She didn’t know who looked more stunned, Lucas or Jennifer! And she didn’t wait around to find out, going to her bedroom without a backward glance, sure that she had left mayhem behind her.
Once in the privacy of her bedroom the defiance left her, her shoulders drooping dejectedly. All she had succeeded in doing just now had been to anger Lucas unnecessarily, and after they had once again reached a very uneasy friendship too. But she would be lying if she denied liking the feel of Lucas’s firm flesh beneath her lips, and she could still taste the elusiveness of his spicy aftershave. She wondered how he had felt about the kiss. No doubt she would find out tomorrow, quite volubly if she knew him at all.
She stood under the shower for over ten minutes, just letting the hot spray wash over her, trying not to think of Lucas and Jennifer together in the lounge. If they still were in the lounge. The thought of them perhaps being across the hall in Lucas’s bedroom made her groan with her own frustrated longings. She wanted Lucas herself, now realised that her own irrational behaviour this evening had been caused by jealousy of the other woman.
She donned the peach nightgown tonight, a transparent négligé in the same silky material thrown casually over a chair, the peach colour adding warmth to her skin.
It was as she was sitting in front of the dressing-table brushing her hair that she became aware of the raised voices, Lucas’s sternly forceful, Jennifer’s becoming increasingly shrill. They were still in the lounge, and they were arguing. Chelsea couldn’t resist the temptation to open her door slightly to see what they were arguing about, and once she realised she listened unashamedly to their conversation.
‘—so damned prudish,’ Jennifer was accusing hotly.
‘I am not being in the least prudish,’ Lucas returned icily. ‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.’
‘But you’ve stayed at my home dozens of times,’ Jennifer protested.
‘I’m well aware of that,’ he answered calmly.
‘Then why can’t I stay here with you for a change?’ she demanded waspishly.
So Lucas had been telling the truth when he denied having his women stay here. Obviously Jennifer felt it was time that situation changed!
‘I have a guest—’
‘Ah, now we’re getting to the real reason for your reluctance,’ Jennifer pounced. ‘But Chelsea is a big girl now, and I’m sure she must be aware that we’re—intimate friends.’
‘I’ve never denied that fact,’ Lucas grated. ‘But neither do I intend flaunting the relationship by having you stay here tonight.’
Stunned silence greeted this statement. ‘Are you ashamed of our affair, Lucas?’ Jennifer demanded softly.
‘Of course not—’
‘Or is it just that you don’t want Chelsea to know about it?’
‘She already knows we’re lovers—’
‘I meant tonight. You’ve hardly touched me tonight,’ she said slowly. ‘And you cancelled our last two dates. Do you still want me, Lucas?’
‘You’re being ridiculous now,’ he rasped. ‘Of course I still want you, I just think you could have chosen a better night to want to stay here.’
‘Because she’s here!’
‘Because of Chelsea’s presence in my home, yes,’ he confirmed hardly.
‘So you want me to leave?’
He sighed. ‘You’re being unreasonable, Jennifer, becoming hysterical as you did the other night.’
‘How am I supposed to act, when I know that as soon as I’ve left you will in all probability go to that young girl’s bedroom and finish what she started!’
Chelsea gasped at the accusation, and she could feel Lucas’s anger emanating from here. The kiss had been a provocation, but it certainly hadn’t been an invitation—had it?
‘What did you say?’ Lucas’s voice was dangerously soft.
‘Oh, don’t act the innocent with me, Lucas,’ Jennifer spat the words at him. ‘The two of you have been looking at each other all evening—’
‘That’s a damned lie!’
‘Is it?’ she scorned. ‘I don’t think so. But I do think that perhaps that newspaper story wasn’t so far wrong after all.’
‘Would it surprise you to learn that I don’t give a damn what you think!’ Lucas rasped. ‘I’m at last beginning to see what it is about you that makes Peter uneasy,’ he continued mercilessly. ‘Professionally I’ve always thought you very competent, but tonight you’ve shown how you can over-react—’
‘Over-react?’ Jennifer echoed shrilly. ‘I suppose I imagined interrupting something between you and Chelsea in the kitchen tonight? That I imagined that kiss?’
