The Billionaire's Unwanted Virgin
Page 11
"Because you owe it to the memory of your mum. He is the last link you have to her and your brother."
Lakota swore and punched the side of the pool with so much force Alice was surprised he hadn't left a dent in the ceramic tiles.
"Fuck you, little miss know it all."
****
Lakota regretted the words the minute they left his mouth, but the damage was done. Alice scrambled off his legs and out of the pool, and seeing her snatch up a hitherto unused bath towel and wrap it around her luscious curves turned his blood to ice. She pushed her shoulders back in that god awful way he hadn't seen her do in weeks, and she walked away from him.
"Alice, wait."
She ignored him. If anything she walked faster, and he swore. Water splashed everywhere as he hauled himself out of the pool and ran after her. He caught up with her at the top of the stairs and spun her around, shocked to see the trail of tears on her cheeks.
His Alice never cried, damn it. She swiped the tears away with an angry wave of her hand and backed away from him, until the wall stopped her. With her arms wrapped around herself, she held onto the towel as though her life depended on it, and bit her lips hard enough to draw blood.
He stepped closer, crowding her against the wall, and she shook her head. He cupped her cheek to stop the frantic movement and rubbed the spot of blood on her bottom lip away.
"Don't, my sweet little Alice."
She sniffed, but she didn't push him away when he rested his forehead against hers. The faint scent of lemon and sunshine that was so unique to her tickled his senses, and he inhaled deeply. She lost her tense stance and leant into him.
"I was only trying to help, Lakota. I don’t want you regretting this for the rest of your life. Even if you end up just telling him exactly what a fucking scumbag he is, it will give you some closure."
He smiled, despite the granite stone his heart seemed to have turned into at the mention of the past, hearing her cuss like that.
"Careful, little Alice. Your mum would wash your mouth out with soap, hearing you talk like that."
He was rewarded with a twitch of her lips, and she finally looked at him.
"Yes, well, even my mum would say that some situations call for the F-word, and if she was here, she'd be dragging you back to London by your short and curlies."
He winced at that mental image, stepped back, and threw his hands up in mock horror.
"As a cock deflator that image works instantly, my sweet."
Alice did giggle then, and the coy glance she threw at that part of his anatomy, had him once again stand to attention. She rolled her eyes and took him in hand.
"Alice," he groaned her name as she ran her hand up and down his length and scraped her fingernail through his weeping slit.
"It doesn't look very deflated to me. I'd say it looks more than ready for action." She released him with a smile, and dropping her towel sashayed to the bedroom. His throat went dry, and he fisted himself automatically as he followed the hypnotizing sway of her ass cheeks. She paused at the entrance to their room, and half turned. Gloriously naked, with her hair tumbling over her breasts, and a slight flush creeping up into her cheeks, she looked sexy as hell.
"I've heard make-up sex is the hottest yet? Wanna show me, big boy?"
He did, several times.
****
Two days later that fantastic session seemed a life time away, as Lakota tried to control his breathing. With her little hand firmly clasped in his, he stood outside his father's hospital room, unable to take one more step.
He tore his hand away from hers and turned round to stare at the grim view of the hospital car park from the hallway window instead. What had possessed him to cut their honeymoon short and seek out his estranged father? He didn't need this. He had the piece of scum where he wanted him. Langton Enterprises was his for the taking. All it needed was for him to deal the death strike and blow his father's life works to smithereens.
He should have done so the minute Percy had handed him the file a week ago, like had been his original intention. But then Alice had asked about his scar, and dredged up his past, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to make that phone call. Talking about the past, reliving those times, meant he was all too aware of the fact that his mother would not approve of any of this.
Not the way he'd used Alice, or the single minded determination to ruin the man Wichapi had loved, the man who lay struggling for breath in the room behind him. The man he could have sworn he was more than ready to see die. The man whose life support machine he'd have turned off in an instant—before he'd met Alice.
