Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire (18 page)

He stepped back for a moment, and Lia sighed in relief, but then he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto the back of the sofa. He loosened his tie, released his cufflinks, and shoved them in his trouser pocket, rolling up his shirtsleeves over strong, tanned forearms. Lia watched, unable to move. Luc came back to her, studied her for a moment, and placed a hand palm-down on the wall on either side of her.

“You know,” he whispered, bending in close so she could feel his warm breath against her cheek, “some women get a kick out of being with a man like me.”

“A man like you?” Lia asked weakly.

“An ex-con. A man they perceive as…dangerous.” He paused, his body bending even closer so she could smell the whiskey he had drunk mingled with the sharp exotic scent of his aftershave. “A killer.”

Lia flinched at the word. She pushed against him, and he gave easily. He straightened and stared down at her with hooded eyes. “No? The idea doesn’t turn you on?”

He turned away from her, walked over to where he had left his glass, and took a sip. Lia couldn’t seem to move. Her legs trembled. She was convinced that he had been going to kiss her and couldn’t believe how much she craved it. Even saying those awful things, she still wanted him.

“This is your chance to run away, Lia.”

She shook her head. “Why do you want to find my father?”

Luc laughed softly. “Now who’s trying to change the subject?”

“Why?”

Luc came back to her, moving with predatory grace, and she forced herself not to shift. His eyes did a leisurely perusal of her body, lingering on the push of her small breasts, the slender curve of her hips and waist. It felt almost like a caress, and her nipples responded, tightening, thrusting against the silk of her dress. He smiled, a smile not reflected in the bleakness of his cold green eyes.

“We agreed to forget your father tonight, remember,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke a long, elegant finger down the bodice. “Why don’t we just kiss and make up, huh?”

She shuddered under the caress and tried to concentrate. “Now it’s you trying to change the subject. You don’t want me—you just don’t want to answer my questions.”

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Lia, my darling, I’ve wanted you almost from the moment I saw you. And having you didn’t lessen that at all.” He contemplated her for a long moment. Lia thought she was going to scream as the tension rose between them.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he finally asked. Picking up her hand from where it hung limply at her side, he brought it toward him, pushing it against the front of his body, dragging it slowly down until Lia could feel the hardness of him pressed against the softness of his pants. Her fingers closed around him almost reflexively, and he groaned. She glanced involuntarily up at his face; his eyes were closed, the skin taut over his cheekbones, his mouth a savage slash.

He released his grip of her hand and moved toward her. Lia’s back was to the wall, and she could feel the scratchiness of the paper against her bare skin.

His face came closer. She knew he was going to kiss her, and allowed it to happen. She was expecting him to be harsh, but the kiss was surprisingly tender against her closed lips.

“Open for me,
cara mia
,” he said and then gently forced her lips apart and slipped into the moist heat of her mouth so she could taste the whiskey against her tongue. His every move was slow, controlled, orchestrated. His mouth on her own, his hands coming up between them, sliding over the silk that covered her sensitive breasts, pausing on her erect nipples then rubbing the tips so softly, over and over, until her knees went weak, and moist heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs. She thrust her hips forward, feeling the hard length of his erection against her belly, rubbed against him, pushing at his hands, desperate to increase the pressure. His mouth pulled back slightly, and he laughed softly.

“You are so responsive,
cara
.”

Lia knew there was something not right. He seemed so detached, but she couldn’t bring her body under control. She wanted this too much, realized she had been wanting it for days. His hand slid down between their bodies, his palm cupping between her thighs, bunching the material of her dress until she felt the warmth of his hand against her bare skin. She went instantly still like a trapped animal, her heart beating inside her chest, echoing the throbbing between her thighs. His finger slipped beneath the lace of her panties, flexed against her, stroking her, and she writhed against him.

He held her still with the weight of his body against her, and she felt herself reaching for that release she knew he could give her.
Almost there
. But then he removed his hand and pushed himself away. She reached for him, and he took a step back. He appeared unmoved, staring down at her.

“No,” he said in a soft, silky voice. “I find that after all I don’t care to do this.”

Lia stared at him, her mind blank. “Why?” she asked eventually when her brain slowly started to function again.

“You want it, Lia, but you don’t want me. I’m not good enough. You can’t bring yourself to trust me, and I find that under those circumstances I would rather pass on what you are so generously offering.”

He picked up his jacket, stuffed his tie into his pocket, and left the room without looking back.

Lia waited until she heard the soft click of the door shutting behind him, then relaxed the rigid control on her body. Her legs buckled, and she slid to the floor. Hugging her knees to her chest, she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She had been so convinced she was in the right. Why did she now feel as though she had done something bad, as though she had hurt Luc? Why did she have an almost overwhelming urge to run after him and apologize?

