His apology made the deluge inevitable. She’d never cried so much in her entire life as she’d cried over the past week, and tonight was no exception. Lowering to a wingback chair, Peter pulled her onto his lap, and she buried her face in his shoulder.
With soothing sounds and motions, he comforted her. He’d shaved recently, she thought dimly, because his stubble didn’t catch in her hair, but he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head as he cradled her. Just as she’d imagined.
“I’m dreaming,” she said after a long while. “Please don’t let me wake up yet.”
“You’re not dreaming.” He tipped her face up and dried her lingering tears with his handkerchief. “I’m not going anywhere. Unless”—his gaze shifted away before meeting hers once more—“you don’t want me here?”
“Are you mad?” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe you’re real.” She laughed. “I thought you were the prince.”
He frowned. “Do you have a date with him?”
“What? God, no!” Bringing her fingers to his lips, she traced them. So soft, yet so firm. “He’s married and…” She met his eyes. “I think you’re enough of a handful.”
A relieved smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. As it faded, a surge of sexual heat arced, ensnaring Georgia’s attention as Peter lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and tentative, filled with all the forgiveness and apology she’d craved. She knew they had so much more to discuss, but she could only think of holding him. Touching him. She needed to know he was real and not the figment she’d conjured in her dreams so many times over the past week.
She moved in, tilting her head so he could deepen the kiss, and he brought his hand up to grip the base of her skull, massaging and manipulating until he had her positioned just so. Tongue delving, he swept away logic and replaced it with longing—a need for him so intense she knew they wouldn’t make it back to her house before they both demanded satisfaction.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“We should lock the door.” Georgia lifted her head on a gasp to deliver the observation.
Peter’s gaze darkened, and he nodded. “Go ahead.”
Somehow she managed to stand and cross the room on wobbly legs. Her fingers shook as she twisted the key in the lock and turned to lean against the door for support. Legs splayed, elbows propped on the chair arms and fingers steepled together, Peter regarded her from the shadows. Only the gleam of his dress shoes and the white of his hands gave him away as corporeal and not an invention of her desires.
“Come here.” He issued the command with a steady confidence that explained exactly why she’d mistaken him for a prince.
Smiling at her private thoughts, she complied. When she reached the chair, he held out his hand and pulled her forward so she stood between his knees. He looked up, regarding her with an intensity that stole her breath. Though he sat and she stood, every fiber of her being took notice of who really had control of the moment, and she’d never been so glad it wasn’t her.
Still…there was something she’d always wanted to do for him. She licked her lips and opened her mouth. Then closed it again, unsure.
His thumb brushed her wrist, heating the delicate skin. “What is it?”
“I want to…” She glanced away and shrugged, hoping her body language communicated more information than her words. When he looked confused, she forced herself to finish. “Taste you.”
He hissed in a breath, and her gaze flew back to his face. The pain-pleasure grimace etched into his features said he very much enjoyed the idea of having her pleasure him with her mouth.
A little tug at her fingers brought her lower until she knelt between his legs. He widened his thighs, giving her more room, and placed her hand on his knee. As she watched, he regarded her and unfastened his trousers.
EYES WIDE, LIPS parted, Georgia knelt before him with hunger written across her delicate features. Above the satin décolletage of her black-and-white ball gown, her breasts gleamed, begging for his touch. But she’d said she wanted to give something to him, and who was he to deny his lady?
His countess, he mentally corrected.
Pulling his cock from his pants, he sighed at the combination of cooler air and the erotic brush of his own fingertips. Waiting for his cue, Georgia worshipped him with her eyes. He’d never felt so alive or so loved. Though the act was carnal, he saw the intention behind her request, and it had very little to do with empty lust.
Peter brushed his thumb along his slit and gathered up the jeweled drop balanced at the tip before cupping Georgia’s chin and pressing his thumb to her lips. She gave a kiss to the pad, then licked away the moisture and sucked him in. The pressure of her tongue and gentle scrape of her teeth were nearly his undoing, and she hadn’t even wrapped her lips around his cock yet.
“Georgia.” He groaned her name. “Now, please.”
Her quiet murmur of assent vibrated along his thumb to his hand. He swore the sensation went straight up his arm and flowed from there down to his groin. Releasing him with an audible pop, she lifted her head and smiled up at him. When she lowered her mouth again, it was to take him into her moist heat.
His head fell back. He couldn’t have held it up if he’d tried. Muscles that should have been languid went taut. Nothing was under his control in that moment. He’d given it all up to her.
Soft licks alternating with deep-throated bobs made him gasp her name. He tried to keep his hips motionless, but at some point they’d taken on a will of their own. Hand at the back of her head, he guided her gently through each surge and swell. Pressure built, and his pace became less controlled. Breathing deep, he pulled back and grasped her arm with gentle insistence. She looked up, letting him slip from her mouth. Cool air hit heated saliva, and he shuddered.
“I want you,” he managed to rasp. “Take off your panties.”