"Mr. Kemnay, you can go in now. He is quite comfortable and ready to see you." The elderly nurse smiled at him, and Alice thanked her.
Over the roaring in his ears he could hear Alice work her magic, smoothing over the fact that he was still just standing there, in the throes of a panic attack, he was trying his hardest to cover up. He hadn't had one in years, fuck it. Yet, since he'd taken Percy's phone call he'd had several. It had pitched him right back to his puzzled teenage self, unable to understand why the father he'd loved had left them to rot. He'd coped the only way he knew how, by taking on the responsibilities thrust at him, but it had left him crippling panic attacks.
Getting angry was the only thing that worked, but he couldn't summon up that useful crutch now, not when Alice was watching him, and asking that nurse about his father's progress. Not when he heard those fateful words.
"He is making a good recovery so far, Mrs. Kemnay. The consultant is hopeful that there will be no lasting after-effects. The mini stroke, yesterday, was another complication, but Lord Langton is fit for his age, and he's receiving the best possible treatment, so there's every reason to be positive."
"That's wonderful news, thank you." Alice said, and after another searching look at Lakota the nurse left.
"Lakota?" He blinked to get his eyes to focus, and took a deep breath. Anger, he needed to remember all the wrongs the great Lord Langton had done, and then, somehow he would make it through this meeting.
Her scent registered seconds before her warm lips connected with his. He groaned and crushed her to him, needing the comfort of her soft body, her inner strength, to pull him back from the brink. She gasped when he kissed her, a violent mashing of tongues that left them both breathless and clinging to each other.
He pulled away with a groan.
"Let's get this fucking over with, Alice. Though what you think this will achieve is beyond me."
She smiled and laced her fingers through his.
"Before we go in there, I just want to say this. You're doing your mum proud, right now, you know that, right?"
Lakota growled his annoyance at the truth behind those whispered words. Anger—he needed to find his fucking anger.
With a muttered curse he pushed open the hospital door and faced his past.
Chapter Ten
The man lying hooked up to the monitors had clearly been waiting for the door to open, and his lined face broke into a smile when his blue eyed gaze connected with Alice's. The smile slipped a little when he took in Lakota's tense stance, and the woman whose hand Lord Ashleigh was holding, winced when his knuckles turned white.
She, too, looked at Lakota and frowned.
"Now, look here. I only agreed to this visit because Ash wanted to see you. Lord only knows why he would after everything you've done, but if you upset him…"
A tug on her hand made her voice trail off, and she glared at Alice instead.
"Why don't you let my son say what he's come here to say, Vivienne? He has a right to be angry with me, and this is long overdue."
"That's as maybe, Ashley, but you're still recovering, and you don't need the stress."
"And it might be the last time I can do this. You heard the doc, the next stroke, if there is one, may kill me, or at the very least rob me off my ability to speak. I'd like to be able to talk with the only son I'll ever have before that happens."
Lakota, however, seemed completely unaffected. He hadn't moved from his position in the middle of the room, hadn’t unclenched his fists, and he held himself so terribly still, Alice almost wished he'd lose his temper. Anything had to be better than the cold, almost detached way he was staring at his father.
"So, there is hope yet, that you'll finally do the decent thing and die, Father." Lakota's cold words made Alice gasp, and Lady Langton choked back a sob in response. He shook off the hand Alice placed on his tightly curled biceps and stepped closer to the hospital bed. You could almost see the waves of anger coming off Lakota's big frame, and Alice's heart broke a little for him. This couldn't be easy for him.
"Perhaps we should just go, Lakota." She said, but he ignored her and simply continued to glare at his father.
"It's all right, Alice, is it?" Lord Langton glanced at her, and she nodded in surprise. "I was so very pleased when I read about your wedding in the papers."
Lakota swore, and his father's gaze swung back to him.
"You will not believe this, but I was. You deserve some happiness in your life after everything that happened."
"Then fucking die, and I will be."
Lord Langton shut his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them again, there was a fine sheen of tears.
"You may yet get your wish, son."