Her body ached for him. Was this how her mother had felt for her father, knowing it was wrong, but wanting it desperately? Craving his touch even after he had deliberately humiliated her?

She didn’t want to feel like this for a man, but most of all for one who she knew virtually nothing about, or nothing good anyway. A man who had been willing to blackmail her to get what he wanted. A man who wouldn’t deny he had killed another, but refused to tell her the circumstances. She had to get out before she got in any deeper, before she got to the point where she would be willing to do anything just to keep him close for a while longer.

Somehow, she had to convince him to let her go.

…

Luc didn’t go back to the party; he didn’t trust himself to behave in a civilized manner right now. Instead, he headed out into the warm night. The anger had drained from him as soon as he’d walked away, leaving him cold, empty, and curiously guilty.

Shit, he was a bastard.

He’d overreacted, and his only excuse was that Lia had hurt him. The emotion had taken him by surprise and he had responded instinctively, wanting to hurt her back, maybe even needing to know he had the power to hurt her in return.

He slammed his fist into the wall and winced. Since Serena’s betrayal all those years ago, he hadn’t let anyone close enough to hurt him. This was Serena all over again, the past repeating itself. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that in reality the two scenarios were wildly different. Serena had had no reason not to trust him. Lia had every reason.

His relationship with Lia was so fragile, built on lies and the betrayals of the past. How could she be expected to trust him? Trust had to be earned.

He wanted to go back to apologize, but he’d never been very good at apologies. And he had a feeling that right now Lia wouldn’t be pleased to see him.

No, for tonight, he would go drown his sorrows. Then he needed to do some serious thinking and maybe even work himself up to that apology.

Right now, Luc only knew that she wanted him. If he ever got the notion that her feelings might go beyond mere lust, she was sure he would have no compunction about using that against her as well. The thought had brought her up short; she knew her feelings had started to deepen. That day with her brother. And then the night at the party, before it all went wrong, she had seen another Luc, one she could easily care for. It wasn’t going to happen, not if she could help it. Lia hardened herself.

“Did you hear me? I said I want to talk to you.”

He opened his eyes. “Really,” he said, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “I somehow got the impression you’d never want to talk to me again.”

“Hoped I wouldn’t, you mean.”

“I thought we had pretty much covered all the bases with our last conversation. I don’t believe I have anything further to add. Except”—he took a deep breath—“that I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re only saying that because you’re ashamed.”

His gaze drifted over her. “Ashamed?” He pursed his lips. “Maybe. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ve had a hell of a two days.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“I’ve had a hard-on the whole time. Damn thing won’t budge. Want to help?” Lia gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “No, I guess not,” he said.

Lia hadn’t meant to bring up the subject, had decided that the whole episode was better off forgotten, but now she found she couldn’t leave it alone. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Just which ‘that’ are we talking about?”

She stared at him, and he smiled. “You mean, get you all excited and then walk away.” He watched her pensively, as though she were some insect under a microscope. “You’re right,” he said finally. “I shouldn’t have.”

Lia felt a wave of disbelief. “What?”

“No, in retrospect, I should have taken you against that wall and made love to you until neither of us could stand, then taken you on the carpet and anywhere else available.” He studied her through heavy lidded eyes, and Lia’s traitorous heartbeat increased, her whole body coming to life. “Perhaps we could rectify that,” he said quietly.

It took her a moment to understand him. “Go to hell!” she said but even to her ears it sounded ineffectual.

Luc laughed softly. “I probably will,” he said. “Now, if it’s not concerning the fulfillment of every one of my sexual fantasies from the last two days, what could we possibly have to talk about?”

“I want you to let me go.”

“Let you go where?”

“You know what I mean. I want to go back to my home and my job. I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

“Really, and I thought we were having so much fun.”

Lia glared. It was obvious he wasn’t taking her seriously. “I’m going anyway.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.”

“What? You mean those pictures? I don’t think you’ll do anything with them.”

“Maybe you
think
I won’t do anything, but you don’t
know
. Are you really willing to risk it? You made it pretty clear the other night that you don’t trust me.”

Suddenly, she felt angry with him. She stood up and stalked over to where he sat, coming to a halt out of reach, just in case.

“Why the hell would I trust you?” she snarled. “What have you ever done to gain my trust? You slept with me, then you blackmailed me into staying here. You want me to help you find my father, but you won’t tell me why. I find out you’ve been in prison, but you refuse to talk about it. You…” she paused then forced herself to go on, “…you make me want you, and then you walk away as if I don’t matter at all.” To her dismay, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Luc was staring at her with something unidentifiable in his eyes. He reached out a hand toward her, and she stepped back quickly.

“
Cara
,” he murmured, “don’t cry. I’m not worth it.”

“I know,” she snapped. “And I’m not crying over you. I just want to go home. Get on with my life.” She wiped her hand across her face and went back to her seat. She sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, put her head on her knee.