Tempted by the Tycoon's Proposal

by Rachael Stewart

  His eyes fell to her lips, the urge to kiss her so natural and strong that he was lucky she pulled back, lucky she’d seen sense where he couldn’t.

  He kissed his daughter’s forehead and straightened up, reminding himself of the promises he’d made and why.

  Only the reasoning was starting to feel woolly, less reasonable...bordering on monastic even.

  Sophia padded out of the room, a move he sensed rather than saw as his eyes were fixed on his daughter, his mind focused on the reasoning that had always seemed so solid.

  He already felt so much for Sophia, so much that he could hardly get a handle on it, and though he was sure it had a lot to do with Lily’s feelings for her, it didn’t help.

  Maybe they just needed to agree on expectations now to avoid any future confusion. Set some ground rules even. Chaos at work was the result of mismanagement, so maybe he just needed to lay down the law in his personal life and protect both Lily and Sophia.

  Who was he kidding? He wanted to protect himself too.

  It had been harrowing losing Elena, a woman for whom he’d cared deeply but hadn’t loved as she’d wanted, as she’d deserved. He was convinced he was wired wrong, that being stuck in the system for so long had screwed him up emotionally. Even Elena had thrown as much at him on many occasions; virtually every fight had come down to his inability to care, to think of her enough, to empathise.

  And he’d come to believe she was right, but now he wasn’t so sure. Whatever Sophia sparked in him, it was new and it was different, and it scared him half to death.

  But not enough to run the other way...

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘YOU REALLY ARE a natural.’

  Sophia looked up at the sound of Jack’s voice and felt her cheeks colour, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. But she was only guilty of curling up on the L-shaped sofa that dominated the living area in his penthouse suite.

  This wasn’t her domain though. As much as she knew this suite like she knew her own home, she didn’t belong, not like this.

  But she felt as if she did.

  She’d felt it when she’d been lying next to Lily, reading her the story. She’d felt it all day as they’d laughed and joked and enjoyed the company of her friends. And she felt it now... It was only the rational side of her brain telling her it was all still fantasy.

  ‘A natural?’ She cocked a brow and let her eyes fall to the empty glasses hooked in his fingers and the bottle of red he carried—the very rare bottle of red that would have been pulled out of the cellar especially. Definitely all fantasy.

  He offered her a glass and she took it, wetting her lips. She shouldn’t be taking it; she shouldn’t be letting this evening continue now Lily was asleep. But the sound of the deep red liquid hitting the glass told her otherwise. Her tummy fluttered with a mixture of nerves and desire...

  But she did want to talk to him about Lily, and it was as good a reason as any to stay longer.

  Still, she wasn’t fool enough to think it was her only reason.

  ‘You’re a natural with kids, with Lily,’ he explained as he poured his own glass and set the bottle down on the large glass coffee table. ‘You looked completely at home reading her a story.’

  He joined her on the sofa—not close enough that she could feel the sofa dip but close enough that her entire body came alive with awareness of his.

  She took a sip of the wine and used its soothing warmth to unblock her throat and calm the flutters taking off inside. She felt unbearably hot and cursed her own stupidity for lighting the gas fire that ran along one wall. She hadn’t been able to resist it though; it was her favourite feature in the immense suite, that and the view. And she had been cold before his arrival, cold and on edge about the tough conversation she wanted to have and no idea how to broach it.

  ‘I used to read to my sister,’ she murmured, her eyes lost in the flames as she divulged an honest piece of herself and remembered happier times.

  ‘Mum and Dad worked long hours so I’d often take over the bedtime routine—bath, teeth, bed and book.’ She risked a glance his way and became transfixed. The grey of his eyes, warmed by the glow of the fire, shone as the pulse in his jaw ticked, his face oddly tense.

  She wet her lips. ‘Sorry to take your place tonight.’

  He shook his head. ‘You think that worries me?’

  His voice was husky, laced with some emotion that she couldn’t quite place. No, she could; she just didn’t want to because it suggested he cared and the idea of that only led them down a scary, unknown path.

  She smiled tentatively and gave a small shrug. ‘I’m not sure.’

  He took a breath, his eyes falling to his glass. ‘No, it’s nice that she wants you to read to her. What...’ His eyes came back to her, soft, concerned. ‘What bothers me is your relationship with your family. You miss them.’

  She was so surprised by his turn in focus that she didn’t know how to react, let alone what to say. She shook her head.

  ‘You do, Sophia; it’s written in your face when you talk of them. You’re so haunted by her loss that you’d rather avoid them than try to forge a relationship of any sort.’ He paused, his eyes scanning her face. ‘I know I shouldn’t compare, but it would kill me to lose touch with Lily, and I think it’s slowly eating away at you too.’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t know how to fix things. I don’t even know where to begin...’

  ‘You just need to be honest with them, talk to them. Yes, it’ll be different to how it was, but a new relationship is better than none. And you need to do it while you still can, while they’re still around.’ He shifted closer, adding quietly, ‘We both know how short life can be.’