Pink rushed to her cheeks, whether from arousal or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. Perhaps from both. He’d never tire of her combination of genuine innocence and intelligent confidence, he realized, as she stood and gathered up her full skirt to straddle him.
He gave her a quizzical frown.
“I’m not wearing any panties,” she whispered and lowered her pussy onto his naked cock.
The first brush of her silken wetness compelled his hips upward and his hands to her waist. She guided him inside her channel, lids fluttering closed on her moan. He watched her as she lowered inch by inch. When his cock stretched her, she bit her lip. He held her securely until she’d adjusted to him enough to be able to move again.
Fully seated, their bodies joined as completely as they could be, she finally opened her eyes and looked down at him. No words necessary, her gaze told him everything she wanted to say. Everything he needed to hear. Slowly, they began to move together, he into her, and she against him. Their sighs and groans filled the air, cushioning him in a world where only Georgia existed.
For the first time, he made love to her. Let her feel every inch of his desire, every ounce of his love. By the time he shouted his release, the frenzied pump of his hips compelling her to shudder and cry out her own pleasure, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he couldn’t live without the woman he held in his arms.
A long time later, they sat on the floor together. Back leaned against the chair edge, Georgia in the circle of his arms, he stroked her hair and limbs. Her face and breasts. Anything he could get his hands on, he touched with languid appreciation.
“What made you change your mind?” she asked without looking up at him.
He heard the hesitance in her voice and knew she dreaded to ask but had to know the answer. He gave a rueful laugh. “Niall. And Sid.”
She shifted, peeking up at him, her glance quizzical. “Niall?”
“Yes.” Brushing his knuckles along her bare arm, he thought of his brother’s insights. “Turns out he’s pretty smart after all. And so is your friend.”
“Hm.” Georgia settled against him once more. “I could’ve t
old you that.”
Peter curled his hand and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “He said I used you. Worse than…”
They were both silent for a moment.
“Worse than I used you?” she ventured.
God, she was brave.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I deserved what you did. Though I didn’t know it at the time. After everything with your father…I should have understood when I found out. It was such a shock. Yet, if I’d been paying attention, I suppose the clues had been there all along. I can’t believe I didn’t figure out you and Gigi were the same person.” His laugh was rueful. “Some valuable lessons came out of it. For me, I mean.”
“No.” Georgia pushed away and shifted to face him. “What I did was inexcusable, and I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what I put you through. I don’t blame you for hating me for not telling you.”
There was only one thing he didn’t understand, and though he loathed hurting her, he had to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
In the momentary silence, he noticed the sound of the orchestra and briefly wondered how they’d leave the room in their disheveled state without causing a scandal.
“I know it’s going to sound odd.” She looked down at her clasped hands before meeting his gaze. “But by the time I thought I should…by the time it mattered and I knew you weren’t the person I painted you to be? I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lose you.”
He nodded, understanding completely. “I would’ve done the same thing.”
Wasn’t it strange how different his actions seemed now than they had the morning when he’d first seen that column? Now he’d have curled his lip in disgust and wondered at the bastard who could only form such shallow relationships that he had to hire the women he dated.
“No.” Auburn curls bobbed as she shook her head, emphatic. “You wouldn’t have.”
He cocked his head, pretending to consider. “No. You’re right.”
She didn’t so much as flinch.
“I would have ordered you to forgive me and when you asked me for what, I would’ve told you that you didn’t need to know.”
Expelling a laugh, she grinned up at him, and he took the opportunity to kiss her breathless.
“I don’t understand how you can forgive me.” The light left her eyes as she made the confession. “Sid must’ve worked wonders.”
“He and I talked quite a bit, yes.” Peter caressed Georgia’s bottom lip with his thumb, relishing the plump softness even as he tried to find words to communicate everything that had happened over the past week. “He told me about your father. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
Georgia glanced away. “It’s all right. We kept everything low-key. And…I’m okay.” She gave him a halfhearted smile. “Really.”
Setting aside the topic for now, knowing she’d likely need to talk about the man’s death in little bites, he said, “Sid told me you came to the charity ball that night with no other desire than to dance with me. That I snubbed you.”
“Oh dear Lord.” Covering her eyes with one hand, she lowered her head. “I can’t believe he told you that.”
Pulling her hand away, he told her something he’d never admitted to anyone. “I have this thing. About social events. They make me so uptight I get blinders on and don’t see anyone or anything I don’t have to. I’m sorry.”
“You?” Her eyes widened. “The Debonair Billionaire?”
He pulled a sheepish frown. “’Fraid so. But I hope I made up for it tonight.”
Her brilliant smile told him he had. In spades.
“One more difficult question and then I swear I’m done,” he said.
“Go ahead.” Sucking her lower lip in between her teeth, she nodded for him to proceed.
“Sid said you started the column as revenge against your father.” He searched her face. This part was important. If they were going to move forward, they couldn’t have any secrets. Not anymore. “Is it true?”
