The Morning After

by Michelle Reid

  He’d gone away conceding everything to a tough-talking, utterly immovable César—still belligerent, still feeling as if he had been manipulated by both César and Susie, but with his good business-sense winning over bruised ego in the end.

  And the only consolation that he had gained from the whole episode was a total reassurance that Annie was exactly where she wanted to be.

  ‘This whole business has been rough on everybody,’ was César’s unsympathetic reply to her now. ‘I don’t see why your half-brother should come out of it any less battle-scarred than the rest of us. Susie looked like a whipped dog that day he announced you were going to front his launch into Europe,’ he added grimly. ‘I don’t know how I kept my hands off his cruel throat.’

  ‘Poor Susie,’ Annie sighed, turning to watch the helicopter fly out of sight. ‘Do you think they’ll manage to sort out their personal problems after this?’ she asked worriedly.

  ‘We have given them the means by which to keep communications open with the Adamas deal. The rest,’ he said grimly, ‘is up to them. But, you know, with a bit of trust on his side, Angelica, things need not have become as bad as they did for him and Susie.’

  He was right, and she didn’t argue with him. In fact, she had always tried to get Todd to tell Susie the truth about their own relationship, because she had known that it was causing unnecessary problems for both of them. If he had done, then maybe none of this would have happened.

  Which was a bit of a double-edged sword, really, she mused wryly, because then she would not have been standing where she was standing right now—in the arms of the man she loved!

  ‘And anyway,’ César concluded with a shrug, ‘I have no wish to dwell on their love-life any more than I have done already. My own love-life is complicated enough without taking on board their problems as well.’

  ‘I am not complicated at all!’ she denied, turning in the crook of his arm to glare at him. ‘In fact—’ she pouted ‘—I bet you’ve never had such an easy conquest as me! How long did it take?’ she demanded. ‘Twenty-four hours from meeting to getting me into your bed?’

  He smiled with his mouth, but his eyes didn’t; they darkened into a breathtaking seriousness. ‘Four years,’ he corrected. ‘I spent four years aching for you. You tormented my mind, my heart, my empty soul…’

  Sighing, he pulled her closer. ‘I don’t think I will ever come to terms with what one urgent phone call did to the next four years of my life,’ he murmured heavily. ‘I had it all set up—the party at my London apartment, the contact who would bring you to it. Then there was the teeth-gritting, electric anticipation of actually getting to meet you in the flesh at last. Then the call that forced me away that night.’ His mouth tightened. ‘And everything just seemed to fall apart around me. I hated Alvarez for doing that to me.’

  ‘And hated me for letting him come near me,’ she added hollowly.

  ‘No!’ He denied that. ‘I hated you for ruining any hope I had of ever approaching you. Anyone else, Angelica,’ he muttered painfully. ‘Anyone else and it wouldn’t have mattered. I am no prude! But my own sister’s husband?’ His sigh was tense. ‘It left me with nothing—nothing to cling on to, you understand?’

  ‘Don’t,’ she whispered, settling her trembling fingers against the grim tension of his mouth.

  He kissed the fingers, but also dislodged them with a small, grim shake of his head. ‘Then suddenly there you were again,’ he continued, his eyes dark green with emotion. ‘Being thrust into my life again, this time threatening Susie’s happiness!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Shush.’ He silenced her. ‘I will finish. Mistakes are mistakes, Angelica. All of us have had to acknowledge that one way or another over these last two weeks. But before the mistakes were exposed I had spent four years seeing you as the kind of woman I could never care for—should never care for,’ he qualified.

  Then he smiled very ruefully. ‘It did not stop me from wanting you, though,’ he admitted, dropping a kiss on her tender mouth. ‘It simply turned that want into a frustrated kind of ache that gnawed at me every time I saw your face on a billboard or in a magazine or—’ He stopped and sighed.

  ‘Then the Susie thing came up,’ he went on. ‘And, I have to admit it, I was quite ready to pay you back for four years of hell. I called it revenge for myself.’

  He kissed her again before she could say anything. ‘And I knew it the moment I saw you in the flesh that night—it was the first time I had actually been in the same company as you, did you know that?’ His expression was wry. ‘Four years lusting after one special woman, and I hadn’t even met her!’

