Wanting What She Can't Have

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Only time would tell if he could feel the same way about her. She hoped against hope that he could, because if not, walking away from Raoul, walking away from Ruby, would be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her entire life.

  She’d done something similar once before—distanced herself from him before she could let her feelings grow, knowing them to be futile when he loved Bree and was loved so passionately in return. But things were different now, so very painfully different, and it was going to be a difficult road ahead.

  * * *

  It had been a week and still he couldn’t get her out of his mind. What on earth had possessed him to visit her room that night? Worse, what had made him take her back to his and then, in the morning, tell her in no uncertain terms to keep taking her pill? He’d had no right to any of that, a fact he’d reminded himself of constantly these past seven days as he’d forced himself to keep his distance. It hadn’t stopped him wanting her, though, or remembering in excruciatingly vivid detail their night—and morning—together.

  From his vantage point out in the garden he watched her sleeping in the window seat of the family room. She had a sketch pad on her lap and an array of colored pens spilled across the cushion she lay on. Her hair lay in a swathe across one cheek. Hair he knew was silky soft and carried a scent he found unique to her.

  In sleep she looked peaceful, as if she no longer bore the weight of the world on her capable shoulders. His fingers tingled as he remembered how her skin had felt beneath them. How smooth and warm. She was so alive, so giving. Try as he might, he could not help but be pulled into her magnetic sphere.

  She’d become a part of his every day in ways he had never imagined. Ways he never wanted or expected to imagine. But more, he now found himself wanting her to become a part of his nights, as well. Just one night with her had been nowhere near enough. He’d barely slept ever since for the memories of her in his arms, in his bed, crowding his thoughts. Replaying, time and again, the exquisite sensation of sliding into her body, feeling her welcoming heat, watching her shatter from the pleasure of his touch.

  There’d been no recriminations from her. Not even when he’d treated her so bluntly these past few days. Ill-tempered and filled with mounting frustration, his fuse had been short and he hadn’t been afraid to show it or to use it to push her away. She wasn’t a fool, she’d read the signals. As a result, he’d noticed that she and Ruby had spent a lot of time away from the house and, dammit, he’d missed them—both of them.

  As if Alexis sensed his observation of her, she stirred. A few of her pens slid off the cushion and onto the floor. They must have made some noise because she startled awake and moved to grab her pad from following in the same path. The sketch pad reminded him that she’d put her life on hold to come here.

  He’d never have asked her to do that—to simply walk away from her growing business to look after a child who would have been fine with a different nanny, and a man who was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Things had been rolling along just fine here before her arrival—at least that’s what he’d tried to convince himself. He knew, though, in all honesty, they hadn’t.

  What made someone do what she had done? he wondered. Simply shelve, at least for a little while, their own dreams and goals to help out someone else. Was it a lack of self-respect or belief? No, he knew she had self-respect, but she also had a big and giving heart. He’d seen it in the way she’d so quickly grown attached to Ruby.

  He continued to watch as Alexis stood up and stretched, the movement pulling her long sleeved T-shirt upward, exposing the soft skin of her belly. In answer, his flesh stirred, reminding him that he’d been trapped in this awkward state of semiarousal this past week. He wanted her, but he didn’t want the complicated hang-ups that came along with having her. And if he knew anything about Alexis Fabrini it was that she had a power of emotion stored up in that enticing body of hers. She deserved someone who could match her, physically and emotionally.

  He had no space left in his heart for emotion.

  He turned and pushed through the edges of the garden and strode out toward the winery. Somehow he had to find a release for all the pent-up energy having sex with Alexis had created. Somehow, he didn’t think finishing labeling the wine bottles he was ready to put down would be enough.

  Nine

  Several hours later he was surprised at the sense of satisfaction he felt while recording the number of bottles of Pinot Noir he’d spent the better part of the day labeling. This wine was his best yet. While he was probably only looking at four hundred cases in total, he was sure that they would be integral in helping to establish his Benoit Wines label. If he could continue to ensure the same quality, and better, year after year, his reputation would be made.

  The sound of the winery door creaking open surprised him and he looked up to see Alexis walking through the tasting room toward his small office. The late afternoon sun was weak, yet it still struggled through the windows as if determined to bathe her in shades of golden ocher. His body responded accordingly, again stirring to unwelcome life. His pulse beat just that bit faster, his gut clenched just that bit tighter.

  She was alone, a fact that immediately put him on the offensive—the easiest way, he’d found, to cope with this unnerving awareness of her each time she was within a few meters of him.

  “Where’s Ruby?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “She’s having a playdate with Jason over at Matt and Laura’s. I’ll pick her up in an hour.”

  “An hour?”

  Raoul raised an eyebrow, his mind filling with all manner of things he could enjoy with Alexis in the space of sixty minutes. Just as quickly, he tamped those visions back where they belonged.

  “Yes, the kids seem to get along in as much as they can socialize at this age. And, anyway, it’s good for her to get out of the house. I said I’ll do the same for Laura one day next week. I hope you don’t mind. I’m sorry, I probably should have discussed it with you first.”

