Derrick made his way up to Eva’s breasts, admiring the way the nipples strained up at him like perfect little chocolate berries. He curled his tongue around one dark tip and sucked it before moving to the other.
The demand for satisfaction beat through him insistently. He positioned himself at the drenched entrance to her body, cupped her hips with his long fingers, and with a slow, easy stroke, he slid into her inch by inch.
The sound of her long, low moan sent shivers down his spine. She quaked beneath him, but he took his time, using unhurried, steady movements. Canting her hips upward, he dug deeper but maintained the same slow pace, and she curled backward with her eyes closed and the hands on either side of her head curled into tight fists.
He lowered his head and kissed her breasts, flicking the walnut-colored tips with his tongue, sucking and kissing the soft underside of each one.
“Is this how you hate me?” he breathed as he moved in and out of her in slow motion. His lips migrated up to her neck. He nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear. “I love how you hate. All hot and wet around me . . . driving me insane . . . making me lose my damn mind.”
Panting, she reached around to grab his buttocks and sink her nails into the taut flesh, encouraging him to dig deeper, prodding him to drive harder. She lifted her feet off the bed and drew her knees into her chest. “More . . . more.”
Raw need clawed up his spine at her desperate pleas, even as he struggled to contain it. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, but he could feel her internal muscles clamping down, drawing him further into the wet channel, clutching him as if she would never set him free.
He tightened the muscles of his buttocks to keep from ramming into her and prematurely ejaculating before she got her pleasure.
She constricted her internal muscles, effectively wrenching control away from him.
“Damn . . .” he groaned. “Damn . . . you . . .”
Sucking deep, shuddering breaths between his teeth, he accelerated his movements, going deeper, pounding harder. Her face contorted into lines of sensual agony as he pumped in and out of her. He loved to watch her. She held him enthralled and had complete control over his body at this moment.
He knew the exact minute she came. Her lips parted on a silent cry, and her nails dug deeper into the skin of his buttocks.
Watching her reaction and feeling her convulse around him shattered the last of his reserved strength. Finally, after months of deprivation, he released inside of her with a broken groan, his body tight as a quivering bow.
Blistering fulfillment followed, and he fell over onto his side and collapsed beside her.
****
Derrick reached for the remote control beside the bed and turned out the light.
His voice came to her in the darkness from a few inches away. “I’ll have Svana move your things in here tomorrow. We’re sharing a room from now on.”
After handing down his edict, Derrick rolled onto his back and almost instantly fell asleep. He only needed a few hours to recharge. She should sleep, too, because when he awoke, he’d reach for her again, and she needed the rest to keep up with him.
Sleep escaped her, and she stayed awake for a while, listening to the sound of his even breathing. When her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she studied his face. He looked so different when he slept, with the hard lines gone. He looked younger, almost boyish.
She grappled with conflicting feelings. Loving and hating him at the same time. Wanting nothing to do with him, but craving his touch. It hadn’t taken much for him to disprove her words tonight. She hated being so weak, but her own body had called her out for the liar she was.
Even worse, she’d been ineffective in protecting her heart. The battle she’d waged against him had proven to be as effective as using a feather to beat back the advance of a boulder.
He still owned her heart, just as sure as if he’d emblazoned his initials on it with a hot iron.
She loved him. She’d never stopped.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
****
In the middle of the night, Derrick rolled onto his side and reached for Eva. His hand dragged across her skin, skimming her slightly rounded stomach and then pushing upward to squeeze her breast. She moaned in her sleep.
He brought her awake with featherlight kisses to her neck and breasts. The soft, feminine sounds she made provoked an urgent response inside him. He guided her leg across his hip and inserted his hard flesh between her legs.
Wrapped around each other, their bodies moved together as one, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and hip to hip. Rapid thrusting quickly brought them to the edge. She panted her sweet breath into the cords of his neck. Derrick’s fast pumping silently coaxed her forward until, with a shuddering groan, he tumbled headlong into ecstasy behind her.
With a little sigh, she went back to sleep.
In the dark, he watched her and brushed her hair back from her cheek. It seemed nothing could temper his lust for her.
He preferred his own space in bed, but tonight he made an exception. He might as well, anyway. Other women had understood his need for space, but not Eva. No matter the position they fell asleep in, she always migrated over to his side of the bed and curled into him at some point while they slept.
He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her.
****
In the morning, Derrick awoke to Eva’s soft bottom snug against his groin. He shifted slightly, and she wiggled closer, setting his loins on fire. His penis did what it always did when he woke up next to her—hardened like quick-setting concrete.
Last night he could tell she’d grown tired, partly due, no doubt, to the pregnancy. She used to have more stamina, but he had to remember, with a baby growing inside of her, he needed to ease up. In his current erect state, he found the prospect of lying next to her like a eunuch unappealing. Resisting the urge to wake her up, he freed his arm from under her body and, with a low groan of regret, rolled away.
