For the Sake of Their Son

by Catherine Mann

  “You make me sound like I was a mouse before—someone in need of a makeover, like that reporter said.”

  He cursed softly. “You heard their questions?”

  “The TV system in the private box was piping in feed from the winner’s circle.” She rolled her eyes. “It was a backhanded compliment of sorts.”

  “Don’t ever forget I saw the glow long before.”

  She couldn’t help but ask, “If you saw my glow, then why did it take you all those years to make a move on me?”

  “If I remember correctly, you made the first move.”

  She winced, some of her confidence fading at the thought that they could have still been just friends if she hadn’t impulsively kissed him that night they’d been drunk, celebrating and nostalgic. “Thanks for reminding me how I made a fool of myself.”

  “You’re misunderstanding.” He linked fingers with her, tugging her closer. “I’ve always found you attractive, but you were off-limits. Something much more valuable than a lover—those are a dime a dozen. You were, you are, my friend.”

  She wanted to believe him. “A dime a dozen. Nice.”

  “Lucy Ann, stop.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to fight with you. It doesn’t have to be that way for us this time. Trust me. I have a plan.”

  She’d planned to seduce him, keep things light, and he was going serious on her. She tried to lighten the mood again. “What fairy tale does this night come from?”

  “It could be reality.”

  “You disappoint me.” She leaned closer until their chests just brushed. Her breasts beaded in response. “Tonight, I want the fairy tale.”

  He blinked in surprise. “Okay, fair enough.” He stood, tugging her to the middle of the balcony. “We’re in the middle of Cinderella’s ball.”

  Appropriate, given her thoughts earlier. “Well, the clock is definitely ticking since Eli still wakes up in the middle of the night.”

  “Then we should make the most of this evening.” The moonlight cast a glow around them, adding to the magical air of the night. “Are you ready for supper?”

  “Honestly?” She swayed in time with the classical music.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I hadn’t wanted to know. I don’t think you know how much I want to make you happy.”

  She stepped closer, lifting their hands. “Then let’s dance.”

  “I can accommodate.” He brought her hand to rest on his shoulder, his palm sliding warmly along her waist. “I owe you for homecoming our sophomore year in high school. You had that pretty dress your aunt made. She showed me so I could make sure the flowers on your wrist corsage matched just the right shade of blue.”

  “I can’t believe you still remember about a high school dance.” Or that he remembered the color of her dress.

  “I got arrested for car theft and stood you up.” He rested his chin on top of her head. “That tends to make a night particularly memorable.”

  “I knew it was really your friends that night, not you.”

  He angled back to look in her warm chocolate-brown eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you thought that?”

  “You would have argued with me about some technical detail.” She teased, all the while too aware of the freshly showered scent of him. “You were even more stubborn in those days.”

  “I did steal that car.” He tugged her closer and stole her breath so she couldn’t speak. “And it wasn’t a technicality. I wanted to take you to the dance in decent wheels. I figured the used car dealership would never know as long as I returned it in the morning.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared what kind of car we had that night.”

  “I know. But I cared. And ended up spending the night in jail before the car dealer dismissed the charges—God only knows why.” He laughed darkly. “That night in jail was the best night’s sleep I’d gotten in a long time, being out of my father’s house.”

  God, he was breaking her heart. Their childhoods were so damaged, had they even stood a chance at a healthy adult relationship with each other? She rested her head on his shoulder and let him talk, taking in the steady beat of his pulse to help steady her own.

  “I felt like such a bastard for sleeping, for being grateful for a night’s break from my dad when I’d let you down.”

  Let her down? He’d been her port in the storm, her safe harbor. “Elliot,” she said softly, “it was a silly dance. I was more worried about how your father would react to your arrest.”

  “I wanted to give you everything,” he said, ignoring her comment about his dad. “But I let you down time after time.”

  This conversation was straying so far from her plans for seduction, her plans to work out the sensual ache inside her. “This isn’t the sort of thing Prince Charming says to Cinderella at the ball.”

  “My point is that I’m trying to give you everything now, if you’ll just let me.” He nuzzled her hair. “Just tell me what you want.”

  Every cell in her body shouted for her to say she wanted him to peel off her dress and make love to her against the castle wall. Instead, she found herself whispering, “All I want is for Eli to be happy and to lead a normal life.”

  “You think this isn’t normal.” His feet matched steps with hers as the music flowed into their every move.

  A castle? A monastery library? “Well, this isn’t your average trip to a bookstore or corner library, that’s for sure.”

  “There are playgrounds here as well as libraries. We just have to find them for Eli.”

  Lucy Ann felt a stab of guilt. Elliot was thinking of their son and she’d been thinking about sex. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It can be.”

  If only she could buy into his notion of keeping things simple long-term. “Except I never contacted you about being pregnant.”

  “And I didn’t come after you like I should have. I let my pride get stung, and hurt another woman in the process.”

  She hadn’t considered the fact that Gianna had been wronged in this situation. “What happens in the future if you find someone else...or if I do?”

  “You want monogamy?” he asked. “I can do that.”

