Let's Pretend (Romantic Comedy, Contemporary, Second Chance, Sensual)

by DeVere, Monique

  Belle placed a chilled bottle of Chardonnay, glass and bowl of strawberries on the counter beside the en suite sink. After a long, nerve-frazzling day, she figured she deserved to relax in a bubble bath with a glass of wine.

  She turned on the mixer taps to fill the tub, then gathered her hair into a haphazard knot on top of her head. An hour or two should be enough to banish Luc from her mind. Out of sight, out of mind was a good saying. Adding a generous measure of sensuous-smelling bubble bath to the water, she sat on the edge of the tub and watched the water foam into luxurious bubbles.

  Belle couldn’t wait to sink into the welcoming warmth. It was this thought that had her stripping off her clothes in a hurry. She tossed them to the floor, then poured a glass of icy cold wine, grabbed the bottle, and stepped into pure pleasure. She transferred the wine bottle to the wide bath ledge beside her, the foam caressing her body as she slowly slipped into the warm water.

  “Ahh.” Belle sunk beneath the thick blanket of bubbles until it covered her up to her neck.

  Just what she needed!

  Time away from Luc would cure her confusing thoughts and fix her conflicting emotions. Ever since he’d turned up at her grandmother’s house, regret and longing had become Belle’s constant companions.

  Reaching for her wineglass with one hand, she selected a plump strawberry with the other and bit into the succulent fruit. Sweet juice saturated her taste buds. She took a sip of Chardonnay and savoured the creamy sensation. Right after dinner she’d managed to sneak off to her room, leaving Luc involved in a passionate discussion with her mother about art.

  Thankfully, no one had seemed to notice when she left the table to take a handful of dishes to the kitchen. Once she’d stacked the dishwasher, she’d found she couldn’t face the stress of spending more time deceiving her family and had grabbed one of the two bottles of wine and a bowl of strawberries from the fridge, and crept off to her room.

  With a bit of luck, Luc won’t come in search of her until she’d had time to unwind and come up with an effective plan to keep him at bay.

  But did she really want to end this strange old-new relationship they’d fallen into in just a couple of days? She knew Luc better than she knew anyone, yet there was a nascence to their time together that almost felt as if they were starting afresh.

  Her stomach did a funny nervous shimmy whenever he came near. To begin with, she’d put her reaction down to not being completely sure of what he would do from one minute to the next. The man was so unpredictable he made her head spin. She’d eventually admitted her reaction was purely one of a woman awakened to the spine-tingling excitement of an alpha male’s attention.

  Belle allowed herself a secret smile. In the privacy of her mind and her bathroom, she could freely admit Luc was one sexy man. She was sure he knew his effect on her; it was impossible for her to hide it, and he’d taken advantage of every opportunity to torture her with his soft kisses and secret caresses.

  And what must appear to be intimate whispers, which had in fact been a way for him to ensure she knew he expected them to have that conversation—the one he’d insisted on in exchange for playing along with her pretence.

  Belle had to admit she wasn’t looking forward to talking about their broken relationship. What if Luc didn’t understand her fear? What if he thought her a coward for running out on him? What if he couldn’t understand that she’d never managed to get over her father’s death and was so petrified of losing him too that it had started to make her ill?

  Belle wasn’t ready to face Luc. Her gaze slid to the three-quarters full wine bottle beside her.

  Not stone cold sober, at any rate...

  ~*~

  BELLE OPENED the en suite’s door and stepped out, unclipping her hair from the haphazard mass on her head to let it fall around her shoulders in a disordered array of sandy blonde curls. She carried a bowl of strawberries and an empty wine glass in one hand as she used the other to shake out her curls.

  One look at her, and Luc’s heartbeat altered to an uneven tempo. She was stunning. Excitement kicked in his stomach—she had his full concentration. In fact, every part of his body stood to immediate attention.

  He couldn’t stop staring.

