“I don’t think you have to go that far,” Mitch said dryly.
“Then what do you think he’d have me do?” Lauren demanded, her temper inching ever higher. First Mitch had shut her out. Then her father had scolded her for not behaving amorously enough. A first, if there ever was one! And now Mitch was taking her father’s side in criticizing her! If all that wasn’t grounds for fury, she didn’t know what was.
Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know precisely what your father wants, but I imagine he wants you to look as if you want to be here with me instead of edging away from me like I have the plague.”
Lauren was now keeping her physical and emotional distance from Mitch again for her own protection. Because she knew how weak-willed she was when it came to Mitch Deveraux. A touch, an intimate look, a kiss, all were things that would lead them straight back into bed. She knew it, and she was betting, so did Mitch.
“Your father probably thinks,” Mitch continued, “that you’re afraid to smile at me or dance with me or in any other small way allow yourself to enjoy being with me because you’re afraid if you do that, something just might happen.”
“Please. You’re not that irresistible,” Lauren fibbed, reminding herself that their relationship, such as it was, was a business deal, nothing more, nothing less. She’d been foolish to think—hope—the two of them were in love. Because people in love didn’t shut each other out the way Mitch had shut her out earlier. That, she knew for certain.
“You’re telling me there’s no lingering combustion between us?” Mitch said warily, suddenly looking just as unhappy—and full of temper—as she felt.
“Not a drop,” Lauren said determinedly as she clasped Mitch’s hand in hers. “And to make sure you and my father both understand that, I’ll prove it.”
LAUREN DANCED with Mitch for the rest of the evening. She touched his hand, his face, looked deep into his eyes and smiled. And she did it all and still kept her heart under lock and key. By the time her father’s birthday party drew to an end, she was pretty proud of herself for showing up both Mitch and her father. They’d said that she couldn’t resist Mitch if she allowed herself to be physically close to him—well, she had!
Mitch, however, wasn’t nearly as happy. The minute the clock struck midnight, he let go of her, stepped back. “It’s official,” he said crisply. “Our date’s over.” Then he turned on his heel and walked away.
Lauren stared after him, watching as he left the ballroom and headed out into the lobby. Unsure whether he was coming back or not—surely he wouldn’t just leave her here without a car or a ride home—Lauren made a pass by the punch bowl, said good-night to her father, who was still surrounded by a few well-wishers, including Ron Ingalls, then wandered out into the lobby herself. As soon as she crossed the marble floor, a bellman tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss Heyward?”
“Yes.”
“This is for you.” The bellman slipped an envelope bearing the hotel insignia into her hand.
“Thank you,” Lauren said. Heart pounding, she made her way across the lobby, found a deserted corner, as far away from the ballroom as possible, and sat down on one of the plump garnet-red sofas. She opened the envelope and found two things inside. An electronic key and a room number. There was no name. No note. Nothing.
She didn’t need it.
She knew darn well whom it was from.
LAUREN THOUGHT ABOUT not going up there. About leaving Mitch Deveraux high and dry. Two things stopped her. One, she didn’t want her father to see her get a cab home—that would lead to questions she did not want to answer, and probably another lecture on not living up to her end of the bargain as well. And two, she didn’t want to forfeit her chance to tell Mitch exactly what she thought of him, and what he had just done. She headed for the elevators and made her way to the fifth floor. She marched down the hall to the room, put the electronic key card into the door, waited for the light to turn green and then opened the door.
Mitch Deveraux was reclining on the king-size bed. He had taken off his tuxedo jacket and tie, and loosened the first few buttons on his shirt. “I didn’t think it would take you long to get up here,” he said.
Trying not to notice how darkly handsome and dangerous he looked, Lauren marched even closer. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“No, lady, you have a lot of nerve.” Mitch pushed away from the bed in one smooth motion and squared off with her. “Where did you get off coming on to me that way!”