  ‘Fantasising gone mad.’ She smiled.

  He laughed, but it wasn’t with any humour. ‘A lot of things gone mad,’ he agreed. ‘But I learned one very dangerous thing on that first meeting. And it was that holding you in my arms was like having all that madness turning into sanity. It felt right,’ he said softly. ‘It felt good! And, even more dangerous, I knew you too were shocked by how good it felt.

  ‘After that,’ he claimed with more his usual arrogance, ‘you really did not stand a chance. I may have used all kinds of excuses for bringing you here, but I knew deep down inside that I was bringing you here for myself. I wanted you for myself. Susie no longer mattered. The Alvarez thing no longer mattered. From then on the only mistakes being made were because of the lies entangling both of us. I thought I was dealing with a very spirited, very tough, very experienced woman.’ If it was possible, his eyes darkened even further. ‘So I made love to the woman I believed you to be, and found I had defiled an angel—’

  ‘No,’ she protested. ‘Don’t call me that! It’s not true and I always hated it. It was just another lie I lived with, can’t you see that?’ Her breasts moved against his chest with a small heave of pain. ‘Most of my life has been spent playing a lie. First with my mother’s help.’ The hurt that memory could still cause shot across her blue eyes. ‘Then as a silly character created to sell breakfast cereal, for goodness’ sake!’

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he muttered when a film of tears washed across her eyes.

  ‘I’m not!’ she denied, but the denial was thick with tears too, and with a shaky sigh he captured her trembling mouth.

  It was a now familiar kiss—the one that caught fire at her lips and burned its way to every corner of her body, cleansing all the bitterness and hurt right out of her as it went. She sighed as she gave in to it, her soft lips parting, her tongue searching, finding, and she gave another pleasurable sigh as her hands went up around his neck and found that shank of hair that she loved to hold onto in moments like these.

  It was wonderful—like coming home through the storm and finding warmth and comfort waiting for her. He pressed her against him and she melted into the embrace, loving the feel of her breasts cushioning against the solid warmth of his chest, loving the feel of his body alive and pulsing against her own.

  He muttered something in Spanish as he drew away, his eyes burning like angry green flames as they delved into her own. ‘You understand that I love you whoever you are, whatever you are?’

  ‘I understand,’ she smiled softly.

  He nodded, always arrogant, no matter what other emotions were running rife through him. ‘Angelica DeSanquez,’ he muttered, then added tersely, ‘Remember how I said that! For Angelica Lacey no longer exists!’

  ‘Did I tell you I’m madly in love with you?’ she heard herself say, and actually cried out in alarm as he took her mouth again in a volcanic eruption of emotion that threatened to consume them both.

  ‘You unman me,’ he muttered hoarsely as his dark head dipped lower so that he could taste her silken throat. ‘You always do. But then,’ he added ruefully, ‘I think you enjoy doing it.’

  ‘You don’t feel unmanned to me,’ she remarked provocatively, nudging her hips against his swollen body.

  His sigh was oddly shaken. ‘Let go of my hair,’ he ordered. ‘You’re hurting.’

&nbs
p; ‘No.’ Her grip only tightened as her mouth went in search of his ear to taste it. ‘I like it,’ she whispered. ‘It’s sexy.’

  With a husky growl he bent and scooped her up into his arms.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she enquired innocently.

  César sent her a glaring glance. ‘Guess,’ he mocked as he strode with grim intention into the coolness of the house.

  Annie let go of the hair so she could trail a tender fingertip down his taut cheek. ‘I love you, César,’ she told him again. ‘Thank you for loving me too.’

  ‘Oh, hell,’ he gritted as his firm stride faltered. ‘If you don’t stop saying things like that I’ll take you right here on the stairs!’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, her blue eyes alight with pure female mischief, hear white teeth pressing into the sensual fullness of her bottom lip. ‘I just wanted to say it, that’s all.’

  ‘Santa María!’ he rasped out explosively as he entered the bedroom and toppled them both onto the bed. ‘I have never known a woman affect me as badly as you do!’ he muttered complainingly.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Keep it that way. Or I’ll make like Delilah and cut off your sexy hair.’

