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Her Secret, His Child: A Night, A Secret...A Child / One-Night Love-Child / The French Aristocrat's Baby
Her Secret, His Child: A Night, A Secret...A Child / One-Night Love-Child / The French Aristocrat's Baby
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Her Secret, His Child: A Night, A Secret...A Child / One-Night Love-Child / The French Aristocrat's Baby

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‘Fine.’ Satisfied for the moment, he leant out of the driver’s window and swiped the key card across the security unit attached to the wall. As the gate slowly lifted, Nicolas glanced at his watch.

It was noon. High noon.

He smiled a wry smile.

What have I done? Serina agonised when she saw Nicolas smile.

You’ve sold your soul to the devil, that’s what you’ve done.

No, not my soul. My body. My soul is still mine.

But this last thought was little consolation. Serina’s hands curled into tight fists in her lap as Nicolas drove slowly down the ramp before angling the bulky vehicle into an empty parking space in a dimly lit corner of the basement car park. The moment the engine died, a nervous sigh shuddered from her lungs.

‘There’s no need for that,’ he said with surprising tenderness, and reached over to take her tense hands in his. ‘I don’t mean you any harm, my darling,’ he murmured, and lifted her hands to his mouth, where he kissed the whitened knuckles one after the other. ‘I just want to make love to you the way I used to. Not what we shared that night at the Opera House. That was way too fast and furious. I want to enjoy you at length the way we did in the beginning. Remember how it used to be between us?’

How could she forget?

Already she was trembling inside.

‘You used to do whatever I asked. Whatever I wanted. Be like that with me one more time and I’ll leave like you asked me to.’

A soft moan escaped her lips when he uncurled one of her fingers and pushed it deep into his mouth. She closed her eyes as he began to suck, her mind filling with memories of all the things he’d done to her in the past. Nothing had been taboo in the end. Everything had been tried, everything enjoyed. Even…

Serina snapped open at that particular memory.

‘You… you do have protection with you, don’t you?’ she blurted out.

Slowly, his head lifted, leaving her finger wet and tingling.

‘Of course,’ he said softly.

Of course. Nicolas had always been a thinker and a planner. Only twice had he not practised safe sex with her. That first time. And then during that wildly impassioned encounter at the Opera House, for which she only had herself to blame.

His head turned at the sound of a group of people walking across the car park and getting in a nearby car.

‘Time, I think,’ came his oh-so-cool words, ‘for us to go upstairs… ’

CHAPTER TEN (#ulink_ba6fa39c-315a-52a9-a8fc-ee57a42bf7f9)

SERINA’S knees felt like jelly during their short walk to the lift well. She was glad that no one joined them there, leaving them alone for the ride up to Nicolas’s floor. She didn’t want anyone to see the state she was in. Though nothing much was visible on the outside, nothing except for her possibly haunted eyes and her rock-hard nipples. An outsider could not see her wildly whirling thoughts, or the shocking wetness between her legs.

Nicolas, on the other hand, to all appearances had regained total control of himself. There again, he hadn’t touched her since alighting from the SUV, going about his business with the key card in the lift without even glancing her way. So maybe he wasn’t quite as cool as he was pretending to be.

Once they left the lift, he did take her elbow, steering her across a grey carpeted foyer and down a corridor to a door marked number seventy-three in silver numbers. A quick swipe of the key card and a green light came on in the silver door handle, Nicolas swiftly pushing the door open.

The apartment was, she saw immediately, not run-of-the-mill holiday accommodation. The living room into which she first walked was very spacious, the décor expensive. The walls and ceilings were painted a soft off-white, with the furniture, floor and accessories in various shades of blue, ranging from the palest of grey-blues to quite bright blues to the darkest navy, with the odd splash of turquoise thrown in.

‘Very nice,’ she murmured, and dropped her handbag onto a large navy leather armchair before moving across the room to the sliding glass doors, which led out to the balcony.

‘It’s locked,’ she said when the door wouldn’t slide open.

Nicolas strode over, lifted the latch then locked it again.

‘Oh,’ she said, feeling totally flustered and confused.

Nicolas cupped her face and forced her eyes up to his. ‘If you think you’re going to waste time out there looking at a view you’ve seen a million times before, Serina, then think again. I didn’t bring you up here to play pretend tourist. Now, as pretty as this dress is that you’re wearing,’ he said, his hands dropping down to the wide belt around her waist, ‘it has to go.’

Serina’s first instinct was to object. But her second thought was to stay silent and just let him get on with it. After all, this was what she’d agreed to. And what she’d often dreamt about over the years. To somehow be able to go back into the past when they were teenagers and so very much in love.

Which they had been.

Not once had Serina ever felt that the intimacies they’d shared were just acts of lust. It had always been lovemaking, not sex. Nicolas had never made her feel used. Yes, he was dominant and domineering, but he was also tender and loving. He never stopped telling her how much he loved her and how beautiful she was.

Her stomach twisted at this last thought. Would he still think her beautiful? She was not as young, or as firm. She’d had a child. Her breasts drooped a bit and her belly, though without stretch marks, was soft and rounded.

