by Jennie Lucas
Letty gasped at the beauty of the ivy-covered pergola decorated with fairy lights near a lit lap pool gleaming bright blue in the warm September night.
Above them, distant stars sparkled like diamonds across a dark velvety sky. Past the glass walls of the terrace, the night skyline of Manhattan glittered.
She kept her distance from the edge, afraid to go too close. But Darius went right to it. He leaned against the short glass wall, totally unfazed and unafraid of plummeting seventy floors to his death. He looked out at the city.
Letty crept closer, her heart pounding. “This terrace is amazing.”
“All the flowers remind me of home,” he said simply. She wondered if he meant Greece or Fairholme, but didn’t have the nerve to ask. She slowly turned her head, marveling at the lavish beauty of a rooftop garden that treated all of Manhattan as nothing but a backdrop.
“You’re king of the mountain now,” she said softly. “Looking down on a valley of skyscrapers.”
Turning to her, he came forward. Then he abruptly fell to one knee in front of her astonished eyes.
Reaching into his tuxedo jacket pocket, he pulled out a small black velvet box.
“Rule it with me, Letty,” he said quietly. “As my wife.”
Shivering, she put her hand on her heart. “I already said...”
“You said yes when you thought I’d back out. This is a real proposal. I expect a real answer.” He held up the black velvet box. “Letty Spencer, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
He opened the lid. Inside the black velvet box was an enormous pear-shaped diamond set in platinum. It was the hugest, most outrageous ring she’d ever seen.
But that wasn’t what made her lose her breath.
It was Darius’s face. His dark, yearning eyes. As he looked at her in the moonlight, she saw the man who’d just bruised her with the intensity of his kisses. Who’d just defied all of Manhattan and paid five billion dollars for her. The man whose child she carried.
In his eyes, she saw the shadow of the younger man she’d once loved, strong and kind, with such a good heart. The one who’d loved her so fervently. They were the same.
Letty’s heart skipped a beat.
It’s an illusion, she told herself desperately. He’s not the same. But as she reached out and brushed her fingers against the diamond engagement ring, it sparkled like the stars. Like the lights of this powerful city.
Like the smolder in Darius’s dark eyes.
“It would destroy us,” she said shakily, but what she really meant was it would destroy me.
Darius slowly rose in front of her, until his tall, powerful body towered over hers. Waves of blue light from the pool reflected against him as the warm wind moved across the water. Putting his hand on her cheek, he lowered his head.
“Say yes,” he whispered. “Say you’ll be mine.”
His kiss was tender at first. She felt the rough warmth of his lips, the gentle hold of his arms.
Then his grip tightened. His embrace became hungry, filled with need. Spirals of heat twisted through her body, and she gripped his shoulders. Until he pulled away.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“Yes,” she choked out.
A flash of triumph crossed his starkly handsome face. “You will?”
She nodded, tears in her eyes.
“There will be no going back,” he warned.
“I know.” She tried to ignore the thrill that crept into her heart. Excitement? Terror?
Right or wrong, disaster or not, there was nothing to be done. What he’d said was true. She’d always been his. In many ways, this decision had been made for her long ago.
He slid the diamond ring over the third finger of her left hand. It fit perfectly. She looked down at it, sparkling in the moonlight. “How did you know my ring size?”
“It’s the same ring.”
She frowned. “What?”
“It’s the same I bought for you ten years ago.” His voice was low. “I had it set with a different stone.”
The thought that he’d kept their original ring all these years made her heart ache. Whatever he might say, didn’t that mean he might still care for her, at least a little?
Could love, once lost, ever be regained?
Looking at him with tears in her eyes, she breathed, “Darius...”
“You’re mine now, Letty,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. “You belong to me. Forever.”
Then he kissed her lips as if those, too, were his possession.
Sparks of pleasure went up and down Letty’s body, coiling low and deep inside her, and she felt his hands running down her bare arms, her sides, cupping her breasts over the pink dress.