  “You say that so quickly, but you’re also the one spinning fairy tales and games.” She looked up at him. “I’m asking honest questions now.”

  She wondered why she was pushing so hard for answers to questions that could send him running. Was she on a self-destructive path in spite of her plans to be with him? Then again, this level of honesty between them had been a long time coming.

  His feet stopped. He cupped her face until their eyes met. “Believe this. You’re the only woman I want. You’re sure as hell more woman than I can handle, so if you will stay with me, then monogamy is a piece of cake.”

  “Are you proposing?”

  “I’m proposing we stay together, sleep together, be friends, lovers, parents.”

  He wasn’t proposing. This wasn’t Cinderella’s ball after all. They were making an arrangement of convenience—to enjoy sex and friendship.

  She didn’t believe in fairy tales, damn it. So she should take exactly what he offered. But she intended to make sure he understood that convenience did not mean she would simply follow his lead.

  Eight

  Lucy Ann stepped out of his arms, and a protest roared inside Elliot. Damn it, was she leaving? Rejecting him in spite of everything they’d just said to each other? He set his jaw and stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from turning into an idiot, a fool begging her to stay.

  Except she didn’t move any farther away. She locked eyes with him, her pupils wide—from the dark or from desire? He sure as hell hoped for the latter. Her hand went to the tie of her silky wraparound dress and she tugged.

  His jaw dropped. “Um, Lucy Ann? Ar
e you about to, uh—?”

  “Yes, Elliot, I am.” She pulled open the dress, revealing red satin underwear and an enticing expanse of creamy freckled skin.

  His brain went on stun. All he could do was stare—and appreciate. Her bra cupped full breasts so perfectly his hands ached to hold and test their weight, to caress her until she sighed in arousal.

  She shrugged and the dress started to slide down, down—

  Out here.

  In the open.

  He bolted forward, a last scrap of sense telling him to shield her gorgeous body. He clasped her shoulders and pulled her to him, stopping the dress from falling away. “Lucy Ann, we’re on a balcony. Outside.”

  A purr rippled up her throat as she wriggled against his throbbing erection. “I know.”

  Her fragrance beckoned, along with access to silky skin. His mouth watered. That last bit of his sense was going to give up the fight any second.

  “We need to go back into our suite.”

  “I know that, too. So take me inside. Your room or mine. You choose as long as we’re together and naked very soon.” She leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

  The need to possess tensed all his muscles, the adrenaline rush stronger than coming into a final turn neck and neck.

  “Hell, no, I haven’t changed my mind. We’ll go to my room because there are condoms in my nightstand. And before you ask, yes, I’ve been wanting and planning to take you to bed again every minute of our journey.” He scooped her up into his arms and shouldered the doors open into their suite. The sitting area loomed quiet and empty. “Thank God Mrs. Claymore isn’t up looking for a midnight snack.”

  Her hair trailing loose over his shoulder, Lucy Ann kissed his neck in a series of nibbles up to his ear. “You’re supposed to be the race car driver who lives on the edge, and yet you’re the one being careful. That’s actually quite romantic.”

  “For you. Always careful for you.” Except he hadn’t been. He’d left her alone as a teen, gotten her pregnant and stayed away for nearly a year. He refused to let her down again in any way. She deserved better from him.

  Lucy Ann deserved the best. Period.

  She slid her hand behind his head and brought him closer for a kiss. He took her mouth as fully as he ached to take her body. With every step closer to his bedroom, his body throbbed harder and faster for her. The last few steps to the king-size bed felt like a mile. The massive headboard took up nearly the whole wall, the four posters carved like trees reaching up to the canopy. He was glad now he’d brought her here, a place they’d never been, a fantasy locale for a woman who deserved to be pampered, adored.

  Treasured.

  He set her on her feet carefully, handling her like spun glass. She tossed the dress aside in a silky flutter of red.

  Nibbling her bottom lip and releasing it slowly, seductively, Lucy Ann kicked her high heels off with a flick of each foot. “One of us is very overdressed.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I do.” She hooked her finger in the collar of his shirt and tugged down. Hard. Popping the buttons free in a burst that scattered them along the floor.

  Ooooo-kay. So much for spun glass. His libido ramped into high gear. “You seem to be taking charge so nicely I thought you might help me take care of that.”

  He looked forward to losing more buttons in her deft hands.

  “Hmm,” she hummed, backing toward the bed until her knees bumped the wooden steps. “If I’m taking charge, then I want you to take off the rest of your clothes while I watch.”

  “I believe I can comply with that request.” Shrugging off his destroyed shirt, he couldn’t take his eyes from her as she settled onto the middle of the gold comforter, surrounded by tapestry pillows and a faux-fur throw. He toed off his loafers, his bare feet sinking into the thick Persian rug.

  She reclined on the bed, pushing her heels into the mattress to scoot farther up until she could lean against the headboard. “You could have continued your underwear model days and made a mint, you know.”

  His hands stopped on his belt buckle. “You’re killing the mood for me, Lucy Ann. I prefer to forget that brief chapter of my life.”