“Down boy,” he whispered to his erection.
While shaving in the bathroom, Derrick thought about how to proceed in the relationship. She was the affectionate type, always wanting to touch and snuggle. Having her in the master bedroom would mean waking up every morning like he did today, with her soft, warm body seared to his, and the scent of her tattooed into his skin.
He had to be careful because Eva dulled his instincts of self-preservation, making it easier for her to lead him around by the nose if he wasn’t careful. He’d seen a similar result between Phineas and his mother.
Sometimes he wondered if Phineas had known that his mother resumed the affair with his biological father. Thinking back, there had been signs of her deceit. The frequent trips, the long periods during the day when she couldn’t be reached at all, the hushed tones when she talked on the phone. Could he have known and simply ignored it, choosing to turn a blind eye in order to hold on to the trophy wife he’d fallen completely and irrevocably in love with?
Love. Derrick wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.
Everyone talked about the beauty of it, but few ventured to discuss the damage the rejection of love produced. It destroyed marriages, made fools of intelligent men, and crushed the souls of innocent children.
He washed his face and slapped on aftershave, his movements jerky, trying but failing to expunge the memory that he’d never been able to rid himself of. The memory of the one and only time he’d ever met his biological father.
At nine years old, he’d found out where he worked, lied to the family driver, and convinced him to take him to the address. He’d thought that maybe if his father met him . . . maybe, just maybe he would realize he’d made a mistake and want him. After all, everyone said Derrick was good-looking and tall for his age. Surely that counted for something.
But it hadn’t. He’d never forgotten the words Roarke Sr. said. “You have a father. And I already have a son.” The devastating words had crushed him.
Of course his mother had been furious, but by then, he’d shut down. As she scolded him for sneaking off and going against her wishes, his only regret had been getting the driver into trouble.
From that moment on, he learned to maintain a certain emotional distance from those around him, including family. It was a protective mechanism that worked for years. Foolishly, he’d allowed Eva to penetrate that wall. He’d lowered his guard and let her get close, sharing pieces of his past with her he hadn’t shared with anyone else. He didn’t need to get burned twice to understand fire burned, and Eva was pure fire. Deceptively soft and with an angelic face, it made it easier for her to cut a man off at the knees if she were so inclined. That’s why he had to be careful with her.
Ever since he’d seen her in that restaurant with her friends, she’d had an unbreakable hold on him he couldn’t shake. He was starting to wonder if he even wanted to.
****
Eva yawned and stretched. An inordinate amount of contentment filled her body, and no wonder, after being made love to by Derrick.
He had accused her of purposely coming into his bedroom to force a response, and he’d been right, though she hadn’t realized it until he called her out.
She rolled over into the spot on the bed he’d vacated. The sheets were cool, meaning he’d probably been up at the crack of dawn. The sheets and pillows smelled like him, and her body tingled with delicious sensations. She missed him already. Boy, she had it bad.
Chapter Twelve
A few Saturdays later, Eva strolled into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hoffman,” Svana said. “Breakfast on the terrace today?”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
“What would you like?”
“Surprise me.” On her way out the door, Eva asked, “Have you seen my husband this morning?” My husband. She never got tired of hearing the way those two words sounded together.
“He’s in the garage with Saunders discussing a problem with one of the cars.”
Svana started to prepare breakfast while Eva sat at the table on the terrace. Heat lamps kept the fall temperature at a comfortable degree, but soon it would become too cold to sit out there.
Saunders and Derrick walked up the stone steps, engrossed in deep conversation.
Her heart rate stepped up its pace. He really was beautiful. His features hard and masculine, his mouth—her body flushed with heat—sensuous and pleasure giving in a way she looked forward to on a regular basis. As her pregnancy became more apparent, Derrick limited their lovemaking out of concern for her and the baby. Once the doctor confirmed it was perfectly acceptable for them to continue having intercourse, he no longer denied himself, and they made love regularly, like two randy teenagers who’d recently discovered the joy of sex.
In the midst of explaining something to Saunders, Derrick gestured with his hands. The sight of his long, lean fingers reminded her of how they often caressed her skin and brought her trembling body to the edge before they joined together and he pushed her over into a climax.
She sighed. She loved him so much it hurt.
When he saw her seated at the table, he paused, and his features softened for a fraction before he returned to his explanation.
A sign. A little one, but a sign nonetheless that the closeness she felt to him was mutual. Optimism flickered in her chest. She saw those signs often nowadays. They were growing closer, or as close as Derrick allowed anyone to get to him.
Their changed relationship nurtured the love she already had, but she didn’t know for certain how he felt about her. He cared for her, but how much?
The larger her waistline grew, the more protective he became by constantly following up and making sure she was eating well and getting enough exercise. He even got involved in her nightly sessions of rubbing cocoa butter on her skin to prevent stretch marks. On more than one occasion, she’d reminded him she wouldn’t be the first woman to give birth, and millions of women did it every day. Although she complained about him being overprotective, she enjoyed the attention he lavished on her.