Lauren swallowed hard around the sudden dryness in her throat and tried to look as if she had zero interest in the confrontation that had been brewing between them for hours now. So what if she had touched his face, his hand, looked deep into his eyes and smiled? He knew she’d been putting on a romantic show just to prove her point—that she could resist Mitch, even when they were physically and or intimately close. “You’re the one who dared me to do it!” she accused in a low silken tone.
And in her estimation, she had passed the test with flying colors.
“Okay, then.” Mitch gave her lips a long, thorough once-over that swiftly had her knees weakening and her body tingling, then dropped his gaze to her breasts, hips and thighs for a leisurely survey before returning ever so slowly and deliberately to her face. “I dare you to make love with me here and now.”
Lauren ignored his baiting as her heart began to race. “That’s not a dare I want to take,” she informed him coolly.
One corner of Mitch’s mouth lifted in a taunting smile. “So you’re afraid,” he presumed wickedly.
She drew herself up to her full height, propped her hands on her hips and glared at him willfully. “I am not!”
Mitch inclined his head slightly to one side. “You weren’t afraid the other night,” he recalled.
Refusing to encourage him in the slightest, Lauren frowned. “I was a fool the other night.”
“You were a passionate, daring woman the other night.”
Lauren swallowed, wishing she had something a little more substantial and a lot less sexy than the glittering silk-chiffon ball gown and evening sandals. “We went over why what happened then should not happen again,” she explained with a great deal more patience than she felt.
Mitch nodded, not buying it for a minute. “So what was that downstairs in the ballroom just now?” he asked mildly.
Lauren folded her arms in front of her and gave him a feisty smile. “We were dancing.”
“That’s one word for it,” Mitch agreed.
Lauren knew she shouldn’t take the bait—she couldn’t help it. “What’s another?”
“Teasing.”
Lauren’s jaw dropped at the sexual implication in his low tone.
“And to make things worse, you were only coming on to me like that to prove a point,” Mitch continued.
Lauren’s cheeks flushed self-consciously. “Well, it looks like I demonstrated it aptly!”
“The only thing you showed me down there,” Mitch countered indolently, “was that you can be every bit as much of a control freak as your father.”
Lauren drew a shocked breath. “That’s not true,” she protested heatedly. She and her father were nothing alike!
“Then prove it to me,” Mitch said. “And really let loose tonight.”
Lauren had known it was risky coming up to his hotel room, when their emotions were running so high. She had counted on her fury keeping them apart. Instead, it was driving her right into his arms.
“Mitch,” she murmured helplessly as he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her.
“Kiss me, Lauren,” Mitch whispered, looking impossibly handsome and incredibly determined in the soft light.
Lauren’s heart pounded all the harder as she delivered the obligatory protest. “I—”
Mitch’s eyes darkened ardently. “You know you want me.” He rubbed his thumb sensually across her lips. “As much as I want you.”
Lauren splayed her arms across his chest, wedging as much di
stance as she could between them. But already her lips were parting, her body melting into his. “We’re headed down a dangerous road,” she whispered, her breath coming as raggedly and erratically as his.
“I don’t care,” Mitch whispered back just as passionately. “I’ve got to have you.”
And, as it turned out, Lauren had to have Mitch, too. The minute he took her lips in a fierce burning kiss, she knew there was no turning back, no turning away. Like it or not, want it or not, the two of them were meant to be together. Tonight. And maybe for all time….
Desire thundering through him in waves, Mitch flattened the hard length of his body against the softness of Lauren’s. He swept the insides of her mouth, languidly at first, then with growing passion, until she was lost in the touch, taste and feel of him. Her soft, delicate hands stroked his chest and shoulder with slow, seductive strokes. Rising on tiptoe, she met him, kiss for reckless kiss. Reveling in the soft surrender of her body pressed against the rock-hard demand of his, Mitch backed Lauren toward the bed. Unhooking and unzipping, he kissed her long and hard and deep. Kissed her until she moaned, deep and low, in the back of her throat, and his own blood began to boil.
