The delicious crush of his mouth on hers, and the glorious sweep of that clever tongue.
Her arms were already around his neck, but now she used them to pull him closer, pressing her body tighter up against his, the feel of his hard length beneath her doing nothing to ease that heavy throb between her legs. And there was no way she could silence those giveaway sounds that were coming from her throat, of longing and of greed.
But, for his part, Lukas didn’t appear any more controlled. His low growl of approval when she’d rocked over him had slid through her like honey. Warming her and spreading inside her. She tried it again, and this time he wrenched his mouth away from her.
‘Be very careful,’ he began, his voice so hoarse with desire that it made her breasts ache. ‘I suggest you don’t waken what you aren’t prepared to deal with.’
And despite the fact that she had no real idea what she was doing, having never slept with any man before, Oti dropped her head to graze her teeth gently against the column of his neck.
‘I’m more than prepared to deal with anything I awaken.’
He didn’t hesitate. Dropping his head to reclaim her mouth, kissing her as thoroughly as if he were branding her, Lukas moved his attention to her jaw. Soft, butterfly-like kisses that had her murmuring softly, followed by a trail leading down her elegant neck and to her collarbone.
Oti couldn’t help it. She became pliable and soft in his arms, moulding herself to him, just like she had in the cathedral, except this time, without an audience, she allowed her hands to roam freely over that sculpted chest, intent on exploring every inch of his incredible body and learning every ridge and every dip.
But it was getting harder and harder to concentrate when Lukas was tracing whorls on her skin like that as he moved. Until, at last, he reached the deep V neckline of her top. His mouth, his tongue, traced their way over her skin, the top of her chest, and dipped beneath the fabric.
And all she could think was how much more she wanted. How badly she ached for him. She tried to tell him what she wanted—needed—but then, seeming to read her body like a glorious book, Lukas hooked his fingers under her top and lifted it over her head with an impressive economy of movement.
‘You’ve practised that,’ she tried to joke, something prodding her that she ought to be more wary about his sheer skill and efficiency.
But as she watched him fingering the delicate electric blue lace of her bra, something approaching marvel clouding his features, it was hard to even breathe, let alone talk.
‘Stunning,’ he growled.
And then he dispensed with that too, leaving her naked from the waist up, and feeling more feminine and wanton than she thought she’d ever felt before.
His eyes were almost black with the same desire that echoed within her. In all the places that no one had ever touched. Then they locked with hers as he cupped one of her breasts in his palm and she could only look on, transfixed, as he tested it, gloried in it and tasted it.
She had no idea what the sound was that came out of her mouth. Something primitive. Her body seemed to arch involuntarily, as if offering herself up to him all the more.
He feasted on her for a lifetime, maybe two, before switching sides to repeat the entire process. As if he had all the time in the world. Nowhere else to ever be. Nothing else to ever do.
He treated her as if she were infinitely precious, and even though a voice in her head tried to remind her that it was all fake, she didn’t care.
And then, with deliberate care and his eyes still holding hers, he rubbed one calloused thumb pad over her taut, tender nipple and a low sigh escaped her as her eyes drifted closed. She wasn’t prepared for the wallop of sensation when his mouth suddenly closed over it, drawing it into his mouth, sucking it deeper and letting his teeth slide over it, then soothing it with his cool, wicked tongue.
It was entirely possible, and embarrassing, that she was going to come apart just at that, and Oti couldn’t bring herself to care. It was too good.
Too right.
Never, in all her wildest dreams, had she thought this was how she and Lukas would end up.
The convenient reality of their situation splashed into her head like a douse of cold water.
Lukas lifted his head up instantly. ‘What is it?’
She’d almost forgotten when she’d started this...or agreed to it? Oti couldn’t quite remember how it had begun; Lukas had her so twisted inside out with pleasure.
But the fact was that she’d called her father as soon as she’d left Edward, asking for her share of the money he’d extorted from Lukas.
He’d laughed callously at her before hanging up. Reneging on his promise, just as she’d always feared he would.
Begging Lukas for the money for Edward’s surgery was now her only chance. Getting caught up in his kisses and forgetting the endgame certainly wasn’t part of her plan.
‘I have to ask you...’ She faltered.
It was crazy how much she wanted to swallow the words down, stuff them away and simply enjoy this one night with Lukas. To let him show her what she’d been saving herself for all these years.
But Edward and his needs were supposed to be the entire reason she had gone through with this charade. With everything that her brother had put up with these past few years, was she really selfish enough to put a few hours of carnal lust ahead of what might save Edward’s life?
Struggling to a more upright position, acutely aware that she was naked from the waist up, Oti kept her arms around Lukas’s neck, as if that could somehow afford her a little dignity.
What if she told him the truth? Maybe she could appeal to his sense of decency. He certainly had some—more than she’d initially given him credit for, and certainly more than her father had ever had.
But what if he used it as leverage against her, just as her own father had done? Could she really trust a man she barely knew, just because he made her body come alive in a way that she hadn’t known it was capable of doing?