‘Nicolas,’ she choked out.

His eyes flashed impatience at her. ‘What now?’

‘Tell me that you love me.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t have to mean it. Just say it. I want to hear you say it.’

Nicolas just stared at her. He would never understand women. Why couldn’t she just be honest? She didn’t want his love, so why ask for fake words?

‘You said you wanted to make love to me the way you used to,’ she went on before he could say anything. ‘Well, you used to tell me how much you loved me all the time. And how beautiful I was. It made all that we did together… seem right.’

Nicolas was totally unprepared for the wave of emotion that her words evoked. It choked him up, a huge lump forming in his throat.

‘You think I’m silly, don’t you?’ she said in a broken voice, which almost brought him undone.

Somehow he managed to hold himself together, though he had to clear his throat before answering her. His words weren’t critical, but his tone was brusque and uncompromising.

‘You’re a woman, and women look at things differently to men. We don’t need the justification of love to make sex acceptable. There’s nothing wrong with a man and a woman enjoying each others’ bodies. Which we have always done, Serina. More perhaps than most men and women. I can honestly say that I have never forgotten what we shared. It was, indeed, unforgettable. It’s why you came to me that night at the Opera House, and why you’re here now. Why I’m here. There is a chemistry between us that refuses to die, or even fade. We will take it to our graves. But we’re all grown up now,’ he said as he removed the belt from her waist and tossed it aside. ‘There’s no need to say things we don’t mean.’

A type of relief claimed Nicolas once he stopped talking and started seriously undressing her. It had taken a supreme effort of will not to say what she wanted him to say. Because, to be brutally honest, he wasn’t sure that he did.

Emotions could be deceptive. Especially desire.

He wanted her the way he’d always wanted her. But was that love?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Even if it was, there was no point in loving her. She didn’t love him back. He’d overheard what she’d said to her daughter. She’d loved Greg Harmon. She didn’t want anything to do with him, except in this most basic way. He’d been right when he said she was just trying to justify her feelings with romantic words. The bottom line was she was here because she wanted sex.

Nicolas’s teeth clenched down hard in his jaw, his last thoughts hardening his heart towards her. She wanted sex, did she? Well, he’d give her sex. And he’d make her beg. He hadn’t forgotten his earlier threat. If nothing else, he would reduce her to that. And he’d make her say that she loved him.

She’d accused him of coming back for revenge. Who knew? Maybe he had…

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_4b2532c1-afd8-57ed-a2ed-fe0b88c3a2d6)

SERINA could not remember Nicolas undressing her quite this quickly before. In the old days he’d liked to take his time over everything. She suspected that their first rushed encounter had seriously embarrassed him, stinging the perfectionist in his nature. But nothing was ever rushed. The undressing, the foreplay, the act itself. He would sometimes spend up to an hour playing with her body’s erogenous zones, using his hands mostly, but also his mouth. He’d loved making her climax over and over before he entered her, loved watching her eyes, loved the feel of her wet heat when his own flesh finally fused with hers.

She knew all this because he would tell her, his constant stream of hot words turning her on, and keeping her turned on.

Even that fateful night thirteen years ago, when they’d fallen upon each other like wild beasts, he’d talked incessantly, telling her how much he’d missed her; how much he loved her. He’d only become silent when he fell asleep.

Today he was stripping her in total silence, almost roughly, not bothering to linger as he once would have. In no time she was nude before him, trembling with nerves and tension.

He stepped back at that stage and just looked at her, his eyes both hot and cold at the same time. Serina had no idea what he was thinking. He seemed angry for some reason, which upset her.

‘What is it, Nicolas?’ she blurted out. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Why should anything be wrong?’ he snapped and reefed his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers.

Suddenly she understood. He’d come all this way, hoping that they could find each other again. Maybe he’d even hoped she would finally go away with him. One afternoon of reliving old times was not what he had in mind.

Her heart twisted with dismay. Oh, Nicolas, Nicolas, why didn’t you come back for me sooner? Why did you wait till it was too late?

But at least he’d come. She had that to be grateful for. She would not die without knowing that she’d meant as much to him as he had to her.

‘Let me do that,’ she said softly when he started wrenching open the buttons on his shirt.

As she stepped forward to take his hands away, she gazed up into his undeniably startled eyes. ‘I always wanted to undress you. But you never would let me. You might find you like it.’ She started slowly undoing his shirt buttons one by one, satisfied when she heard his breath catch in his throat.

It was exciting, taking control, something she’d never done, either with Nicolas or with Greg. Her husband had been a conventional lover with simple sexual needs and definite expectations of her as his wife. He’d interpreted her initial reluctance to sleep with him as an indication that sex was not a high priority with her. Serina had never led him to believe otherwise. She rarely said no to him when he approached her in their marital bed. But the pleasure he gave her, whilst pleasant enough, never came even close to what she’d experienced with Nicolas, which she knew she would experience today. Already her heart was racing with anticipation of what lay ahead.