She fell back against the ivy-covered stone wall. Above them, fairy lights swayed gently in the warm wind, the skyscrapers of Manhattan illuminating the moonlit sky.
Letty’s eyes closed as he kissed his way down her throat. She felt breathless, like she was lost in a dream.
He kissed over the diamond necklace to her bare clavicle and the valley between her full breasts, half revealed above the low-cut bodice of her gown.
Picking her up, he carried her past the sweeping ivy into a half-enclosed room protected on two sides by walls, with a rustic chandelier hanging over a long table. Two leather sofas were arranged around a fireplace and well-stocked bar.
He flicked a switch, and the gas fire lit up. She saw Darius’s face clearly in the flickering firelight as they faced each other silently. The soft wind blew against her hair, her skin.
Slowly, Darius removed his tuxedo jacket and dropped it to the flagstone floor. Coming closer, he unzipped her pink dress. She felt the brush of his fingertips, then the warm night air against her bare skin as her gown dropped to the floor beside his jacket. She stepped out of the fabric, wearing only the diamonds, a lace bra, panties and the wicked pink crystal stiletto heels.
He stepped back, looking at her.
“Incredible,” he breathed in deep masculine appreciation, and she realized that, just as he’d promised, he was seeing her in the lingerie. She scowled.
“Do you always get what you want?” she said accusingly.
“I do,” he said, caressing her cheek. “And now, so will you.”
She licked her lips and felt a thrill of delight as his expression changed to raw desire. Reaching up, she saucily loosened his tuxedo tie, before tugging on it, drawing him closer for a kiss.
It was the first time she’d ever made the first move, and he growled fierce approval. Holding her tight, he kissed her back hungrily.
His hands caressed her naked skin, her arms, her shoulders, the small of her back. And suddenly she couldn’t remove his clothes fast enough. His tie, cuff links, shirt. They all dropped to the floor.
His tanned body, laced with dark hair, looked like sculpted marble in the flickering firelight, all hard muscles and taut belly. She brushed her hand lightly against his chest. His skin felt like silk over steel. Biting her lip, she lifted her eyes to his.
“If I’m yours, Darius,” she whispered, standing in front of him in the half-enclosed room, “you’re mine.”
Brushing back long dark tendrils of her hair, he pulled her roughly into his arms. His hard-muscled chest moved against her full, aching breasts and pregnant belly. The soft wind whispered against her bare skin as he unhooked her silk lace bra, and her breasts sprang free. He looked down at her body and gave a quick breath.
Pressing her breasts together, he cupped their weight in his hands before he lowered his head to suckle one pink, full nipple, then the other.
Shuddering with pleasure, she closed her eyes.
His hands stroked gently, reverently, down her body to her naked belly to her hips, still covered with the tiny silk panties.
Running his hand down her legs, he knelt before her and pulled off one stiletto, then the other, as she balanced against him, her hands gripping his shoulders. She remained standing—barely—as
he caressed upward from her manicured toes, to the tender hollows of her knees, and higher still. She swallowed, holding her breath as he stroked up her thighs.
She closed her eyes, heart pounding as he pulled her panties down her legs. She couldn’t move fast enough. He impatiently ripped them off in his powerful hands, tossing the flimsy silk aside.
“Those were expensive—” she protested.
He looked up, and the edges of his cruel, sensual mouth curved upward. “They served their purpose.”
An icy fear suddenly crept through her heart as Letty wondered if she, too, might someday have served her purpose. If he might someday rip her apart, then discard her.
Then all her rational thought fled as, still on his knees, he gripped her hips and moved between her legs.
She felt the warmth of his breath on the most sensitive, intimate part of her body, as she stood naked with the warm night breeze swirling against her skin, as one of New York’s most famous billionaires knelt before her in the firelight, beneath the ivy walls of a rooftop garden.