  Alexis seemed determined to justify herself to him. Was that what he’d reduced her to? Someone who constantly felt they had to make apology for their actions? He knew Matt and Laura well, he trusted them implicitly.

  “If you think it’s best for Ruby, it’s fine. Did you want me for something?”

  “I wanted to see if you’re planning to have dinner with us tonight. If not, I’ll put yours in the warmer.”

  “The warmer is fine.”

  She sighed, and the sound acted like a torch to touch-paper.

  “What?” he demanded.

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “No, you sighed. There’s something bothering you. What is it?”

  “Well, if you must know, I’m sick of you avoiding me, avoiding us. Is it because we slept together or is it something else I’ve done?”

  He was about to refute her accusation but, in all honesty, he couldn’t.

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, that’s all,” he muttered.

  “Wrong idea? Oh, like romance and candles?” Alexis laughed. It was a brittle sound that plucked at something deep inside him—made him feel unexpectedly ashamed for putting that sarcasm in her tone. She was the kind of woman who deserved both romance and candles—and more.

  There was a cynical twist to her mouth as she continued. “Don’t worry, Raoul. I know where I stand. I don’t care so much for myself, but your withdrawal and your mood this week has been really bad for Ruby. Whether you like it or not, she’s your daughter. When are you going to accept your responsibilities toward her?”

  He bristled. “She’s fed, isn’t she? She’s clothed and sheltered. What else does she want?”

  “Love. Your love.”

  He got up from his chair and pushed a hand through his hair. “She doesn’t need me. She has you, she has Catherine. I make sure she has what she needs, it’s your job to provide it.”

  “It’s not enough, Raoul.”

  “It has to be. That’s all I
have to offer her.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Really? You think you know me better than I know myself?”

  “I think I know what you’re capable of, and this ice-man act isn’t you. It isn’t the real Raoul Benoit.”

  “Oh, and just who is?” he answered scathingly.

  She stepped forward until she was directly in front of him—so close he could feel the heat of her body. It was as if his own sought and craved it, as if deep down he longed for her warmth. He pushed the thought away. It would be a cold day in hell before he ever admitted to needing someone again. Alexis held his gaze as she lifted a hand and put it on his chest, over where his heart suddenly did a double beat at her touch.

  “He’s the man inside here. The one you won’t let out. I don’t know why you’ve felt the need to lock him away the way you have, but it’s time to let him out. Don’t you think he’s done enough penance now? Don’t you think you deserve to live your life?”

  He pushed her hand away but the imprint of it had already seared through his clothes and into his skin. She had that effect on him. She could get beneath the layers and slide deep inside.

  “Penance? You think that’s what I’m doing?”

  “Sure. What else would you call it? It’s as if you’re punishing yourself for something you had no control over. You didn’t kill Bree. You weren’t responsible for what happened to her.”

  He spun away from her, determined to make sure she wouldn’t see the way that the anguish her words had wrought reflected on his face. She was wrong. So very wrong.

  “Raoul?” she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  He shrugged her off. He didn’t want her touch, her comfort.

  “I was responsible,” he said in a dark low voice. “My expectations killed Bree. I failed her.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “If I hadn’t been so determined to have a family, to fill the rooms of that house up the hill with our kids, she’d still be here today.”

  “You can’t know that. Besides, that was her dream, too. In her letter she told me she was prepared to do anything, risk anything, to have a family with you. The aneurysm—”

  “She died, Alexis, and it’s all my fault!” he shouted, his words echoing around them.

  * * *

  Alexis looked at him in shock. He really truly blamed himself for Bree’s death.

  “It happened, Raoul. It wasn’t something you or she could control or quantify. Not even the doctors could say if or when the aneurysm could bleed out.”

  “I know, it was a time bomb. But you know what the kicker is? I didn’t even know it was there until it ruptured. She never told me about her condition or the risks to it from her pregnancy. She kept it a secret, hiding it away from me. If I’d have known, if I’d have had the slightest inkling that her health would be compromised by her pregnancy, I would have taken steps to make sure it never happened.”

  “But that would have been taking her choice to have a family away from her,” Alexis protested. “She wanted your child.”

  “I wanted her.”

  His voice was bleak, so sad and empty and filled with loss. Alexis didn’t know what to do. What he’d just told her explained so much—his withdrawal from society, his reluctance to have anything to do with Ruby. Which brought her full circle to why she’d come to talk to him today.

  “You can’t blame Ruby. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “I don’t,” he answered simply.

  “How on earth can you expect me to believe you when you can’t even stay in a room with her for more than five minutes, let alone spend any time alone with her?”

  Raoul rubbed a hand across his eyes and shook his head. “It’s not what you think. I don’t blame her. I just can’t let myself love her.”

  His words struck her like an arrow through her heart. “How can you say that?” she gasped, shocked to her core.

  “Because it’s true. I can’t love her, I won’t love her. What if I lose her, too?”

  “What if she lives to be a hundred years old?” Alexis countered.

