Chapter 11

Lunch was filling, so they were not hungry for hours, and that was perfect for what he had in mind. He felt a touch of guilt that he was starving for her. That he could not keep his hands to himself where she was concerned.

As soon as they got back, he was on her. They would be leaving in the late afternoon. He had instructed his pilot to pick them up around six, but he had a feeling that things would change as soon as they left.

She would be spending the night with him at his place, of course. He was going to insist on that. But he had a full week ahead of him, commitments he could not slide out of. It was coming toward the holidays, and he had functions, award ceremonies, and a travel itinerary that was bordering on ridiculous.

He did not want to leave her just yet. Or he wanted to suggest she accompanied him. He had poured his heart out to a woman for the first time in his life and she had not said anything to his declaration of love.

He knew he had to give her time, considering what she went through, but he was impatient to have a life with her. He wanted it known that she belonged to him and vice versa. He did not want to give her any chance of changing her mind or becoming indecisive about him.

So, that afternoon, he pulled out all the stops. He seduced her and romanced her to the point where she was weeping. He knew the erogenous places to touch with his tongue, his fingers. He knew what buttons to push and the fact that she was so inexperienced gave him a clean slate to work with.

He labored, long and hard, over her body. He spent time exploring her generous breasts, plumping the flesh, reshaping them, sliding his tongue over the rigid nipples before suckling as if he had all the time in the world. And he switched techniques frequently.

One minute, he was making a leisurely tour of her nipple with his tongue; the next, he was pulling it into his mouth as if he were a starving child and had not been fed for a week. He left her weak and limp with need.

He explored her sex the very same way. His fingers made forays against the soft flesh, circling the mound while his eyes took in her every reaction. He was torturing himself, but he wanted to make certain that she was starving for him, that when he left her as he would be forced to do, she would not forget what transpired between them.

He wanted to be the best she ever had, wanted to make certain she forgot the bastard who had left her in a quagmire of despair. He was determined to make her forget the despair of her past.

He wanted her filled with just him. He brought her to the brink of explosion before he drove himself inside her and realized that he could stay like that for the rest of his life. But his body had been stretched to the limit of his endurance, and nature took over.

As soon as she sheathed him, her tightness wrapped around him, he came violently, endlessly, sweetly, his body shuddering on top of her.

Her name was torn from his lips. He had never called out a woman’s name while in the throes of a climax before, but then again, he had never climaxed so long and hard. It felt as if he was never going to stop, that his entire body was involved in a free float toward destinations unknown.

He wanted her pregnant so she would have no choice but to say yes when he proposed. He would have preferred to spend years having her to himself, with no one to intrude on their getting to know each other, but he was running out of time.

He should have met her when he was in his teens, in his twenties at least.

He had been cheated out of years, and he was going to have to make up the time. And he didn't want to waste anymore.

He also didn’t give her time to rest before he took her again. He gave himself time to get hard again, but she was not afforded any such relief. He used his fingers and his mouth and had her flying again. He knew she was probably exhausted, but she didn’t complain. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying every minute of it.

When he finally dropped back in exhaustion and took her with him, she was curled against his chest, her tears on his flesh.

For several minutes, the silence permeated the room, and then he spoke.

“Marry me.”

She did not respond for a few seconds, and he forced himself to wait.

When she lifted her head, her eyes were drenched with tears, lashes spiked with it. “We only just met, and this is–”She took a deep breath. “It’s going too fast. Please, Richard, I need time.”

“Why?” he asked gruffly.

“To make certain that’s what we both want.”

Understanding dawned, and he wanted to hurt that son of a bitch badly. “You think I am going to change my mind.”

Spiky lashes swept over her eyes, and her fingers played with the hairs on his chest absently. “I just think we should wait. It’s a very important decision–”She gasped when her chin was wrenched upward.

“I know what I want. I am in love with you for Christ's sake!” Taking a deep breath to dispel the anger, he ameliorated his tone. “I am forty-five years old, and for the first time in my life, I am in love. I want our relationship legalized and become permanent.

I want you living with me, going places, sleeping in my bed and waking up next to me every goddamned morning. And I cannot wait.”

She wrenched her chin out of his hold and sat up, pulling the sheets along with her. “I had a man telling me he loved me too and wanted to marry me. He found someone else more appealing and broke my heart. I need you to be certain. You–you can have any woman you want, and I am not certain why you chose me.

You are also high profile, so if you were to change your mind–”She broke off when he swore viciously and swung his legs off the bed. Reaching for the robe he had found in the closet, he walked over to the window and noticed, to his surprise, that it had started raining.

“Richard, please understand where I am coming from.

Her soft voice crying out to him had him turning to face her. “I understand that you are still holding on to the past. I understand that you are afraid to trust me because of what happened to you.”