  ‘No need to worry about it,’ he said grimly as he began dragging clothes off both of them. ‘I don’t even exist when I am not with you.’

  ‘You’re with me now,’ she murmured consolingly.

  ‘No, I am not,’ he denied, then came over her and entered her. ‘Now I am with you,’ he grunted in rough satisfaction.

  ‘If this isn’t real,’ she groaned as she flexed to take him in further, ‘I don’t ever want to wake up.’

  ‘It’s real,’ he assured her. ‘Feel it.’ He gave a thrust of his tight hips. ‘Real.’

  ‘I belong to you, don’t I?’

  ‘Of course. What kind of statement do you think I am making here?’

  Tears filled her eyes, turning summer into midnight. ‘I’ve never belonged to anyone before,’ she whispered confidingly.

  The real Annie Lacey, he saw, with a pain that cut deep into his breast. Like a child, she looked helplessly, vulnerably exposed. His big chest moved on a wave of fierce emotion.

  ‘You belong,’ he avowed. ‘Mine.’ It was hot. It was gruff and it was possessive. ‘Now take hold of my hair,’ he instructed tensely.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, momentarily thrown by the command.

  ‘Because it’s sexy! All right?’

  She smiled, and suddenly she was no longer Annie the vulnerable child, but Annie the sensual woman, exalting in her own power. Her fingers fixed around his hair then pulled fiercely, smothering his groan of pleasurable pain as she brought his hot mouth down onto her own.

  A moment later and the ribbon fell away, allowing black silk to enclose them as they lost themselves in each other.

  Yes, I belong. This is real, was Annie’s last coherent thought. This is wonderfully, exquisitely real.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA TODAY bestselling author

  Jennie Lucas’ next book,

  THE HEIR THE PRINCE SECURES

  An exquisite encounter with a Sicilian leaves Tess alone, penniless and pregnant. Until Stefano returns, discovers his unknown heir, and reveals he’s royalty! Now to protect his tiny daughter, he’ll make Tess his Cinderella bride!

  Keep reading to get a glimpse of

  THE HEIR THE PRINCE SECURES

  CHAPTER ONE

  LOVE MEANT EVERYTHING to Tess Foster.

  NOT JUST LOVE. Romance. Pink roses. Castles and hearts.

  As a lonely teenager living in the attic of her aunt and uncle’s Brooklyn bakery, Tess tried to keep her romantic dreams secret. In a modern world of easy hookups and one-night stands, it was embarrassing, even shameful, to be an idealistic virgin waiting for true love. As other girls giggled over their first fumbling sexual experiences in the back seats of cars, Tess kept quiet and hoped no one would notice that she spent her own Saturday nights with dusty books in the library, dreaming of handsome princes.

  She’d known, even then, that when she finally gave herself to a man, it would only be to someone she truly loved. She’d wear white on her wedding day and lose her virginity on their honeymoon. She’d settle for nothing less than the fairy tale.

  Then, at twenty-four, she met Stefano.

  One moment, she’d been working as a waitress at a glamorous cocktail party hosted by a Spanish media mogul. Carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes through a crowd of movie stars and tycoons, Tess had been lost in thought, worrying whether she’d be able to afford another semester of design school.

  Then a handsome stranger’s dark, smoldering gaze had pierced her heart, making her lose her breath.

  That had been it. That one look from him had almost brought her to her knees.

  Because no one had ever looked at her like that. It was as if Tess, the hopeless, invisible wallflower, had suddenly become the most desirable, fascinating woman in all the world.

  And the man who was looking at her…

  Dark and sexy, he’d stood arrogantly apart, his perfectly cut tuxedo a mere veneer of civilization over his powerful, muscular body. His dark eyes had burned through her as he came toward her, moving with an almost feline grace.

  “Buonasera,” he’d said huskily.

  Tess had turned the silver tray toward him so fast the flutes nearly knocked over. Her voice had squeaked. “Champagne?”

  “No.” With a sensual smile, he’d glanced at the martini already in his hand. “I don’t want champagne.”

  “Something else, then?”

