were once more clean white. All the gaps had gone, replaced with new pointing in a mellow color.

  So far so good. Climbing the steps, she slid her key into the lock, and then typed two PINs into the new keypad set under a flap by the side of the front door. A shiny black fingerprint pad was set above it, and above that, a small iris camera. Security plus. The door opened silently at her urging.

  Inside, the place smelled of fresh plaster and paint.

  A man stood before her. “And you are…”

  “Scarlett Woodward.” That was new, and not at all welcome. But the man nodded. He wore white overalls marked with smudges of pink plaster and other less identifiable marks.

  “I’m Bill Sykes.”

  “Really?” As a fan of Dickens’s books, Scarlett recognized the name immediately.

  A wry smile curved his fine-cut lips. “Yeah, really. I guess I should ask you for ID, but I’ve seen you on social media enough to know you’re her. I’ll get fingerprint ID set up for you.” Reaching past her, he pushed the door closed. The click sounded electronic. “I got a note from Mr. Black that you were coming. I’ve set the stuff you asked us to keep in a room upstairs, with a laptop. I’ve set up the internet connection for you, but it’s monitored, so everything you type on it is recorded. And I’ll have to ask you for your phone.”

  “My phone?” She hadn’t expected that, not before the place was open.

  “Protocol. Until we have the systems up and running, we’re not risking anything.”

  Turning, he retrieved a steel box. It must have weighed a ton, since he held it with both hands, but it wasn’t large. “Everybody who comes into the house gets one of these for their electronics. Nothing can penetrate these things. When we’re operational, the boxes will be stored in an offline facility. You get to set the unlocking code.”