His mouth twisted bitterly. “I also understand that I am being unfairly judged by another man. I keep my promises, Collette. This is the first and only time I have ever proposed to a woman.

I thought I was a bachelor and would be for the rest of my life. I never believed in the institution of marriage. My parents’ marriage was a disaster, and my mother has been married five times already, so I told myself that I do not need all that drama.”

His eyes glittered. “Until I met you," he laughed harshly. “The joke is on me, isn’t it? I am almost middle-aged, and here I am, experiencing love for the first time. And with a woman with enough baggage to fill a damn carousel.” He regretted the last part of his speech when he saw the wounded expression on her lovely face.

“I apologize," he said wearily, running restless fingers through his tousled hair. “I am not thinking straight. Or being reasonable.”

She let go of her death grip on the blankets, her expression pleading. “I never experienced anything like this before,” she confessed. “Never knew love making could be so–”She searched for an appropriate adjective and could not come up with anything that could adequately describe what he made her feel.

Her insides were still quivering; the imprint of his mouth, his fingers, and his entire body were still on her. His cologne seeped into her skin permanently, and she was afraid that what she felt for Trevor paled in comparison to what he made her feel.

Richard McBride had swept her off her feet in just a few short weeks. And he was out of her league; she knew that very well. As soon as they were made public, the press would be on them, asking for a sound byte.

She would be inundated with reporters wanting to get a scoop on their relationship. She was not used to the spotlight like he was. And then there would be the digging into her past.

It was natural for the public to want to find out about the woman who had managed to “change Richard McBride’s mind.”

They would be curious about her and end up finding out the sordid details of her aborted wedding. Her sister and Trevor would become involved in the entire scene. It had the makings of a salacious story. Two people in their forties getting together in this fashion.

“Collette?” He was staring at her with a frown.

“I need time,” she told him huskily.

His expression hardened; his face expressionless. “If you insist.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “We should be getting ready. We leave in half an hour.”

Collette wanted to call out to him as he left the room. She wanted the reassurance of his arms around her, convincing her that he would never break her heart. She had hurt him, and she hated herself for doing that. But she couldn’t afford to be hurt again. Never again.

Biting her lip, she got off the bed and went to take a shower. He did not come into the bathroom with her, not like he did before, and she felt bereft. When she came out of the shower, she noticed that every article of his clothing had disappeared.

Dressing swiftly so as not to be late, she packed her bag and met him downstairs. He had his back to her and was staring out the window. Not sure if she should say anything, she just stood there inside the doorway and watched him.

Her eyes wandered over the broad shoulders tapering to the narrow waist and the way he filled out his jeans. His legs were long, and she knew from experience that they were muscular and strong. His hair was immaculately groomed.

He turned then, hooded green eyes taking in her form. She was wearing a russet-colored sweater over her jeans and knee-high boots. She had pinned back her hair at the back of her neck and was wearing lip gloss, only.

“Ready?” His voice was cool and polite and reminded her of when she first met him.

She found herself longing to hear the Richard she had come to know in the last few days.

“Yes.”

“Good, the pilot is here.”

Taking her case, he went toward the door and opened it to let her precede him. She sat in miserable silence as they made the journey back home. He had not said a word to her the entire time, not even when they left the plane and were driving from the hangar.

His face was hard and uncompromising, his sensuous lips tight. She was so mired down in her misery that it was only when they pulled up at her gate, she noticed that he was dropping her off.

Pride prevented her from asking him why, and when she alighted the vehicle, she refused to allow him to see how hurt she was. He walked her to the door and waited until she had unlocked it before handing her the case.

“When you are ready to let go of the past, give me a call.” Without waiting for her response, he turned and bounded down the steps.

She waited until she was inside and had locked the door before allowing the tears to fall.

*****

His mood was mercurial. All the way home, he had to quell the urge not to go back and demand that she marry him.

But he had his pride and all of this, the love overflowing in his heart, the intense passion, the strange need to cradle her and protect her from everything and everyone. All of it was new to him and he had gone against everything he had believed in.

In less than a month, he had fallen head over heels in love for the first time in his life and had proposed like a lovesick teenager.

Pulling into the parking lot of his building, he sat behind the wheel, glowering at the foreboding weather. She had spoiled sleeping alone for him. He had made love to her countless times over the weekend, but his body was still yearning for hers.

He could taste her on his lips, still feel her tightness wrapped around him. “Christ! You are a damn fool,” he muttered. If she had said yes to his proposal, he would have whisked her off to Vegas and tied the knot. But he was burning with anger that she had rejected him.

He was taking it personally, dammit, it was personal. And he was pissed that she was allowing her past to get between them. Shoving the car door open, he stepped out and strode toward the entrance of his loft.

*****

Collette felt as if she was existing in a vacuum. Her body felt sluggish. She had cried until she was weak and disoriented. And she was miserable. It took her half an hour to make her way into her bedroom, her feet dragging on the steps.