Whisking off her lovely gown, he knelt before her, positioning himself between her thighs. Her taupe lace bustier gripped her waist, ribs and breasts. The top of her transparent lace garter belt covered her delectably from her hip-bone to just below her navel. Beneath that were several inches of the silky-smooth flatness of her abdomen, and the equally sexy flare of her hips. Thong panties covered a nest of enticing golden-brown curls. Garters stretched down her bare, lusciously silky thighs, and sheer taupe stockings covered her very sexy legs before disappearing into her stiletto-heeled evening sandals.
Mitch removed her shoes one at a time, kissing the insides of her knees as he did so.
Lauren shuddered and placed the heels of her hands on either side of her on the bed.
“I meant what I said about really letting go tonight,” Mitch murmured, looking up at her.
“I think I’m ready to try,” Lauren whispered back, scooting to the edge of the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck. And that was all the encouragement Mitch needed. If this wasn’t heaven, he didn’t know what was, he thought as his tongue teased her lips apart and then plunged into her mouth again and again, tantalizing and compelling, while one of his hands caressed the most feminine part of her and his other flattened against her spine before moving deftly to her breasts. Dispensing with the bustier, he caressed her breasts with his palms, rubbing his thumbs over the tender crests. “You are so beautiful, Lauren,” he murmured, touching his lips to the sweetness of her skin, even as he divested her of the rest of her impossibly sexy lingerie. “So hot, so wet.” He kissed her everywhere, tantalizing and exploring, until she moaned and surged against him helplessly. And then she was taking him by the arm, pulling him up onto the bed beside her. Dark brown eyes luminous and filled with desire, she undressed him, too. Stroking and exploring, caressing and kissing every inch she uncovered. Until he was naked, too. Shuddering, unable to hold back the feelings he had for her any longer.
Shifting, so she was beneath him on the bed, he covered her with his body. Lauren wrapped her arms and legs around him and lifted her hips to his. He penetrated her slowly, cupping her bottom with both hands, lifting her and filling her with the hot, hard length of him. And then they were one. Kissing, sweetly and lingeringly, deeply and passionately. Joining forces. Moving toward a single goal, climbing ever higher.
Mitch felt Lauren shudder as she arched and plunged, the insides of her thighs rubbing the outsides of his. Until at last he relinquished control and gave himself to the passion, to her, and they were plummeting together, blissfully over the edge.
Chapter Fourteen
Lauren woke with the most wonderful sense of well-being. She was burrowed deep in the covers, a man’s strong, warm arms wrapped around her, his body pressed close to hers. Remembering how and why she’d gotten there, Lauren struggled to wake up all the way and found herself being turned gently from her side to her back.
Looking as happy and satisfied as she felt, Mitch smoothed the tangle of hair from her face and kissed her temple. “Morning,” he said softly. And she had only to look into his eyes to recall all the erotic, sensual things they had done. And wanted to do again.
Blushing shyly, Lauren looked up at Mitch.
“I’m never going to forget last night,” he told her, his gaze lovingly roving her face. And then, to Lauren’s delight, Mitch made it a morning neither of them was ever going to forget.
Several hours later, showered, wrapped in white hotel robes and sharing a room-service breakfast, they faced a dilemma of a different sort. “We need to talk about this,” he said quietly.
Sensing the seriousness of his mood, Lauren curled even deeper into her chair. “I think this is one of those cases where actions speak louder than words,” she said.
Mitch studied her over the rim of his coffee cup. “I’d like to believe that, if I thought you weren’t going to run away from me—from what we’ve found—again.”
Lauren reminded herself they only had one date left before Mitch and she both got what she wanted from her father. As much as she would like to forget how and why her relationship with Mitch had started, she couldn’t do so. And that being the case, she knew there was only one path to take. She drew a breath, looked Mitch straight in the eye and said solemnly, “I admit I’d like some breathing space—”
Mitch frowned. “So you can pretend we didn’t start a love affair?”