Holding her tight, he lowered his mouth between her thighs and tasted her with a soft moan. He licked her as if she were a melting ice cream cone in his favorite flavor, creamy and sweet. As she gasped, his rhythm intensified, until he worked her with his tongue, sliding sensuously against her. Pleasure exploded through her body almost immediately, and he gripped her hips, keeping her firmly against his mouth as her body twisted with the sudden intensity of pleasure that left her knees weak and sent spasms all over her body.
She was still dizzy in the heights of pleasure as he rose to his feet and drew her toward the sofa. He lay down first, stretching out naked against the black leather, hard and ready for her. She took a step, then hesitated, biting her lip.
“What is it?”
She tried not to look at how huge he was, his hard shaft jutting arrogantly from his body. She blushed, feeling shy. “Um, what do I do?”
He gave a low, lazy laugh, then pulled her over him.
“I’ll show you,” he said huskily.
He spread her across him on the sofa, her thighs over his hips, his arousal pressing low against her pregnant belly. He reached up, cupping her cheek. As he drew her down for a kiss, her long dark hair fell like a veil against his skin.
The kiss was tender at first. She relaxed into it with a sigh, her body curving over his as his hands roamed gently over her back, her arms, her belly, her breasts. Then his kiss deepened, turning urgent and fierce. Placing his hands on her hips, he lifted her up, positioning himself beneath her.
He slowly lowered her down on him, filling her, inch by delicious inch, in tantalizing slow motion.
She gasped as she felt him inside her, going deep, then deeper still. Her whole body started to tighten, more savagely than it had before.
Lifting her hips, he lowered her again, showing her the rhythm, until her body started to move of its own accord. Closing her eyes with fervent intensity, she rode him, slowly at first, then faster. The pleasure built and built...
Her lips parted in a silent cry as joy burst like fireworks shaking through her body. She heard his low gasp as he, too, exploded, pouring inside her.
She collapsed, falling softly against him on the black leather sofa.
For long moments, he held her tenderly, as if her weight were nothing. Their bodies were still fused, slick with sweat, as he leaned up to kiss her. He felt so solid and strong beneath her. Like a foundation that could never be shaken.
She shivered in his arms. In the half-enclosed outdoor room, the September night was growing cool. But that wasn’t the reason.
The idea of being Darius’s wife had seemed like a recipe for disaster, if not outright doom. And so it would be, if she were tempted into giving him her heart, while in return, he gave her only money.
Letty looked down at the heavy diamond ring, now shining dully on her left hand.
If only Darius could again be the young man she remembered, with the kind nature and forgiving heart. She would willingly give him everything. Not just her body, not just her name, but her heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HE WAS A GENIUS, Darius thought as he woke in his bed the next morning with sunlight flooding in through the windows. He looked down at Letty sleeping beside him and smiled. A damn genius. Best five billion dollars ever spent.
And he would spend the rest of his life being thrilled, if it continued paying off like it did last night. The sex had been spectacular. And even more. Something had changed in the way Letty looked at him. He loved the mixture of gratitude and shy hope he saw in her eyes.
He kissed Letty’s temple tenderly. She yawned, stretching like a cat.
“What time is it?” she murmured, her eyes still closed.
“Late,” he said, amused. “Almost noon.”
Her eyes flew open. “Oh, no! I’m late for—” Then she seemed to remember how much had changed in the last twenty-four hours, and that being late for work was no longer an issue. “Oh. Right.” She bit her lip, blushing and looking so adorable that he was tempted to keep her in bed another hour.
It was incredible how much he still wanted her, when they’d made love four times last night—on the rooftop terrace, here in bed, and in the shower when they decided to wash off. Only to promptly get all sweaty again when they returned to bed.
Letty was meant to be his, Darius marveled. He’d never felt so sexually satisfied in his life.
And yet already he wanted more. How was it possible?
He smiled down at her. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” she admitted. “And thirsty.”
“I can solve that.” Rising from the bed, he got a white terry cloth robe and handed her one, too. “Come out to the kitchen.”