‘There was nothing to interrupt earlier between Chelsea and me,’ Lucas’s voice was steely. ‘And that kiss was nothing. I’ve been like an uncle to her since she was a child.’
‘But she’s a woman now!’
‘It makes no difference to our relationship,’ he told her arrogantly.
‘If you believe that then you’re a fool,’ Jennifer scorned.
‘I think it’s time you left,’ Lucas bit out. ‘In fact, I think it’s past time.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she snapped. ‘I’m going. And you’re wrong about your precious partner Peter, I don’t make him uneasy for that reason at all. He just wishes it were his bed I shared!’
‘Peter is engaged to be married,’ Lucas told her harshly.
‘So?’
‘So maybe it should have been his bed you shared if what you say is true,’ Lucas said contemptuously. ‘Because sharing mine certainly won’t advance your career.’
‘Why you—’
‘Yes?’ he prompted dangerously.
‘I’m leaving!’ Jennifer told him indignantly.
‘I wish you would,’ he snapped.
‘And don’t think that I’m fooled for one minute by this argument you’ve provoked between us; I know damn well you’re finishing things because of that little bitch!’
‘Would you just leave, Jennifer.’
‘With pleasure!’ The apartment door could be heard slamming seconds later.
Chelsea let her breath out raggedly. God, what had she done now? Had that one little provoking kiss on Lucas’s cheek caused all that? Well, if he was going to be furiously angry with her she may as well get it over with now than lay awake worrying about it. Besides, he hadn’t come to bed yet, she would have heard him if he had.
He was unaware of her presence as she watched him from the lounge doorway, his back to her as he poured himself a drink, the black dinner jacket removed, the white silk shirt taut across his back.
His expression was resigned when he turned and saw her. ‘Want one?’ He held up his drink.
‘No, thanks,’ she shook her head, not moving, looking delicately ethereal in the shimmering peach gown and matching négligé.
He sat down on the sofa, stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘I suppose you heard?’
A blush coloured her cheeks as she chewed on her bottom lip. ‘I—’
‘It’s all right, Chelsea,’ he sighed, sipping his drink. ‘We were talking loudly enough for the whole building to hear!’
She moved gracefully across the room. ‘I just wanted to apologise.’
His eyes narrowed on her in the dimmed lighting of the room. ‘For what?’
‘For causing that argument between you and Jennifer, I hope you’ll be able to patch things up.’
‘I don’t,’ he stated bluntly, his expression grim. ‘It’s over between us.’
Her eyes widened at how cold he sounded. ‘But I thought you were going to marry her?’
‘Good God, no,’ he said disgustedly.
‘So after months together it’s over between you, just like that?’ she said disbelievingly.
‘No, not just like that,’ he rasped. ‘But you heard Jennifer.’
‘The whole thing was my fault,’ she sighed.
Lucas shook his head. ‘You can’t be responsible for Jennifer’s vivid imagi
nation.’
She swallowed hard, moistening suddenly dry lips. ‘She wasn’t imagining anything. At least, not as far as I’m concerned she wasn’t; I would like to finish what I started.’ Her expression was anxious as she watched his reaction to her admission. She was laying her budding emotions towards him at his feet; she hoped he didn’t trample all over them.
He had become very still, his head slowly raised to look at her. ‘Chelsea—’
He was going to be patronising, she could tell. ‘I’m sorry,’ she dismissed jerkily. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you,’ her smile was brightly meaningless. ‘I’ll go back to my bedroom now.’
‘Chelsea!’ Lucas had quickly crossed the room to grasp her arm and swing her round to face him.
‘Yes?’ her voice was breathless as he seemed stunned into silence. ‘Lucas, what is it?’ Her dark blue eyes avidly searched the taut tension of his face.
‘There can’t be anything between us,’ he told her softly, almost absently.
‘Why not?’