Again Lakota swore in his mother tongue, and Alice held her breath. The very air in the room seemed to wait with her, but Lakota didn't storm out of the room, as she had half expected him to, nor did Lady Langton throw anything at him, even though she looked positively on the cusp of exploding herself. With her lips drawn into a tight, thin line, she sat ramrod straight, and if looks could kill, Lakota would have been dead on the spot.
"I guess I deserve that. But tell me, son, if that's the way you feel, then why did you not destroy my company the minute you married Alice here? I was led to believe you would the second you had the power to do so. Yet you didn't."
Lakota finally unclenched his fists and threw a glance at Alice. She smiled at him, and a flicker of emotion softened his harsh features, before he turned to look out of the window.
When he finally spoke his deep voice was barely above a whisper.
"Let's just say I was reminded that other things are more important." Again he glanced at Alice, and her heart missed a beat. Her feet moved without any conscious effort, and he drew her into a hug and inhaled against her hair. As quickly as the moment had happened it passed, and he turned round to face his father.
"Besides, with the right cash influx Langton Enterprises can turn around. I'm not in the habit of cutting my nose off to spite my face, and this is business. I shall take enough satisfaction from the fact that I'm in charge and you're forced to deal with me on a daily basis. Hurts, does it, seeing your bastard son, who was never good enough for you, taking over your business?"
Lord Langton sighed and shook his head.
"You were always plenty good enough for me, son."
"Bullshit. When were we good enough for you? When you threw us out of our home and left us to rot on the streets? When Mum died of a broken heart because she never got over you leaving us? When you turned Zeb away in disgust?" Lakota’s voice got louder and louder as he spoke until he was shouting. He spat on the floor and turned away, holding his hand out to Alice.
"I've said my piece, let's go."
"That wasn't your father's fault. It was me who turned your brother away." Lakota froze at Lady Langton's hesitant words, and they all looked at her.
Alice almost felt sorry for her. She looked miserable as sin, with her shoulders hunched over and tears running down her cheeks, as she looked from one to the other, before she grasped Lord Langton's hand in both of hers and rushed to explain.
"We'd just lost another baby, and the doctor said I'd never carry one to term, and I was afraid you would cast me aside. There was your son, by the woman your father forced you to leave, and I was afraid, so very afraid. I know I shouldn't have done that. I had no right to … I'm so very sorry. I've been trying to tell you for years, but there never seemed a right time, and then I didn't want to spoil what we have now. Please forgive me, please…"
The rest of her words were lost as she broke down in tears, great big heaving sobs that splashed on her hands and stained the silk blouse she was wearing.
Lakota looked frozen in place, and Alice grasped his hand. He pulled her in front of him, and she could feel the tremor of shock going through his body at that revelation.
"You had no right to keep my son from me, Vivienne." The hoarse words carried a wealth of pain behind them, and Alice swallowed past the lump in her throat. They shouldn’t be here to witness this. Lakota must have come to the same conclusion.
"We should leave. It's clear you have a lot to discuss with your wife."
He tugged Alice along, but his father's voice stopped him.
"Will you please come back another day? I have a lot to discuss with you, too."
Lakota sighed and tightened his hold on her hand.
"I'm not sure."
"He will. I'll make sure he will. You both need closure on this," Alice said, and Lakota grunted his annoyance, but he didn't contradict her, just pulled her out of the room and through the hospital corridors at breakneck speed.
It was only when they reached the safety of his car that he finally let rip.
"Fuck it, Alice. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"
She leant across the seat to kiss his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her back. A kiss full of hunger and anger, and something else that she didn't dare put a name to.
"We'll figure it out," she whispered.
"We will?"
Alice nodded, even as another thought occurred to her, one that made her want to burst into tears.
"Yes, we will, unless you don't want me anymore. I'm well aware you only married me because you needed a wife. Now that's all out in the open, I guess there is no need for you to keep me anymore, so you'll—"
His snarl stopped her, and her heart skipped around in her chest like an overexcited rabbit at the fury in his eyes.