Lauren’s heart pounded as she studied his reaction gravely. “Is that what we’ve done?”
“It sure feels like it to me.”
Lauren drew a shaky breath. She toyed with the belt on her robe. “This isn’t like me, Mitch.” She forced herself to meet his eyes and be totally honest about this much. “I’m not the kind of woman who can enjoy a strictly physical affair.”
Mitch’s blue eyes darkened and his lips compressed. “This isn’t strictly physical.”
And yet, she thought, her worry deepening, Mitch hadn’t once mentioned love. And passion without emotional commitment wasn’t enough—not for the long run. And what she wanted, Lauren admitted to herself silently, was someone who was in it for the long haul, just as she was. Not someone who was just in it for what he could get from her father. Knowing he was the kind of man who needed a concrete reason for beginning and ending anything, Lauren fished around for an excuse. “You’re not even my type,” she said finally.
“What is your type?” He indulged her.
The exact opposite of men like you and my father, Lauren thought wryly. Out loud she said, “The sensitive, non-business-oriented man.”
Mitch sat back in his chair. He picked up the last strip of bacon and broke it in half. “Has that worked out for you?”
“No.” Lauren accepted the portion he gave her and munched on it quietly.
“Why not?” Mitch asked as he poured them both some more coffee from the carafe.
Lauren stirred cream into her coffee. “You really want to hear this?” She didn’t want to tell it; it was embarrassing.
Mitch flexed his shoulders. “How else am I going to understand where you’re coming from—and I do want to understand you, Lauren.”
Lauren looked in his ocean-blue eyes and saw that was true.
“Your father told me you’ve been engaged twice,” Mitch prodded.
Lauren sighed. She should have figured she would have no secrets. “That’s right. And both relationships ended up being unmitigated disasters.” To the point she had sworn off all men for a while.
Mitch’s eyes softened sympathetically. “What happened?” he asked gently.
Lauren traced the rim of her cup with her finger. “My first fiancé was an artist I met in college. He was terribly gifted but he couldn’t hold down a regular job to save his life. As a consequence he was always short on cash, and he was always borrowing m
oney from me.”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “I bet that went over well with your father.”
“You have no idea,” Lauren said just as dryly. “Anyway, it ended when I realized I was really just a way to pay his rent.”
Mitch made a commiserating face. “Ouch.”
“No kidding.” Lauren sighed, remembering how much that had hurt, and how she had sworn it would never happen again.
“What about fiancé number two?” Mitch asked curiously as he polished off the rest of his mushroom and cheese omelette. “What was he like?”
Finding her appetite had evaporated, Lauren toyed with the fruit on her plate. “He was a college history professor. We met at an exhibit at the Charleston Museum. He was very much a stand-on-his-own-two-feet sort of guy, and very protective of me.”
Mitch looked intrigued. “Sounds good so far.”
“It was,” Lauren admitted. “Until I realized that he wanted me to stay at home while he worked, wore the pants in the family and made all the decisions.”
“He just came right out and said that?” Mitch looked amazed.
“I wish,” Lauren lamented candidly. “It would have saved me a lot of grief. But, no, he was much more subtle than that.”
“Then how did you find out?” Mitch asked.
Lauren grimaced. “We were looking for someplace to live after we got married. And he sent me over to look at this beachfront cottage that had just gone on the market and wasn’t too far from the university where he taught. I was supposed to tell him if I liked it.”
“And…?”
“It was wonderful. Adorable. And, I found out accidentally when the Realtor showing it to me spilled the beans, it had already been spoken for, because my fiancé had already put a contract on it while pretending to want my input on whether to buy the property or not. Of course, I knew I couldn’t be with someone who could go behind my back and subtly manipulate me into doing what he wanted me to do, so I ended it. My father keeps saying the third time around is bound to be the charm for me. But I don’t know.” Lauren shook her head sadly as she got up and restlessly roamed the room. “My gut feeling keeps telling me it’s just not that easy.”
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