  The champagne-coloured silk negligee robe hugged her curves with a sensuality that stole his breath, while the embroidered lace that trimmed the shoulders and sleeves brought to mind the words classy, sexy, feminine, and delicate. The same words he’d thought when he’d first seen the negligee set, and had bought it for Belle two Christmases ago because he just couldn’t wait to take it off her.

  She’d tied the satin belt tightly around her small waist, probably to ensure the robe didn’t slither apart as she walked, but Luc was sure Belle didn’t realise the overhead light made the satin garment see-through. He hid a smile; it was clear from the way her beaded nipples nudged the material stretched across her full breasts that she wore nothing beneath the robe. For his benefit? Or had she simply not packed the nightdress because she’d expected to sleep alone? It was possible. Belle usually slept in the buff.

  Whatever the reason, he was secretly glad.

  When she saw him standing in the middle of the room, a startled breath rushed from her, and she paused near the bathroom door. “I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” She glanced at the strawberries, then offered them to him. “Would you like some of these?”

  Only if she allowed him to eat them off her. “No.”

  Had she been hiding from him in an effort to avoid the discussion he sought? There was a time, not so long ago, when he wouldn’t have thought twice about following her into the bathroom to either sit on the floor and talk to her while she relaxed in the bath, or join her in the tub. Now that bond they used to have seemed to belong to some other couple an eternity away. The woman who stood before him now wanted to sever every connection between them. Anguish rose inside him, and he had to fight a sudden urge to pull her into his arms and remind her how it used to be between them.

  “We have to talk,” he said instead.

  “Can we do that tomorrow? To borrow one of your terms, I’m wrecked-tired.” She deposited the fruit on the dresser.

  As she passed him, Luc slipped his hand around her waist. He caught a whiff of wine and strawberries as he pulled her to him.

  “Tired? Or tipsy, Belle?”

  He expected her to recoil at his touch; it had almost become a habit in the weeks leading up to the split. All except that last night when she’d made love with him like she was saying goodbye—because she was. He knew she tolerated his caresses this weekend because he made sure her family were always within sight. To flinch from him in their presence would attract questions she didn’t want to answer.

  When she didn’t draw back, it threw him off kilter.

  She looked up, meeting his stare as she placed her hands against his chest to steady herself.

  “It isn’t a crime to relax in a bubble bath with a bottle of wine, Luc.”

  He raised his brows. “You drank a whole bottle while you were in there?”

  “Not entirely.” The little giggle and slight sway told him if she hadn’t finished the bottle, she very nearly had.

  His arm tightened slowly, edging her closer until he had her pressed against him. Her soft curves tempted Luc to touch her, slide his hands over every part of her body the way he used to. Only now, he didn’t have that right. Belle had made it clear she no longer wanted him in her life. Why would she welcome his touch?

  But she wasn’t pulling away as he’d expected; instead, her gaze dipped to his mouth in a kind of intoxicated fascination. When her gaze flew to his, her eyes darkened to indigo as she glided her tongue across her lips. She wanted him to kiss her, and it was all he could do not to submit to his desire to do so.

  Luc drew in a breath filled with the scent of feminine soap, floral shampoo and...wine. Battling the urge to pull her onto the bed and make love to her, he cleared his throat. “Don’t look at me like that, sweeth
eart.”

  He’d thought he could play it cool. Grab the opportunity to spend time with Belle in an environment that forced her to be civil toward him. He’d even been given a better deal once he’d made it to Connecticut, and she’d asked him to pretend all was well with their marriage. Only, they both knew that was far from the case.

  He should have stayed away.

  When she had told him of her decision to end their marriage, he hadn’t asked for an explanation. At first, he had thought she would come around if he gave her space. Then when he’d realised she was serious, he had hidden his hurt and stood behind pride, refusing to beg her to give him a reason. Now he found he couldn’t simply give her up without a fight. The time had come for Belle to offer more of a motive than irreconcilable differences.

  When Mia had informed him of the weekend get-together as if he’d already known about it, the desire to see Belle had been too strong for him to resist.