Nicolas could not believe he was doing this, letting her undress him. It was not his usual modus operandi when it came to sex. There was, however, affection in Serina’s lovely dark eyes as she undid the buttons on his shirt. Seeing that affection stirred both his body and his soul. It was no use. He couldn’t pretend this was just about sex. Maybe it was for Serina. She’d obviously come a long way in experience over the years. As much as it killed him to admit it, Greg Harmon had obviously been an excellent lover. Nicolas couldn’t imagine Serina falling in love with any man who didn’t please her sexually.

But Greg Harmon is dead, he reminded himself in his usual pragmatic and rather ruthless fashion, and I’m here!

No way was Nicolas going to let jealousy ruin the next few hours. Serina was his again, for now. And he was going to enjoy her to the full.

‘You’ve looked after yourself, haven’t you?’she said admiringly when she finally pushed his shirt back off his shoulders.

He had. Not because he was obsessed by his body image, but because he’d found working out was an antidote for the depression that had seized him after the accident. After a while, going to the gym several times a week had become a habit. He was glad now that he had, glad that she could look at him and like what she saw. He certainly liked what he saw. Serina was even more beautiful for having had a child. Her body was curvier and sexier. She was sexier.

‘I always loved it that you didn’t have much body hair,’ she murmured as she ran her fingertips provocatively over his smooth chest muscles. His nipples tightened under her touch. It wasn’t the only physical change she was evoking. He’d thought his flesh couldn’t become harder. But he was wrong.

‘Serina,’ he bit out warningly.

‘Mmmm?’

‘Move on,’ he advised thickly.

She smiled. It was a woman’s smile, sweet and sexy at the same time.

When her hands dropped to the waistband of his trousers, Nicolas had to use all of his willpower to take control of his body.

He managed to get through her undressing him without disaster striking. But the moment her hand reached out to touch him down there, he simply had to stop her.

‘No,’ he growled, and grabbed her hand in his.

Serina stared up at him, her dark eyes startled.

‘You only have yourself to blame,’ he said drily as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. ‘You are way too beautiful to last long this first time.’

She didn’t say anything, just gave him a look that implied he was lying. Which he wasn’t, of course.

‘But never fear, my darling,’ he went on as he laid her down on top of the soft blue quilt. ‘Things won’t always be this rushed.’

‘You’re… you’re not wearing protection?’ she sputtered when he went to join her on the bed.

His teeth clenched down hard in his jaw with frustration. ‘See? I’ve totally lost my head over my desire for you. Won’t be long.’And he walked off in the direction of the en suite bathroom.

Serina just lay there, staring after him and wondering if he’d deliberately tried to have sex with her without a condom.

Surely not! But if not, then what? The thought that he had been overcome with desire for her was flattering in the extreme.

Don’t go there, Serina, she warned herself. He does not love you. This is all about winning, not love.

He came striding back into the bedroom, looking like a Viking warrior intent on ravagement. The sight of his intense desire inflamed her own once more, making her belly tighten and her thighs tremble. Suddenly, it didn’t matter why he’d come back. He was here: her Nicolas, her one true love.

‘Nicolas,’ she choked out, holding out her arms and opening her legs at the same time.

He groaned, then fell upon her, much like he had that night at the Opera House, his flesh fusing with hers like a sword being slid roughly into its scabbard. She gasped and clung to him, her arms wrapping around his back, her legs lifting to wind tightly around his waist. She whimpered as he surged into her again and again, her head threshing from side to side.

‘No, don’t,’ he said with a groan when she went to shut her eyes. ‘Look at me, Serina, look at me.’

So she looked at him, and came immediately, her mouth falling open as she sucked in some much-needed air. He kissed her then, kissed her and came at the same time, without missing a beat of his merciless rhythm, Serina wallowing in the pleasure and power of his twin possessions, thrilling to the way her body responded to both. She would have stayed that way forever, if it were possible.

But his climax finally ended and his head finally lifted.

She stared up at him as he stroked her hair back from her sweat-beaded forehead, her eyes searching his face as she tried to read his mind. But nothing of his inner feelings showed on his face this time. The stormy passion she’d glimpsed earlier had obviously been sated, at least temporarily.

‘I feel a lot better now,’ he said. ‘Don’t you? No, you don’t have to answer that. I felt your climax right down to my toes. You have to admit that some things never change, my darling. You still come quicker than any girl I’ve ever been with.’

Her heart curled over in dismay that he could be so cold and cruel whilst he was still inside her. But it was good, in a way, for him to show his true colours. It would stop her from harbouring silly thoughts, the kind that had filled her soul when she’d held out her arms to him.

‘I’m rather hungry,’ he went on in that coolly casual fashion that she was sure she would soon hate. ‘I dare say you are, too. Time I think, for some refreshments. And perhaps some refreshing. Good thinking, Nicolas,’ he said, and withdrew from her body with such abruptness that she gasped.

He smiled down into her bereft face.

‘Sorry, darling heart,’ he said, patting her patronisingly on the cheek. ‘But needs must. Once I have the spa bath full and all our goodies lined up in there, it will be all systems go again. Meanwhile, let me tell you again how beautiful you are.’

‘Don’t say that!’ she snapped. ‘You don’t mean it. I know you don’t.’