Dropping the case in the middle of the room, she sat on the sofa and tugged off her boots. Everything she was wearing was from him, even her underwear. He had thought of everything.

Richard McBride had marched into her life and upended it. She had been going on about her business, telling herself that she was healed, and then he came along. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

And now, because of her indecision, her fear of commitment, she might just lose him. Why would a man like him, a man who was powerful and wealthy, a mover and shaker, a very attractive and virile man, why would he want to wait until she was over her past?

He had said he loved her and assured her that she was the first woman he had ever proposed to, the only woman he had ever been in love with. Why couldn’t she believe him and say yes?

Because she had been fooled before and had trusted her heart. Trevor had seemed so genuine; she had thought she was happy; she had been happy, excited about planning her wedding. And he had shown no indication that he wanted out.

He had been loving, and supportive and she had been fooled.

Afterward, she had questioned herself, her ability to read the signs, to notice that he had been pulling away from her. She had refused to admit that his interest had been waning, that she was the only one who was enthusiastic, the only one who was going all out with the invitations, the venue, the floral arrangements, and even the cakes tasting.

She had accepted his excuses when he told her he had to work late almost every night and squelched her suspicion when her sister made snide remarks about her eagerness.

She had ignored the signs, and it had been disastrous. Leaning back against the cushions, she closed her eyes. With Richard it would be even more tangible, even more visible. Because of who he was. Their lives would be fodder for every kind of gossip.

And that was what was mostly bothering her.

She found it difficult to believe that he could love someone like her.

The therapist had warned her about low self-esteem.

“You have spent most of your childhood being the second-best daughter. Your parents favored your younger sister, and you convinced yourself that you were okay with that. But deep down, you weren’t.

I suspect that you also convinced yourself that you were in love with Trevor when all you were doing was trying to find someone who loved you first.

You are going to have to try and love yourself first, tell yourself, keep repeating it, that you are worthy of love. Whenever you come to that realization, you will be on your way to being healed.”

Tears leaked from her eyes.

She could not convince herself that Richard McBride could love someone like her. That he would want to marry her. She was afraid that if she allowed herself to believe it, the time would come when he realized that she was gauche and inexperienced and completely out of his league, that he had made a mistake and that would destroy her.

But she had fallen in love with him. She had tried to convince herself that it was just the mind-blowing sex, but she loved him. He drew her out of her shell and made it easy for her to talk about her past. She mellowed beneath his melting gaze.

His touch sent her into a dizzy spin, and she was taken aback by his lovemaking. The way he made love to her completely.

Could she be pregnant? She wondered wistfully, her hands cradling her flat stomach. She had stopped hoping. After she had miscarried, she had resigned herself to being all alone. And she had gone off the pills. After Trevor, her romantic escapades had been uninteresting and lackluster. But Richard had changed that in the space of a week.

And he had not used anything. He had not even asked if she was on any form of protection.

If she was, in fact, carrying his baby, would that be something she wanted? She did not dare to hope. She was in her forties, and she was aware that the older a woman gets, the more dangerous it was to conceive. A baby? Oh, could God be giving her a second chance? Did she dare hope that her life was coming together?

But what if he was even now changing his mind? She had told him that she needed time, and he had barely spoken to her.

They had spent an entire weekend feeling the incredible bloom of his lovemaking and now she was alone in her room, yearning for a man she had just met. She had messed things up, and she knew instinctively that he was a man who did not give his affection lightly.

Biting down on her lips, she made a decision. Shoving out of the sofa, she hurried to get her phone out of her purse and sat on the edge of the bed as she contemplated what she was about to do.

Before she could change her mind, she scrolled to his number and waited with bated breath for him to answer.

“Collette?” His deep voice sent piercing heat throughout her body.

“You said I should call when I am willing to put my past behind me.”

He remained silent for a few seconds. “And?”

“And- and I– I want to–”She took a deep breath. “Richard, I need you. I don’t know how to go about doing a relationship, but–”She took another breath. “Could you come over? Or I could come to you,” she rushed to add.

“I am on my way.”

She sank back against the cushions and took several deep breaths. Suddenly, realizing that he should be here in half an hour galvanized her into action. She was a mess, and she was certain her eyes were puffy from crying. Shoving off the sofa, she rushed into the bathroom and took a quick shower.

Rummaging through her drawers, she selected a thin black silk robe that came halfway to her thighs and slipped it on without putting on any underwear. Tying the sash around her narrow waist, she sat at the vanity mirror and brushed her hair until it shone, leaving it loose around her shoulders.

The robe sagged at the front, revealing glimpses of her generous breasts, and she could see her nipples printed against the thin material.

Taking a deep breath, she left the room and headed downstairs to wait for his arrival.