He moved his shoulders feelingly. ‘Because whatever you’re feeling right now is just a reaction to the recent shock you received, it isn’t real.’
‘It feels real,’ she assured him huskily.
‘It’s just a reaction…’
‘Is it?’
‘Dear God, I don’t know any more,’ he groaned raggedly, his hands painful on her arms as he held her in front of him. ‘Chelsea, this is wrong.’
‘No.’ She shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
‘Kiss me again,’ he ordered roughly. ‘Here this time!’ He dragged one of her hands up to his mouth, running her fingertips over his lips, his tongue moving to caress the sensitive tips.
She stood on tiptoe to replace her fingertips with her mouth, her lips parted to meet his, no gentleness attached to the kiss, as if they had both wanted it for too long. Lucas’s mouth moved savagely against hers, as if he were driven into doing something that was beyond his control, his arms about her waist moulding her body to his.
Then he wrenched away from her, as if fighting an emotion that was a stranger to him. ‘Chelsea—’
‘Lucas!’ she groaned her own arousal, not wanting him to fight anything, finding the passion and desire in his arms that she had always wanted, always needed. ‘Please, Lucas,’ she encouraged heatedly, her emotions all in her candid blue eyes as she looked up at him beseechingly.
Something akin to pain flickered in his eyes before his mouth descended to hers once more, gentler this time, sipping from her mouth, his hands moving strongly across her body, one hand lingering beneath the gentle swell of her breast as his mouth wreaked destruction with the sensitive cord in her throat, moving moistly across her shoulder, pushing the silky négligé down her arms to fall to the ground.
‘I have to see all of you again,’ he rasped as he slid the ribbon shoulder straps of her nightgown down her arms. ‘See if I didn’t just dream you after all.’
Chelsea stood proudly before him in the golden glow of the room as Lucas’s lips followed the progress of the gown down her body, the proud thrust of her breasts, the nipples wetly erect after Lucas’s administrations, the soft mound of her womanhood, the gentle curve of her thighs. No man had ever touched her so intimately, so completely, her body on fire with need. She clutched his shoulders with tense hands as desire peaked, quivering with the need for fulfilment.
And then his mouth was returning to hers, her head bent back as she more than met the heat of that kiss, gasping as one roughened thumb-tip moved across the tip of her breasts, feeling the heat of desire right down to her thighs.
‘Lucas, make love to me!’ she begged as her hands moved to the fastening of his dark trousers, feeling the throbbing heat of his own arousal against the taut material.
He sucked in a gasping breath as she touched him, suddenly thrusting her away from him, picking up her nightgown to thrust it into her resisting hands. ‘This has to stop now, damn it!’ His eyes glittered angrily.
Chelsea was stunned, had believed him to be as aroused as she was seconds earlier. ‘Why?’ she demanded to know in a strangulated voice.
‘You know why!’ His hands shook slightly as he helped her put on the nightgown. ‘It should never have started!’
‘But I want you!’ Her emotions went beyond pride.
Lucas’s mouth tightened even more at the admission. ‘Go to your bedroom.’
‘What?’ She couldn’t believe he had spoken to her in that authoritarian voice after what they had just shared!
‘I said go to your room!’ he ordered through clenched teeth.
Chelsea went.
CHAPTER SIX
HER pillow was very damp from all the tears she had cried after throwing herself down on the length of the bed. Lucas had dismissed her as if she were a child, and after making such beautiful love to her! She cried as much with the humiliation of that as with his rejection of her.
She had been so wrong about his coldness, Lucas could become lost in passion too, could lose all control, a deep fire in the dark warmth of his eyes. She knew that no matter how he rejected her now she could never go back to thinking of him as coldly remote, knew that beneath the façade was a man who could be controlled by passion, a man who was the way that he was simply because he wanted to hide that fierce and yet gentle passion that ruled him.
‘Chelsea…?’
She turned sharply at the sound of his voice, quickly wiping at her tear-stained cheeks, sitting up to look at him challengingly. ‘Yes?’ she prompted tightly.