  Now here he was, knee-deep in deception and no closer to understanding Belle’s motivation for divorcing him. Add to that the fact he’d never wanted to kiss her so badly.

  “Like what?” Distracted, her gaze dipped to his mouth again; the slumberous stare sent warmth flowing through his loins.

  Sanguinity unfurled in his chest. He’d fallen in love with Belle from the moment she’d turned exhausted eyes on him and said, “So you’re the infamous Lucas Delaney from London?” And he wouldn’t lose her without a fight. If these last months were any indication, life would be unbearable without her. He’d witnessed the Irish saying firsthand—it was indeed a cold house without his wife.

  He laid his free palm against her cheek, stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “Like you want to devour me.” His voice came out in an intimate murmur. He tried to smile to lighten the moment, but his face wouldn’t relax. “When you look at me like that, it makes me want to present myself as a banquet.” He suspected the smile didn’t reach his eyes either.

  “Are you offering yourself for me to feast on, Luc?” Belle’s voice took on a playful, yet sensual husky tone that shot what little blood he had left in his head south.

  She leaned her mouth an inch closer to his.

  “Isobel, you’re playing a dangerous game. Once I start to kiss you, I’m not going to stop until we’re both panting and replete. Do you understand me?”

  She gave him a sexy smirk and bit the corner of her bottom lip. “I’m not sure if that’s a promise or a threat.”

  He couldn’t be sure either. Every male hormone in his body urged him to kiss her good and hard, until she was begging him to make love to her, while the part of his brain responsible for logical thought—the part that wasn’t completely devoid of blood—told him to back off. If Belle hadn’t consumed so much wine, she wouldn’t have allowed things to get this far. And she’d never forgive him if he took advantage of her vulnerability tonight.

  “Belle, I doubt you’ll remember doing this tomorrow.”

  Her eyelids brushed down to half-mast as her gaze zeroed in on his mouth. She licked her lips in a slow, tormenting glide. “You have the most beautiful lips; do you know that?” Her finger traced his bottom lip.

  Luc gulped, then chuckled to cover the groan her compliment tore from him. Turning down Belle’s unspoken invitation was going to be harder than the organ in his trousers begging to get out. “Honey, let’s get you tucked into bed. You’ll feel better once you sleep this off.”

  With a lethargic smile, she cupped the back of his head just as he started to turn her toward her bed, bringing his mouth to hers. She snuck her soft tongue into his mouth, inciting his response. He took the kiss and turned it into an erotic caress that was deep and hot and left them breathing hard. When she pulled away, her dark blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “I know exactly what I’m doing, Luc.”

  His good intentions went up in smoke as every part of him came alive. Just for tonight, he’d believe Belle wanted him as much as he longed for her. Just for tonight, he’d pretend everything was all right between them. But when tomorrow came he planned to win the battle for his marriage. Because Luc knew after this weekend, he’d never be able to give her up—she was his, and he loved her. To him, “for better or for worse” meant just that. He’d given her time to reconsider, but the decree nisi he’d received a few weeks ago told him she did not intend to do so.

  He’d believed it prudent to give her time to calm down; he now knew that to be a foolish mistake. He shouldn’t have let her go so easily.

  Luc dropped his gaze to her lips, parted and swollen from their last kiss as she waited for him to make the decision. He couldn’t summon the strength to fight the urge to kiss her—he needed her more than his next breath.

  Her cool hands snuck beneath his shirt, sliding up over rigid stomach muscles on their way to his chest.

  “I’ve always loved your body.” She lightly drew her short nails down his pecs, scraping his flat nipples.

  He swallowed back a groan.

  Little minx! She knew exactly what that did to him. Clearly, she wanted to tease him out of his skin—as if he wasn’t already heavy and throbbing for her.

  Belle leaned into him. “It always makes me so…” She reached up on tiptoe to press her cheek against his, her lips touching his ear. “…hot.”