  “Briefs?” She giggled at her own pun. “You’re right. You’re definitely more of a boxers kind of guy now.”

  Fine, then. She seemed to want to keep this lighthearted, avoiding the heavier subjects they’d touched on while dancing. Now that he thought of it, they’d never gotten around to dinner, either. Which gave him an idea, one he’d be better off starting while he still had his clothes on.

  “Stay there, just like that,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Belt buckle clanking and loose, he sprinted out to the balcony. He picked up the platter of fruit and cheese and tucked the two plates of flan on top. Balancing the makeshift feast, he padded toward their room, careful not to wake the nanny or Eli.

  Backing inside, he elbowed the door closed carefully. Turning, he breathed a sigh of relief to find Lucy Ann waiting. He hadn’t really expected her to leave...except for a hint of an instant he’d thought about how quickly she’d run from what they shared last time.

  She tipped her head to the side, her honey-streaked brown hair gliding along her shoulder like melted caramel. “You want to eat dinner now?”

  He gave her his best bad boy grin. “If you’re my plate, then yes, ma’am, I think this is a fine time for us to have supper.”

  “Okay then. Wouldn’t want to mess up our clothes.” She tugged off her bra and shimmied out of her panties, her lush curves bared and... Wow.

  He almost dropped the damn tray.

  Regaining his footing, he set the food on the edge of the bed without once taking his eyes off the long lines of her legs leading up to her caramel curls. He was definitely overdressed for what he had in mind.

  He tugged off his slacks along with his boxers. His erection sprang free.

  She smiled, her eyes roving over him in an appreciative sweep that made him throb harder. “Elliot?”

  “Yes?” He clasped her foot in his hand, lifting it and kissing the inside of her ankle where a delicate chain with a fairy charm surprised him on such a practical woman. What else had he missed about Lucy Ann in the year they’d been apart?

  “Do you know what would make this perfect?”

  He kissed the inside of her calf. “Name it. I’ll make it happen.”

  “More lights.”

  He looked up from her leg to her confident eyes reflecting the bedside lamp. “Lights?”

  “It’s been quite a while since I saw you naked, and last time was rather hurried and with bad lighting.”

  She was a total and complete turn-on. Everything about her.

  “Can do,” he said.

  He placed her leg back on the bed and turned on the massive cast-iron chandelier full of replica candles that supplemented the glow of the bedside lamp. The rich colors of the bed and the heavy curtains swept back on either side somehow made Lucy Ann seem all the more pale and naked, her creamy flesh as tempting as anything he’d ever seen. The feel of her gaze on him heated his blood to molten lava, his whole body on fire for her.

  But no way in hell would he let himself lose control. He took the time to reach for the bedside table, past his vintage copy of Don Quixote. Dipping into the drawer, he pulled out a condom. He dropped it on the bed before hitching a knee on the edge and joining her on the mattress. Taking his time, even as urgency thrummed through him, he explored every curve, enjoying the way goose bumps rose along her bared flesh.

  She met him stroke for stroke, caress for caress, until he couldn’t tell for certain who was mirroring whom. Their hands moved in tandem, their sighs syncing up, until they both breathed faster. He lost track of how long they ju
st enjoyed each other, touching and seeking their fill. At some point, she rolled the condom over him, but he only half registered it since pleasure pulsed through him at her touch—and at the feel of her slick desire on his fingertips as he traced and teased between her legs.

  Holding himself in check grew tougher by the second so he angled away, reaching for the platter of food on the corner of the bed.

  He pushed the tray along the bed to put it in better reach. Then he plucked a strawberry and placed the plump fruit between his teeth. He slid over her, blanketing her. He throbbed between her legs, nudging, wanting. He leaned closer and pressed the strawberry to her mouth. Her lips parted to close over the plump fruit until they met in a kiss.

  She bit into the strawberry and he thrust inside her. The fruity flavor burst over his taste buds at the same time sensation sparked through him. Pleasure. The feel of her clamping around him, holding him deep inside her as a “yes” hissed between her teeth. Her head pressed back into the bolster, her eyes sliding closed.

  He moved as her jaw worked, chewing the strawberry. Her head arched back, her throat gliding with a slow swallow. Her breasts pushed upward, beading tight and hard.

  Inviting.

  Leaning on one elbow, he reached for another berry. He squeezed the fruit in his fist, dribbling the juice over her nipple. She gasped in response. He flicked his tongue over her, tasting her, rolling the beaded tip in his mouth until she moaned for more. The taste of ripe fruit and a hint of something more had him ready to come apart inside her already.

  Thrusting over and over, he pushed aside the need to finish, hard and fast. Aching to make this last, for her and for him.

  How could he possibly have stayed away from her for so long? For any time at all? How could he have thought for even a second he could be with anyone other than her? They were linked together. They always had been, for as far back as he could remember.

  She was his, damn it.

  The thought rocketed through him, followed closely by her sighs and moans of completion. Her hands flung out, twisting in the comforter, her teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip as she bit back the cry that might wake others.