Lacing her fingers in her lap, she twisted them as she seemed to consider her reply. Finally, she pierced him with her steady stare. “I don’t think I knew it at the time, but yes. I did.”
“Do you think I’m like your father?” He needed to know. “Can you respect me after everything I did?”
She blew out a breath, and tears sprang to her eyes. “You know what I wish?”
Peter caressed her cheek, wanting to spare her the pain of this conversation, but knowing he couldn’t. “What, sweetheart?”
“I wish I knew my father as well as I know you. I wish…maybe I could’ve been there for him so he didn’t feel like he had to do what he did. I think…he was lonely. With the way he was brought up, he didn’t know how to find true intimacy, and then when he and my mother grew apart, he sought comfort where he knew how.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, making tiny glistening rivers. He rubbed his thumbs over them, stemming the flow, and gently made her keep her gaze on him.
“Anything I did? Anything your father did? That was our choice. Not yours.” He kissed her, lingering long enough that he tasted the salt of her tears. “I’m just lucky enough I saw what being a jackass could cost me. The sad thing here? Is that your father never got to know you.”
“I love you.” The words were muffled in his lapel, but he heard them just the same. Holding her, he let her cry and swore to himself he’d never, ever be the one to cause her pain again.
“I’m stepping down as chairman,” he said when she lifted her head minutes later with a final sniff. “And I reopened the paper. I’m sorry for everything. Just…everything.”
She opened her mouth, and he pressed his fingers to her lips.
“I want to spend time building that boat and getting to know my family. You’ve allowed me to see how important people are. What small things mean to people. Not money, but time. My father has always wanted to build a schooner, and I’d like to heal our relationship.” Allowing all the love he felt for Georgia to shine in his eyes, he continued, “And even more important, I want time for a proper honeymoon with my wife.”
“Your…wife?” Georgia leaned back, ostensibly to get a better look at his face and body language.
Suddenly he wasn’t quite as sure of himself as he had been when he’d made the suggestion.
“Unless she wants a longer courtship?” he hedged.
Long lashes fluttered low before lifting. With all the emotion he felt mirrored back at him, she asked, “How do you feel about being an earl?”
He started back in shock. It was her turn to surprise him.
“I hadn’t considered…” He blew out a breath and felt a grin spread over his face. “You know, together we could do some pretty spectacular things. Maybe even open an international center for underprivileged and handicapped youth. And there’s the paper to whip into shape if you’d still like to take that task on.”
Relief poured from her, and she laced her fingers with his.
“I love you,” he said, examining their joined hands. “Marry me?”
Georgia’s smile lit up the room.
“You forgot the ring,” she teased.
He raised both brows at her, and her lips parted to form a little O as he lifted a velvet box from his pocket. Opening the lid, he took out his great-grandmother’s modest diamond and held it up to the light. It shone with all the brilliance of every gem he’d ever seen, and possibly more.
“I really do love you,” she whispered. “So much it hurts.”
His heart gave a funny flip as he took in her statement and realized though he’d heard those words a million times, he’d never really understood them before today. I love you used to be a fantasy—something plastic or frilly like the topper on a wedding cake, at best. At worst? A jumble of words someone might use to wrestle control away from him. After all his careful maneuvering and avoidance, it turned out that love really existed. It was a deep well of give-and-take, protector and protected, cherisher and cherished.
Heart thundering, Peter recognized Sid’s shock of hair.
The man held up a bottle of champagne and shouted, “Time to celebrate?”
Georgia gasped. “He and Carl knew about this? About the proposal?”
“I made them promise not to tell.” Peter came to Sid and Carl’s defense, knowing men had to stick together.
“Hmph.” Standing, Georgia pretended indifference, but Peter saw the way she admired the ring on her finger.
Hand at the small of her back, he guided her to the door. She reached for the knob, then paused to look up at him.
“This could be seen as pretty risqué, you know. Us leaving the room together.” Her gaze swept him, heating as it lingered at all the right spots. “Looking like this. Maskless.”
Pulling Georgia into his arms, he kissed her soundly and threw the door open. Framed there, he made love to his future wife’s mouth and composed his own scandalous headlines, until he realized the bells of midnight were chiming and everyone else was too busy kissing to notice.
“So much for a scandal,” he said, lifting his head.
“Come here,” Georgia said, pulling him close again. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Catching a glimpse of Sid through the window, his camera raised, Peter kissed her. And for once he couldn’t wait to see the news.
Loose Id Titles by Tibby Armstrong
Public Relations
* * * *
The HOLLYWOOD Series
No Apologies
Acting Out
Full Disclosure
Outtakes
Tibby Armstrong
Tibby Armstrong has a lust for books and a love of travel. On the terrestrial plane, she dreams of springtime in a Paris flat, and summer at a cottage in Oxford. She travels more extensively, through worlds both strange and familiar, via romance, mystery, urban fantasy, and biography.
Public Relations Page 28