  This time no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t prevent the rough groan from escaping his throat. Like a backdraft, her words caused a rapid combustion. He tangled his hands in her glossy hair and covered her mouth with his. Good and hard was how he wanted to kiss her, and evidently she felt the same way, because she pulled her hands from underneath his shirt and slid them into his hair. She held him while she gave herself over to his kiss, kissing him back with equal ardour until they both fought to catch their breaths, only to lock onto each other’s lips a second after breaking away for air.

  Soon Luc lost track of where one kiss ended and the next began. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop kissing Belle now he’d started—not even if someone held a gun to his head.

  Lips sliding against lips, tongues gliding together, Belle’s hands stripping off his clothes; he had to slow things down because his body wanted to rush ahead and leave his mind behind. If he didn’t take control, this would be over way too soon.

  The problem was that when she kissed him like this, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth before slipping her tongue into his mouth for him to suckle, he didn’t feel capable of finding control.

  He growled, enveloping her in his arms, hugging her tight as he reclaimed control of the kiss. Months of celibacy seemed to enhance the heat surging through him. Was it always like this? This intense? Like nothing mattered or even made sense except the sensation of Belle in his arms, the tingle of her kiss in his mouth? He stroked his tongue against hers in a primal message that pulled a deep moan from her as she sucked his tongue in a message of her own.

  Luc backed them up until he felt the bed behind him. He sat on the edge and pulled her between his legs. “I pray to God you know what you’re doing, Isobel.”

  She held his gaze and stroked his face. His evening stubble rasping against her palms sounded overly loud in the stillness of their room. Was his stubble too rough? He knew Belle’s skin was soft, and he’d given her beard burn once or twice before. Should he shave?

  He was about to ask when Belle smiled down at him, lightly ran her nails over his cheeks to his chin, and, as if reading his mind, said, “Don’t shave it off—I like it. It’s very sexy.” She brought her lips to his in a tease of a kiss. “You are very sexy. And I’ve told you already. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Good. Because I don’t think I can stop now.” Sinking his hands in her hair, he kissed her properly, enjoying the sensation of her silky robe moving smoothly against his naked inner thighs. Without him being fully aware, between them, he and Belle had removed most of his clothes, leaving only his black boxer briefs.

  Belle smoothed her hands over him as if she wanted to touch everywher
e all at once. Her palms slid over his shoulders, over his deltoid and down to his biceps. She tightened her hands on the bulge of muscle and mewled against his mouth with renewed passion.

  He praised God his job forced him to stay fit. But he knew the extra hours he’d spent in the gym the last few months working off a hefty dose of frustration had given his body a more ripped appearance. From Belle’s reaction, she liked the result.

  Luc brought his hands to her waist, finding the knot in the silk belt. His hands shook as though it were the first time he’d unknotted a woman’s satin garment to reveal her naked body. He fumbled with the knot until it came loose a second before frustrated impatience set in.

  The thin satiny material of her negligee robe brushed against his hands as he separated the edges. Releasing Belle from the kiss, he dropped his gaze to take in the female body he had missed, the body that filled his dreams with liquid heat on a regular basis. As if in slow motion, his hands parted the robe far more leisurely than his eyes would have liked.

  When he finally saw her sexy body, the breath stalled in his throat. It seemed he wasn’t the only one putting in extra time at the gym. Belle had always been slim; her work schedule ensured that. But she’d been soft curves and slender limbs. Now her body sported toned feminine muscles on her stomach, arms, and thighs. Luc spanned her waist with his hands, running his thumbs over the ridge of her external obliques. Heat surged through him; his wife was hotter than he’d thought possible.

  Belle sunk her fingers in his hair, letting her head fall back. The action brought her breasts inches from his face—his mouth. The full, dusky-pink tipped mounds invited his attention, and he wasted no time in complying. Nuzzling first one hardened peak then the other, he delighted in her deep moan of pleasure.

  Groaning, he pulled Belle onto the bed in a smooth move that had her on her back next to him without Luc having to release his ministration on her breast. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he suckled her. She arched her back in a silent greedy plea for more.