“Did you sleep well?” Derrick asked after Saunders disappeared into the house.
Eva nodded. “Did you?”
“Like a baby.” He smiled. He looked relaxed and seemed in a good mood. His demeanor reminded her of the good times they used to share on St. Simons Island. “How’d the shopping go yesterday?”
“It went well. I found the cutest little outfits and a few more stuffed animals.”
Derrick’s lips quirked upward. “She’s not even born yet, and she’s got more clothes than I do and more toys than Toys ‘R’ Us.”
“They were so cute, though. I couldn’t resist.”
She was used to his teasing, even though he encouraged her to get whatever she thought best for the baby. In another week, the nursery would be finished. A local artist was coming to paint a mural of purple dinosaurs dancing in a field of marigolds on the wall. Derrick thought the design looked wacky. She thought it was adorable, and since he’d given her carte blanche over the nursery, her baby would awaken every morning to the sight of polka-dot curtains and purple dinosaurs in a field of marigolds.
“I’d like to see them after breakfast. Did you buy anything for yourself?”
“A couple of outfits for the charity events, like you suggested.”
“I’d like to see those, too.”
They had attended a few business dinners, but he’d informed her to expect the invitations to increase as people grew accustomed to him as the head of HLC. Most they wouldn’t attend, but some—like the upcoming charity events—were a must.
“How is the court case going?”
“The whole thing is ridiculous,” he said with frustration. “They’re throwing everything at us in court, from fraud to claiming that my mother somehow influenced him or threatened him into changing his will. Never mind she’s been dead for fifteen years. Even if she had some influence over him when she was alive, I think that influence would have waned considerably in recent years.
“They’re all so used to Phineas taking care of them, they’re in panic mode. He bought them homes, paid for their children’s educations, and each of his brothers got a substantial monthly allowance.”
“I understand why they’re panicked, don’t you? He’s taken care of them for years, and now they have to fend for themselves. Seems strange he cut them off like that.”
“Yeah. Unless . . .” Derrick frowned. “Maybe that wasn’t the intention. He used to say all the time if you don’t work for it, you won’t appreciate it. None of his brothers worked in the business, and he only has one niece who expressed any interest in working for HLC, and she’s in the New York office.” He paused, the wheels in his head turning. “Maybe he didn’t cut them off. The reason he left everything to me was so that I could continue to mete out the allowances and disbursements. If he gave them a chunk of the estate, they’d squander their inheritance in no time.”
“So . . . what are you going to do?”
He sat back, a thoughtful frown on his face. “I’ll call the attorneys on Monday and tell them to talk to the other side and see if we can mediate an agreement. I’ll be able to head up the business according to Phineas’s wishes, and they’ll continue to receive income and the other perks they received just like when he was alive.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“I hope so. It’ll be a relief to get this behind me.”
Svana came out with plates of food. Biscuits with redeye gravy and chunks of country ham on the side. She left and came back with bowls of fresh fruit drizzled with honey, tall glasses of orange juice, and coffee for Derrick.
Eva took a deep breath, bracing herself to tell Derrick her news. “I hired an investigator to search for my father.”
After a split-second pause, Derrick continued to slice the ham on his plate. “When did you decide to look for him?”
“Right after we got married. You said I could use the money you put into my
account in any way I want.”
“You can. It’s your money.” He lifted a slice of ham into his mouth and chewed. “How much have you spent so far?” When she told him the amount, his eyebrows raised in shock.
The skepticism in his eyes made her respond defensively. “I know it’s expensive, but the investigator feels like he’s close.”
“It’s your money. I said you could spend it however you choose.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to think it’s all a waste. He thinks my father could be in California, which makes sense because my mother lived out there for a while after she left school.”
He set down his fork carefully. “Eva—”
“Don’t say it.” She gripped the fork and knife in her hands. “I know I’m taking a risk because he didn’t want me when I was born. I know that. But people change, Derrick.”
He looked steadily at her. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up because you might get hurt. You’re excited by the prospect of finding your father, but you have to be prepared for the fact that he might not be excited to be found.”
Giving her head a vigorous shake, she swallowed down the lump of emotion filling her throat.
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Then why would you say something so cruel?”
“I’m not being cruel. Listen to me—”
“No, because you’re wrong. I can’t believe you’d be so negative.”
“I’m not being negative. I’m being realistic. You can’t keep looking at the world with this Pollyanna viewpoint—”
“I’m not Pollyanna! Stop saying that. The world is not all bad. And what is so wrong with me wanting to find my father? My mother’s gone, and all I know about him is that he was a teenager, too, and he didn’t want to be a father. The photo of him is so worn I can barely see his face. I could have brothers and sisters, and he’ll be a grandfather soon.”
They sat in tense silence for a few moments.
A Hard Man to Love Page 9