  His voice was husky, with the barest trace of an accent. “I want your name.”

  And that had been the start of the most spectacular night of Tess’s life. When she’d finished her shift at the party, he’d whisked her off in his chauffeured town car to an elegant, romantic dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in New York. Afterward, he’d suggested they go dancing. When she’d said she didn’t have a dress, he’d stopped at a designer boutique and bought her one that sparkled and swayed against her skin.

  She’d tried to resist, but she couldn’t. Not when he’d looked at her like that.

  Tess had danced in his arms for hours before he’d kissed her, leaving her intoxicated, breathless. He’d invited her to his suite at the luxurious Leighton Hotel. Looking into his dark, hungry eyes, she’d known only one answer.

  “Yes,” she’d whispered.

  In just one night, he’d ruthlessly taken her virginity. And more than that: he’d dazzled her lonely, romantic heart into loving him.

  But the next morning, waking up alone in the cold, gray dawn, she realized that she’d never even learned his full name.

  A few weeks later, she’d found out she was pregnant. Her uncle had been furious, her aunt disappointed in her.

  For the last fourteen months, even as Tess’s two best friends, Hallie Hatfield and Lola Price, had rolled their eyes, she’d stubbornly insisted that Stefano would someday return to claim her and their baby. After all, even if she didn’t know his last name, he knew hers. Stefano could find her anytime he wanted.

  If he hadn’t come yet, there had to be a good reason. Maybe he had amnesia, or his plane had crashed on a desert island. Those things happened, didn’t they? Tess imagined every reason she could think of, except for the obvious one. Her friends thought she was nuts.

  But Tess had to believe Stefano would return. Because, otherwise, she’d surrendered all her dreams for nothing. She’d given up her chance for a career, for marriage, for one love that would last her whole life—all for a one-night stand that had left her pregnant, abandoned and alone.

  If Stefano didn’t come back, it would mean the world was a cold and unforgiving place, and all the fairy tales her mother had read her as a child were wrong. Tess didn’t want to live in a world like that. So she’d done her best to believe.

  Suddenly, tonight, she couldn’t.

  Not for one more s
econd.

  Tess’s shoulders drooped as she wearily pushed her five-month-old baby’s stroller out of the Campania Hotel New York. It was ten o’clock on a warm, humid night in early September, but the night was just getting started. The streets were crowded with people leaving restaurants and streaming out of Broadway theaters, their faces animated and bright as they passed beneath the sparkling lights of the hotel’s porte cochere.

  Tess felt empty and sad. She’d just watched her friend Hallie sing at her husband’s luxury hotel. After Hallie’s amazing performance, Cristiano had publicly declared his love for his wife.

  She was glad for Hallie, truly she was. Her friend deserved every happiness, especially after what she’d gone through. Normally, Tess would have told herself that seeing a couple so deeply in love proved that it might still happen for her, too.

  But not tonight.

  She’d been up since four that morning, working at her uncle’s bakery while also caring for her baby. She felt sweaty and exhausted. Tendrils of her long red hair were plastered to her neck. Even Tess’s jaunty handmade outfit, a vintage-style shirt and midi pencil skirt with mixing patterns, was wrinkled. She looked down at her adorable sleeping baby, her plump cheeks and dark hair, and a hard lump rose to her throat.

  For over a year, she’d ignored her uncle’s criticism, her aunt’s disappointed sighs and her friends’ teasing. She’d told herself Stefano would come back to her. But after seeing Hallie and Cristiano together, so happy together in their own little world, Tess had realized she was fooling herself.

  Give it up. A memory came of Lola’s tart voice. He’s never coming back, Tess.

  Tess stopped. As streams of people passed by her stroller on both sides of the sidewalk, she savagely wiped tears off her cheeks. She’d planned to take the subway back to Brooklyn with her baby rather than ask Hallie for a ride and risk crying in front of her. Her friends always teased her about being too cheerful and optimistic. She couldn’t let them know how she really felt inside.

  But that was wrong. Hallie was her friend, and Tess had left without so much as a farewell. Taking a deep breath, she tried to smooth her face into a smile. She’d go back inside now and congratulate Hallie. And if she asked why Tess was crying—