"Don’t talk fucking crap, Alice. You got me into this mess, and you'll damn well help me out of it. I don't even want to begin to untangle that web of lies that woman seems to have woven. You can deal with her whilst I deal with … with my father." He choked a little on the last words, and Alice reached out to touch him, but he shook his head.
"Don't, ‘cause I want you so fucking much right now, I'll have you bent over the hood of this car before you can even blink, and somehow I don't think your mother would appreciate waking up to that image on her morning paper."
He winked at her, and Alice burst into laughter at the thought. He started the car, and they made their way back to the Dorchester in the agonizingly slow stop-start process that was evening traffic in London.
By the time they finally pulled up outside the prestigious hotel, jetlag was catching up with Alice, and she couldn't hide her yawn.
Lakota surprised their little welcoming committee by picking her up. Seemingly oblivious to the flashes going off, and the hoopla he created, he carried her through the foyer cradled to his chest, with a beaming Forrester leading the way. He ignored Alice's protests that she was too heavy, and eventually she just snuggled into his chest and enjoyed the moment. She was way too tired to wonder, and when he finally lowered her onto the soft covers of their bed, the last thing she remembered was him thanking Forester, before exhaustion claimed her.
****
Alice woke up hours later in a room lit entirely by candles. The doors to their terrace were ajar, a slight breeze ruffling the many little flames dancing on every surface of the bedroom of their suite. Had they had a power cut whilst she'd been sleeping? Alas, the London skyline was as bright as eve
r, when she propped herself up on her elbow to see better. No, this was something else entirely, and where was Lakota? The covers still carried his scent, and judging by the state of them, he hadn't slept, or if he had, he certainly hadn't slept well.
She took a deep breath to calm her galloping nerves. He would have had a lot to think about after that revelation in the hospital room, and instead of helping him work through it all, like she'd wanted to do, she'd passed out.
Some help she was. A movement on the terrace caught her attention. Lakota had stepped into her line of vision, his broad back a dark shadow against the bright skyline. Wearing nothing but low slung sweat pants he looked as though he'd just completed a workout. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his skin, and his muscles bunched and straightened as he ran his hands through his loose hair. Alice scrambled off the bed, not caring that she was naked. No one would be able to see them, and she wanted, needed to touch him, to make sure he was okay. Skin to skin, drink in his scent, the very essence that was him.
He froze when she slid the door wider to step through, and before she could reach him he'd turned round to face her. Something in his forbidding expression stopped her from closing the distance, a silent command in his eyes that froze her in her tracks, even as her insides jumped for joy.
"Alice." Even his voice held that edge of command he adopted when he was about to take charge. That edge that had her wet and yearning for his touch in seconds, that edge that told her he was in thrall of his darker needs, needs she found herself eager to please. Needs that complemented her own, the submissive inside she hadn't known she was, until he'd awoken her.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"I did, yes. What time is it?"
"Gone midnight, my sweet. I was waiting for you to wake up."
"I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I didn't mean to. I know we have to talk about—" She shrieked when he was on her in seconds, his hands fisted in her hair and his mouth on hers, branding her, taking, demanding her to open.
She did with a whimper. Stood on her tiptoes she clung to his shoulders, and he groaned when his tongue swept inside her mouth and wrapped around hers. He took charge of the kiss, his hands roaming to her ass, lifting her higher, against the hard ridge of his cock tenting the loose material of his pants. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he walked her backwards until her bare back hit the glass of the door. Pinned against the cool surface by his body, she felt rather than saw him pull his pants down, and in the next second she was impaled as he thrust home. Wet as she was for him, his almost violent thrust home hurt, and she couldn't help her yelp of pain. He pulled put and kissed her again, gentler this time, holding himself at her entrance, as he delivered little love bites to her neck. She clung to him, desperate to be filled, not caring about the pain, not caring about anything but the need to be possessed by this man, to give him the release he so clearly needed.