‘What is it, Octavia?’ Lukas demanded, and his concern only added to her guilt.
‘I need to ask you a favour,’ she began, flicking out her tongue in a fruitless effort to moisten her suddenly dry lips.
Beneath her, Lukas had grown still, tense, his hooded eyes disguising his reaction from her. But she forced herself to carry on.
‘Like you said, consummation wasn’t part of the deal you made with my father.’
‘The deal?’ Lukas echoed, and she knew she didn’t imagine the mounting fury in his tone.
Still, she pressed on. For Edward.
‘Yes, the deal. You got my brother’s company, my father got money and he got to wash his hands of me. But now it’s my turn.’
‘Your turn?’
There was no doubting his expression of disgust. Unlinking her hands from around him, he thrust her away and onto the couch, hardly able to get away from her any faster.
‘I want to come out of this with something too.’
‘Is that what this was all about?’ he spat out. ‘Money?’
‘No,’ she cried instinctively, before realising her mistake. ‘Yes, but...for a good reason.’
Misery racked her.
‘Save it, Octavia.’ His voice was harsh, and it seemed to claw at her from the inside out. ‘You really are your father’s daughter now. Save the excuses, however. I don’t want to hear them. How much?’
‘Lukas...please...’
‘How much?’ he repeated, and she didn’t dare argue again.
She named a sum that she knew would cover the cost of the operation, not a penny more, and couldn’t stop herself from lamenting the fact that if her father had shared the pot he’d extorted from Lukas she wouldn’t have to be asking for this now.
‘You will have your money...’
‘Lukas, please know that...’
‘The money will be there,’ he bit out. ‘You don’t need to whore yourself out for it.’
And then, before she could say anything else—even if she’d had a clue what to say—he had stalked across the room and into his own suite, the unmistakable sound of the key turning in the lock making it clear that he was rejecting her.
She could hardly blame him. But it didn’t stop her from throwing herself onto the huge marshmallow pillows of her bed and sobbing herself to sleep.
Yet what choice did she have?
The day could hardly have gone much worse. And it was all her own doing.
CHAPTER SIX
SINKING BACK INTO the creamy soft seats of the limousine, Oti fought the urge to close her eyes.
She hadn’t slept a wink for the last couple of days, tossing and turning each night, her thoughts returning over and over to Lukas. And that kiss.
The way her whole body ignited each time she replayed it in her head. No one had ever come close to making her feel like Lukas did. Making her ache like he did.
After what had happened to her that ghastly night almost fifteen years ago, she’d begun to think that no one ever would.
In fact, she’d begun to conclude that there had to be something wrong with her. Why had she insisted on carrying it with her, letting it overshadow any hint of a relationship with any man since?
Ultimately, she’d been rescued. Other women went through far, far worse ordeals. So why had she carried it with her all these years? Why didn’t she feel the same drive that other young women her age felt?
And then Lukas had stepped into her life and she’d felt something shift inside her, even from their first meeting. However much she’d tried to pretend otherwise, there had been something about Lukas that had simply lifted all those heavy, suffocating layers away.
She’d thought their kiss in the cathedral had been unbalancing enough, but the other night had just upended her world completely.
Oti couldn’t stop replaying it. It was on a loop that she couldn’t—didn’t want to—break. And that made the man so much more dangerous to her. Just like she’d always thought he was.
God, how she’d wanted him to keep kissing her. To touch her, the way he’d deliciously threatened to do. That rich, dark voice of his had played with her senses, turning them in on themselves so that she could barely think straight.
So that all she’d been able to think of was Lukas, and the way he’d been tasting her. Teasing her. She’d felt so wanton—desired and desirable. More than that, he’d made her feel as if there was nothing lacking about her at all. As if she’d just been waiting for this—for him—all this time. It was surely one of Lukas’s greatest skills, and she’d been helpless to resist him.
If he hadn’t stopped, then Oti was in no doubt that she would have given herself up to him right there and then, on that sofa in her bedroom suite.
Giving her virginity to a man who barely liked her, let alone loved her.
She might ask herself what she’d been thinking, except the truth of it was that she hadn’t been thinking. She hadn’t been capable of thinking at all.
Edward was right. She’d been playing with fire the moment she’d agreed to her father’s preposterous plan to marry her off to a man like Lukas Woods. Whilst she might have told herself that she was sacrificing herself for a greater purpose—to get money for Edward’s surgery—the truth was far less noble.
She had wanted Lukas from that very first meeting, in a terrifyingly exciting, utterly carnal way. Her body had recognised it, even if her mind had refused to accept it.
But it was getting harder and harder to lie to herself. Not least because the money was there—from Lukas—in her account, and still...that raw, urgent longing hadn’t gone away.
It was all so confusing.
The fact that she hadn’t even had to sleep with the man told her so much more about what kind of a person he was. And it didn’t match the ruthlessness of his reputation.