  She took a shaky breath. She knew he was right, knew it and yet she hadn’t been able to make that first move. And her parents... Well, they’d given up making the first move long ago.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Sophia.’

  His voice rasped with emotion, its rough edge working over her body like a caress and a hug in one. She felt the spike of tears, felt her throat close and tried to swallow, but it was no use; they were coming and there was nothing she could do about it.

  This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to talk about Lily; she wanted to make him realise that his daughter needed to be around other children, not have some ad hoc therapy session with the man she could so easily fall for...fall for and never have...

  She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips and tried to nod her head in response, to let him know his words had hit home. She felt his arm slip behind her, the warmth of his body as they came together, and she didn’t know whether she leaned in or if he’d moved, but she was in his arms, her head tucked beneath his, her body shaking as she let go.

  ‘She was in my care though; she was my responsibility.’

  ‘And you were no more than a child yourself.’

  ‘I was old enough to take care of her and...and...’ She couldn’t finish it; the tears were too much, the sob shuddering up through her. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Please, you don’t need to be strong with me, Soph. It’s okay to let go.’

  She gave a scoff. Strong? It was hardly how she saw herself.

  He leaned away to place his glass on the side, came back to take hers next and then his arms were around her and she couldn’t pull away. She was too comfortable, too soothed, too lost in his scent and inviting warmth.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but I couldn’t let you leave tonight without saying something. Blame it on me being a father: Lily will never know her mother. Yes, she has a picture by her bed. Yes, I talk about her, what she liked, what they did together...but she’ll never have real memories of her, she’ll never know her for herself. She has me and I’ll do all I can to be enough.’

  I’ll do all I can to be enough...

  She took a dee
p breath, his words hitting so close to what she wanted to discuss that she needed to regain her control, to make him see.

  ‘You’re a good father.’

  He gave a gentle laugh, the move making her head lift against his chest.

  ‘You are...’ she insisted.

  ‘But? Why do I sense there’s going to be a but?’

  She pressed herself off his chest to look at him, needing him to see that what came next wasn’t designed to hurt him or criticise him; she just wanted him to see the truth. ‘But Lily needs more than just you.’

  His eyes narrowed as his body tensed beneath her fingers. ‘Look, Sophia, I know things between us...between us are... I don’t know what they are...but I have no place in my life for a woman, for a rel—’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she choked out, shuffling back on the sofa as she swept her fingers over her damp cheeks and felt them burn and pale in an instant.

  ‘It isn’t?’

  She shook her head, wondering how he could look disappointed as well as flummoxed when he’d been midway through lecturing her on how they could never be. She knew that well enough on her own. The last thing she needed was to hear him state it in black and white.

  He raked his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. ‘Of course. Sorry, I just assumed.’

  ‘Well, you can take your assumption and shove it where—’ She pursed her lips tight, her eyes wide in horror at her own outburst. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lost it quite so badly, but then she couldn’t remember ever being as embarrassed as she was right now. ‘Just because you’re used to women willing to hop into bed with you doesn’t mean you can count me amongst them.’

  Well...he could but he would never know that.

  ‘Is that really what you think?’

  ‘It’s not what I think; it’s what I know. I’m not about to follow suit.’

  ‘I wasn’t referring to your lack of desire for me.’

  Oh, God, even the word desire from his lips had the heat pooling in her lower belly. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin. ‘No?’

  ‘No, I was referring to the fact you think women in general are—how did you phrase it?—willing to hop into bed with me?’

  She could feel her cheeks re-colouring, the warmth whipping through her limbs. This was dangerous territory and so far from the conversation she actually wanted to have.

  ‘If that truly is what you think...’ he murmured, low, teasing, his eyes probing hers and reading far too much; he was too near, his body still too close despite the distance she had created ‘... I find it interesting that you declare yourself...immune.’

  Immune!

  She was so far from immune it was laughable. And now wasn’t the time to laugh. Now was the time to run. But not until she’d spoken to him about Lily.

  ‘So...are you, Sophia?’

  ‘Am I what?’ she said, breathless, unblinking, immobile.

  ‘Are you immune to me?’

  * * *

  Jack raked his eyes over her. From her over-bright eyes, drowned out by her pupils, the freed strands of her auburn hair framing her flushed cheeks, her lips parted with the denial she couldn’t quite utter. To her soft woollen jumper and denim-clad legs curled beneath her upon the sofa and hiding her fluffy-socked feet—socks he had bought her, a first—and never had he desired a woman more.

  He didn’t need skimpy lingerie, fancy dresses, heels, or make-up. He simply needed her. Like this: honest, vulnerable, open. He was captivated. And it meant he should be ending this conversation, not encouraging it.

  But could he let it go...?

  ‘Are you, Sophia?’ No, he couldn’t.

  She wet her lips. ‘You can’t ask me that.’

  Even her voice turned him on, her words emerging all breathy and heated.

  ‘I think it’s good to know where we stand.’

  She wet her lips again and his restraint almost snapped. He wanted to taste those lips, wanted to hear her confess that she wanted him, that she wanted him like he did her.