  “You don’t understand, she was born prematurely, she was seriously ill for the first month of her life—”

  “And she’s overcome all that, she’s a fighter. She’s a strong, healthy growing girl and she needs her father—not some coward who’s prepared to pay everyone to take over his obligations!”

  Raoul stood up straighter at her accusation—anger flaring in his hazel eyes, making them seem more green than brown, standing out even more as his complexion paled. “You’re calling me a coward?”

  Alexis stood her ground. “If the cap fits.” She shrugged with feigned nonchalance. Right now she was worried she may have stepped over the mark. But it was too late to back down. Besides, she wasn’t about to break the momentum now that they were finally getting to the heart of his issues. “Let’s face it, you can’t even bring yourself to talk about what we shared last week, about our night together. Instead you’ve been snapping and snarling at me for days, when you haven’t been avoiding me altogether. What’s wrong, Raoul? Can’t you admit that what we did, what we had together, was good? Do you not believe you even deserve even that?”

  “No, I don’t!” he shouted. “It’s a betrayal.”

  “Of Bree? As hard as it is, as cruel as it is, she’s dead, Raoul. You’re living—although not as if you’re alive. She wouldn’t have wanted you to do this, to cut yourself away from everyone and everything that mattered to you both, especially the daughter you both wanted so badly.”

  “So what are you saying, that I should jump into bed with you at every opportunity, pretend I’m alive?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” she said quietly.

  He moved up to her, grabbing her upper arms in his strong hands. Even though he vibrated with anger, his hold was still gentle. She knew this was the real Raoul Benoit. This man with such passion in his eyes that even now, after her goading, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

  “And if I said to you that I want you now, what would you do?”

  Alexis calmly looked at her watch and then back at him. “I’d say you have about forty minutes. Is that enough?”

  “For now, maybe,” he growled.

  In the next breath he was kissing her and she thrilled to his touch. Their night together had only made her want more. His last words about taking her birth control had made her believe that he’d come to her again, but instead he’d been so aloof this week, so filled with latent anger. If releasing that anger was what it took to prize him out of his ice cave than that’s what she’d do. She’d make him so mad he made love to her every single day. Anything to bring him, the real him, back again.

  She shoved her hands under his sweater and scraped her nails across his belly. His skin reacted instantly, peppering with goose bumps. He backed her up until she felt the hard edge of his desk behind her thighs, and bent her backward onto its hard surface. Immediately, his hands were at the waistband of her jeans, tugging at the button and releasing the zipper. He yanked the denim down her legs and cupped her through her lace panties.

  The instant he touched her she was on fire. Wet with longing and burning up for what would come next. His palm bore down on her clitoris, the firm pressure bringing her nerve endings to life. She tried to open her legs wider but was restricted by her jeans pooled at her ankles. Somehow, she toed off her shoes and kicked the offending garment away, spreading herself now for his invasion.

  As he moved between her legs, she wasted no time unsnapping his jeans and pushing them down, her touch now hungry for the feel of him. She slid one hand under the waistband of his boxers, pushing the fabric away and freeing him, her fingers closing around the velvet coated steel of his erection. Already his tip was moist and he groaned against her as she firmed her grip on him, stroking him up and down, increasing and releasing her pressure as she did so.

  Raoul slid a finger inside the leg of her panties and groaned again as he encountered
her skin.

  “So wet, so ready,” he murmured before pulling her underwear down her legs and dropping them on the floor.

  Then, his hands were back. He cupped her again, this time inserting a finger, then slowly withdrawing it, his thumb working the swollen nub of nerve endings at her core, stoking the intensity of the fire that burned so bright inside her.

  With his other hand he pushed her sweatshirt up higher, exposing the plain cotton bra she’d worn today. For a second she wished she’d chosen something more beautiful, more enticing, but when he unsnapped the front clasp and lowered his mouth to her breast she went beyond caring.

  His teeth grazed first one nipple, then the other. Her skin was so sensitive to his ministrations she screamed softly, lost in the spirals of pleasure that radiated through her body.

  More, she wanted more. She guided the blunt head of his penis to her opening and let go when he took over control, sliding his length within her so slowly she thought she might lose her mind. His thumb never stopped circling her clitoris and she knew she didn’t have long before she’d come apart, but she wanted this to be about him, as well. About what they could share together.

  She clenched her inner muscles and felt him shudder against her. Her hands coasted up his abdomen, stroking his chest and skimming his nipples before tracing back down again to his hips.

  Raoul kissed a hot wet trail from her breasts to her throat, then along her jaw to her mouth, capturing her lips again with his caress. Subtly, he increased the pressure of his thumb and Alexis couldn’t hold back another second. She gave herself over to the ever-increasing waves of pleasure that consumed her, that thrilled her to heights she’d never felt before with another man.

  She clamped around him, again and again as her orgasm built in intensity until she lost awareness, was oblivious to the thrust of his hips and the ragged groan of completion that rent from his body as he climaxed inside her.

  It could only have been minutes later, but it felt much longer, when Raoul stirred and withdrew from her.