She should have everything she wanted. And yet she didn’t. Because what a part of her really seemed to want—physically if not emotionally, of course; she wasn’t that crazy—was Lukas. And she couldn’t shake that sense of regret and blame over what had happened between them the other night.
Nor the rawness that scraped somewhere unfathomable, deep inside her chest.
Perhaps talking to Edward again today would clear that up. Being able to finally assure him that the procedure was a possibility—that, as long as the tests proved him to be a viable candidate, money wouldn’t be a stumbling block—should erase any lingering doubts about Lukas from her mind.
As well as any final remnants of guilt.
‘Commandeering my driver again?’
For the third time in almost as many days, Oti found herself startled by her fake husband. She watched, horrified, as he slid into the back seat across from her. She tried—and failed—to stop her eyes from soaking up the sight of his long, mouth-wateringly muscular legs, which his tailored suit did nothing to diminish. Quite the contrary; they stretched out in front of him so very languidly, practically inviting her gaze to roam upward.
Oti blew out a breath of frustration. Even here, in the back seat of a car, he wore power like a bespoke suit. And, like everything else, it fitted him immaculately.
‘What are you doing, Lukas?’ she managed, her voice scratchier than she would have liked. But that couldn’t be helped.
‘Heading into the office. Some of us work for a living.’
She bit her lip to stop herself from answering. There was no need to tell him about her job—it didn’t matter to her at all what he thought.
If only she could believe that.
‘You aren’t driving yourself? Only you have done the last few days.’
‘You haven’t used my driver the last few days,’ he pointed out.
‘So you’re only here because I am?’ She could hardly matter that much to him, surely?
‘After last time, can you blame me?’
Shame and anger bled into each other and Oti opened her mouth to answer, only for the driver to alert them to an accident further up the road.
‘The report says that traffic is gridlocked, sir,’ George, the driver, continued. ‘We could go the longer way around—the roads that way are quieter.’
‘Do that,’ Lukas confirmed as Oti’s heart lurched.
A longer car ride, with the tension already palpable? Just what she didn’t need.
The car turned and they drove in silence for a while and Oti forced herself to stare out of the window. Anything not to have to engage with him.
More because she feared confusion and—shamefully—lust would be written all over her features.
It was only as they pulled up at a set of red lights that Oti found her gaze pulled to the commotion going on in a car parked awkwardly in the kerb, though it took her a few moments to work out exactly what she was seeing.
‘Stop the car!’ she yelled, just as George began to pull away again.
It vaguely registered that it took Lukas repeating the instruction for the driver to obey.
‘What’s going on?’ His voice was low, almost guarded.
‘Unlock the doors, George. Now. I think the woman in that car is in labour, and she’s on her own.’
The door clicked and she practically stumbled out as she hurried back to the other car, only realising that Lukas was right alongside her as she reached the passenger side.
‘George is calling an ambulance,’ he told her quickly. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to interfere. Leave it to the professionals when they arrive.’
Oti didn’t reply; she just picked up her pace. Tapping on the car window, she then stepped back to give the grunting woman space.
‘I’m Oti, I’m a doctor. I’m here to help.’
With another g
runt and a twisted expression, the woman managed to unlock the car door, and Oti hauled it open.
‘My husband...’ the woman managed between groans. ‘He forgot his mobile in the panic to leave the house. He...he ran to the petrol station down the road with our son to...make the call.’
‘Okay, so is this your second baby?’ Oti asked. ‘Can you tell me your name?’
‘Debi... This is my...second. Yes... I was...in labour for ten hours with him... This one can’t come...yet.’
‘Yeah, it happens that way sometimes.’ Oti offered a gentle laugh. ‘Hours for the first, but the second is quick. Nothing to worry about. I can tell your contractions aren’t far apart at all. Can we get you into the back seat so there’s a little more room for me to examine you?’
She felt Lukas’s hand at her elbow, drawing her away.
‘You need to wait for the professionals,’ he ground out in a low voice.
‘I’m a doctor,’ she reminded him irritably, beginning to wrench her arm away.
His grip tightened.
‘You might have bought your degree,’ he hissed, ‘but that doesn’t make you a practising doctor. You can’t play superhero with this woman’s baby.’
Oti had had enough. Never mind her own sense of privacy or keeping her secrets. This woman needed her, and she wasn’t about to let Lukas stop her from doing the one thing she did best.
‘For pity’s sake, Lukas, I am a professional,’ she hissed up at him. ‘I haven’t been on the beach, or whatever my father has claimed. I’ve been working in South Sudan for the past four years, looking after women and children, including delivering babies. On an average day, our small unit can help deliver sixty babies in a twenty-four-hour period. I know what I’m doing.’
Later, she would savour that stunned expression which passed over his face. The way he stopped looking at her with quite such a mixture of pity and disdain. The moment he began to see her in a different light.
Later.
But right now she had a job to do.
‘Get the first aid kit from your limo—your driver will know where it is if you don’t. I need gloves, and hand sanitizer if there is any.’
Tempted by Her Convenient Husband Page 7