  ‘It doesn’t matter whether I want you; in a week you will be gone and that will be that.’

  ‘Be that as it may, it doesn’t mean we have to deny it.’

  Her eyes flared and his entire body tingled with the need to reach for her. To stroke her cheeks, feel their heat beneath his palms, feel that pulse point at her throat tick beneath his fingertips. He reached for his glass, desperate, needing to keep his hands busy, needing to take a second.

  As he drank his wine she watched him, the air fizzing with the unspoken and all the things they could be doing. Her body was so still that if it wasn’t for the faint sound of her breathing, the movement of her chest, he’d think she’d turned to stone.

  ‘What are you saying, Jack?’

  Her question was as quiet as his glass touching down on the polished surface and as he leaned back he turned into her, close enough that their knees brushed. He didn’t miss her sudden intake of breath as the contact zipped through her, just as it did him.

  ‘I’m saying that I want you, Sophia.’

  ‘Jack...’ another whisper, accompanied by the tiny shake of her head ‘...we can’t. You even said it just now.’

  ‘I said I didn’t have time or, rather, the place in my life for a relationship,’ he expanded. ‘And the truth is I could never be the man for you, Sophia. You deserve to be loved.’ His eyes lingered over her face, taking in all that he had come to...come to what? Come to feel something for? To desire? No. It wasn’t all desire, but it couldn’t be what she would want it to be, what she would need. ‘You deserve to be put on a pedestal and adored by a man worthy of you and, as much as I would like to be that man, I know I’m not.’

  ‘How can you know that?’

  ‘Because I’ve been married, I’ve been loved and...’ He shook his head, the sadness overwhelming. How could he tell her that he hadn’t been able to love Elena back in the way that she deserved? Lily’s mother, of all people. How could he tell Sophia the cold-hearted truth of how he’d failed her?

  ‘I know I could never take Elena’s place,’ she said and he could see his own sadness reflected back at him. ‘I wouldn’t want to.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Sophia.’

  ‘What don’t I understand?’

  ‘I never loved Elena.’ His chest tightened, his heart crushed within it, and he saw the second his words hit home, the sudden change to her pallor, the tremble to her lips. ‘Not in that way.’

  ‘Of course you did. You looked out for her, you worked hard to make a life for you both, you made Lily, you married her...’ She floundered, refusing to accept it.

  ‘I cared for her deeply and I wanted to protect her. I wanted to save her from the life we’d found ourselves in. But I wasn’t in love with her. I couldn’t return her love in the same all-consuming way she loved me. I was devastated when she died—devastated that she’d been taken so young, that she would never see our daughter grow up, that she had died miserable and alone because of me.’

  The guilt clawed at him now, the chill pushing out the illicit heat of seconds before.

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

  ‘It is.’ He hardened his voice and his stance now. ‘I’m not a good man, Sophia. I’m not a man you can fall in love with, I’m not a man you should invest your time in. I love that you have brought so much joy to Lily, that she’s had this time with you and your friends. But you and I, we can never have a future.’

  ‘You are a good man, Jack,’ she whispered. ‘I know we can’t have a future; I understand that. I’d be a fool to think otherwise. But all these things you’re saying to me, they’re not true. I can’t believe them—I won’t.’

  ‘Elena did. She believed them through and through, and she would know. She knew me for fourteen years and the last words I
had from her were thrown at my answerphone. If I hadn’t deleted them I could play them for you now, then maybe you’d believe me.’

  She shook her head, the tears returning to her eyes and he knew they were born of sympathy, of pity, and he deserved neither.

  ‘She called me a cold, heartless bastard, and said that if I loved my work so much I could forget coming home, that night or any other for that matter.’

  She flung her hand to her lips, but her gasp beneath her fingers was still audible, the shake of her head more severe. ‘You can’t believe that...you can’t.’

  ‘Oh, I believe it all right. If not for the accident, if she hadn’t died, she would have left eventually.’ He threw back more wine and felt the bitterness, the sadness crawling through him. ‘Because she was right. I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t deserve either of them, and then fate played its hand...’ He shook his head. ‘Elena never deserved that.’

  His body shook, his lungs struggling to take in air. He hadn’t cried. Not even when the news had been delivered. Not even that first night back in the empty house when he’d cleared away the untouched dinner. Not even at the funeral. It had all been confirmation that Elena was right. He had no heart and he was incapable of love, bar that which he felt for his daughter.

  He was so lost in the rising grief he didn’t sense Sophia move, not until her arms were wrapped around him offering the comfort he had so willingly offered her when she’d spoken of her sister. But she deserved it. He didn’t.

  He pushed himself up off the sofa and out of her hold. He raked his hand over his face and clenched his jaw as he fought back the wave of tears. Tears!

  ‘I don’t deserve your comfort or your sympathy, Sophia,’ he bit out. ‘She was right. I didn’t love her, but I do love Lily and I will do right by my daughter. I will always do right by her. Outside of that...’ he looked down at her, his eyes pleading with her to see the truth ‘... I can’t.’