She gave a sudden scowl, and even that was adorable. “You didn’t tell me you had staff staying at the penthouse. What if they heard us last night? What if they—”
“There are no live-in staff. I have a housekeeper who comes in four times a week, that’s it.”
She blinked in confusion. “Then who’s going to cook?”
“I’m not totally useless.”
She looked at him with unflattering shock in her eyes. “You can’t cook, Darius.”
“No?” His smile widened to a grin. “Come see.”
She ate her words shortly afterward, sitting in the brightly lit kitchen at the counter, as he served her an omelet to order with tomatoes, bacon and five kinds of cheese, along with orange juice over ice. When she took the first bite of the omelet, her eyes went wide.
“Good, huh?” he said smugly, sitting beside her with his own enormous omelet of ham and cheese, drenched in salsa. Being a sexual hero all night definitely had built his appetite.
And hers, as well. If he felt like a hero, Letty was a sex goddess, he thought. Even now, he felt aware of her, just sitting companionably beside her at the counter with its dazzling view of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows. But he wasn’t looking at the view. He was watching her.
“Delicious,” she moaned softly as she gobbled it down, bite after bite. “We should serve omelets at our wedding.”
He gave a low laugh. “I appreciate the compliment, but I don’t see myself whipping up omelets for a thousand.”
She froze. “A thousand? Guests?”
Gulping black coffee, he shrugged. “Our wedding will be the social event of the year, as you deserve. All of New York society will come and grovel at your feet.”
She didn’t look thrilled. She took another bite of omelet. “That’s not what I want.”
“No?” he said lazily, tucking back a tendril of her dark hair. His eyes traced the creamy skin of her neck, down to the smooth temptation of her clavicle and swell of her breasts above the luxurious white cotton robe. He glanced down to her belt, tied loosely between her breasts and pregnant belly. He had the sudden impulse to sweep all the dishes to the floor, tug open her robe and lean her back naked against the counter.
“A
wedding should be a happy occasion.” She shook her head. “Those society people aren’t my friends. They never really were. Why would I invite them?”
“To rub your new status in their faces? I thought you’d glory in your return to status as the queen of it all.”
“Me?” Letty snorted. “I was never queen of anything. As a teenager I never knew the right clothes to wear or understood how to play the society game. I was a total nerd.”
He frowned. “I never saw you that way. I just assumed...”
“That I was a spoiled princess?” She gave him a funny smile. “I was spoiled, though not the way you mean. I always knew I was loved.” Her face was wistful. “My parents loved each other and they loved me.”
Revenge wasn’t Letty’s style, Darius realized. She never showed off or tried to make others feel bad. Even when she was younger, she’d always been most comfortable reading the dusty leather-bound books in Fairholme’s oak-paneled library, baking cakes with the cook in the kitchen or playing with the gardener’s kittens in the yard. Letty never wanted to be the center of attention. She was always more worried about other people’s feelings than her own.
In this respect, Darius thought, the two of them were very different.
“And I had a real home,” she whispered.
Memories of that beautiful gray stone manor on the edge of the sea, surrounded by roses, came to his mind. He said gruffly, “You still miss Fairholme after all this time?”
She gave him a sad smile. “I know it’s gone for good. But I still dream about it. My mother was born there. Four generations of my family.”
“What happened to it?”
She looked down at her plate. “A tech billionaire bought it at a cut-rate price. I heard he changed everything, added zebra-print shag carpeting and neon lights, and turned the nursery into his own private disco. Of course that was his right. But he wouldn’t let me take a picture of my great-grandmother’s fresco before he destroyed it with his sandblaster.”
A low growl came from Darius’s throat. He remembered the nursery fresco, a charming monstrosity picturing a sad-eyed little goose girl leading ducks and geese through what looked like a Bavarian village. Not his cup of tea, but it was part of the house’s history. “I’m sorry.”