There was a weariness to his mouth and eyes. ‘You forgot this.’ He put her négligé down on the bedroom chair, moving across the room to sit on the side of her bed, gently smoothing back her hair. ‘I’m sorry,’ he sighed.
She swallowed hard, feeling her own instantaneous desire return at his merest touch. ‘For starting it or stopping it?’ she queried huskily.
He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Just sorry it happened.’
‘Why?’
Heat flared in his eyes before it was quickly dampened. ‘The reasons are too numerous to mention,’ he shook his head.
‘Try,’ she encouraged throatily, determined to make him understand that nothing stood between them but his own stubbornness not to let his emotions rule his body—and hers.
‘Your father sent you here for protection—’
‘He sent me here because he knew I’d be safe with you,’ she corrected.
‘It’s the same thing,’ Lucas rasped.
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘Because I am safe with you.’
‘I almost made love to you!’
‘It was my decision,’ she insisted calmly. ‘You didn’t force me into it. Jace didn’t want you to protect me from emotion, just from the attention of the media.’
‘Your emotions are all confused at the moment, you don’t really know what you want,’ Lucas told her grimly.
‘I want you,’ she said softly.
His jaw became rigid with disapproval. ‘I’m too damned old for you.’
‘You’re perfect.’ She touched the hardness of one cheek with loving fingers.
‘You’re too young for me!’
She shrugged. ‘I’ll get older.’
‘Not soon enough for me!’ Lucas stood up forcefully, moving a safe distance away from her seduction. ‘No matter how much older you get there will always be fifteen years standing between us.’
Chelsea watched him with puzzled eyes. ‘So when I’m thirty you’ll be forty-five,’ she dismissed. ‘What difference does that make?’
‘There’s eleven more years to go before you reach thirty!’ he grated derisively.
‘Think of the fun we could have together in those years,’ she encouraged throatily.
‘You’re infatuated—’
‘I’m not,’ she calmly shook her head. ‘This is real for me, Lucas, no matter what you think. You could send me away until I’m older, but I’d still want you then, so
why waste all that time?’
He drew in a ragged breath at her logic. ‘You’ve only been here for two days—’
‘So?’
‘So it isn’t long enough to be sure of anything, certainly not that you want to make love with someone!’
‘I’m sure,’ she told him softly.
‘Just what is it you think you’re so sure of?’ he rasped.
She hesitated only momentarily. ‘I love you.’ She met his gaze steadily, sure beyond belief at that moment, knowing that she had fallen in love with him almost from the moment she had seen him again.
‘No!’
‘Yes,’ she insisted firmly.
‘Your mother’s death—’
‘Has nothing to do with the way I feel about you,’ she shook her head. ‘I loved my mother, but I’m not looking for a substitute parent figure. I do love you, Lucas.’
‘You have no conception of the emotion,’ he dismissed with deliberate callousness.
‘I know I wanted to physically push Jennifer away from you tonight,’ her eyes flashed with remembered anger. ‘That I felt ill every time she touched you, that the thought of you making love to her, or any other woman but me, makes me feel physically sick!’
‘Chelsea…!’
‘It’s true, Lucas.’
His mouth twisted. ‘Has no one ever told you to keep such emotions to yourself, that unless encouraged you could embarrass someone with your intense honesty?’
‘You aren’t embarrassed, Lucas,’ she said with confidence. ‘Running scared, maybe, but—’
‘Running scared!’ he echoed thunderously. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I?’ There was a half smile of satisfaction on her lips, his anger a much more honest emotion than the coldness with which he had tried to dismiss what had happened between them earlier. ‘You’re the one that’s frightened of emotion, not me,’ she shook her head.
‘I am not frightened of emotion.’ Suddenly he was the one to be on the defensive.
‘Then why have you remained single all these years; I’m sure there must have been hundreds of women all too willing to marry you.’
‘I don’t intend marrying just for the sake of it,’ he rasped. ‘I want a wife who loves me, who wants children with me—’ he broke off, seeming stunned that he had made such an admission, let alone actually meant it.
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