Modern Romance August 2019 Books 1-4. Heidi Rice

about something other than the past. The flood of desire was a welcome antidote to the pain which had resulted from his confession and had left him feeling as if someone had blasted him with an emotional blowtorch. And now he was empty and hurting inside. Did she sense that? Could she detect the hunger in his body which was demanding release? Was that why she walked over to where he was standing and wordlessly hooked her arms around his neck, pressing her face against his cheek and planting there a kiss so soft that it made his heart turn over with something nameless and unfamiliar? Something underpinned with danger, despite all its dark deliciousness.

      He wanted to push her away and compose himself but his need for her was stronger than his need for equilibrium and he pulled her into his arms and held her close. His heart pounded. So close. The faint scent of her sex was already redolent in the air and something inside him melted as instantly as ice hitting hot water. Their gazes clashed for the nanosecond it took before their lips fused and they shared the most passionate kiss he could ever remember. And when there was no breath left in his lungs, he reluctantly drew his head away, his eyes silently asking her a question and she answered it with a silent nod. This time she didn’t call a halt to what was happening as he laced his fingers in hers. Instead, she let him lead her to the master bedroom, where he pulled the navy-blue ribbon from her hair and all those unruly waves tumbled around her shoulders with fiery profusion.

      ‘Lucas?’ she said, and he heard the uncertainty in her voice—as if wanting him to define what was happening. But he couldn’t. Or rather, he wouldn’t. He would never lie about his feelings for her. This didn’t go deep. It was one level only. Simple physical need.

      ‘I want you,’ he said, very deliberately. ‘That’s all.’

      Tara sucked in a ragged breath, wondering if it could be enough. But it had to be enough, because nothing else was on offer. And surely she could be grown up enough to admit that she wanted him—unconditionally. Surely she wasn’t demanding words of love or commitment in order to enjoy sex with the father of her baby. Her mouth dried. Some people might say they’d already made progress in their relationship because he’d confided in her—something which had never happened before. He’d told her the awful truth about his upbringing—which made even her own seem less bad. Should she have filled him in on some of her own, awful personal history? She thought not. Not then and certainly not now when he seemed to need her very badly, and all she wanted was to bring a little comfort and joy into his life. Hers, too. Was that so wrong?

      ‘I want you, too,’ she said shakily.

      ‘But before we go any further, there’s one thing we need to get straight, which is that I’m not offering undying love, or certain commitment. I can’t put my hand on my heart and promise to be with you for the rest of my life, Tara,’ he emphasised harshly. ‘Because that’s not what I do. You know that.’

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t care.’

      She could see his throat constrict as he undid the buttons of her uniform before quickly dispensing with the T-shirt and jeans beneath. And when he began to tug impatiently at his silk shirt, she found herself fantasising about what their baby might look like when it was born. Would it be a boy? she wondered yearningly as he lifted her up and laid her down on the bed. A boy who would grow up to be like his father—charismatic and powerful but with a dark side which was hiding so much pain? Or would it be a redheaded little girl, destined to be swamped by her own insecurities?

      But her questions were forgotten as his naked body was revealed to her—all honed muscle and soft shadow and the subtle gleam of olive skin. His limbs were hair-roughened and his desire was achingly obvious and she should have been daunted but she wasn’t. She stared at him with longing as the bed dipped beneath his weight and when he took her in his arms again, his skin felt deliciously warm against hers. Was it the conversation they’d just had which suddenly made Tara feel less of a conquest and more of an equal? Which gave her the courage to explore his body in a way she would never have dared do before? Tentatively at first but with growing assurance, she stroked his skin, her fingertips running over washboard abs, down over the flat hardness of his stomach, to whisper shyly at the dark brush of hair beyond.

      ‘Tara?’ he said softly.

      ‘What?’

      ‘Don’t keep doing that.’

      ‘You don’t like it?’

      ‘I like it too much,’ he growled.

      ‘What...what shall I do instead?’

      He gave a soft laugh. ‘Part your thighs for me.’

      She lifted her head as she did exactly that, their gazes clashing as, very deliberately, he slipped his hand between her legs and began to finger the creamy-moist folds with a light touch which sent a wild shudder through her body.

      ‘L-Lucas,’ she breathed.

      ‘Shh... Don’t say a word. Just feel it. Feel what I’m doing to you. It’s good, isn’t it?’

      ‘Y-yes. It’s very good.’

      With delicate precision he strummed her where she was wet and aching, until she was writhing helplessly on the mattress and making unintelligible little gasps. Sensation speared at her with each feather-light touch as he propelled her towards some starry summit, so that she felt like an unexploded firework which was hurtling though the sky. And when the eruption came, he entered her at the same moment—so she could feel herself still clenching around his hardness as their bodies were intimately joined. It felt exquisitely erotic and unexpectedly emotional and as she looked up into the dark mask of his beautiful face, she touched her fingertips to his cheek.

      ‘Lucas,’ she said shakily, trying to bite back the soft words of affection which were hovering on her lips.

      He stilled as he searched her face. ‘It doesn’t hurt?’

      ‘No. It’s...it’s gorgeous.’

      ‘I’ve never done it without protection before,’ he husked. ‘Never.’

      She couldn’t respond to his appreciative murmur because her eager body was short-circuiting her addled brain, making rational thought impossible as a second orgasm swept her up on a breathless wave. In fact there was no time to address his question until afterwards, when he had choked out his own pleasure and she could feel the sticky trickle of his seed running down her thigh in a way which felt deliciously intimate. Her heart was pounding and her skin was suffused with satisfied heat, but she forced herself to turn over to face the Manhattan skyline outside the window as she tried to get her muddled thoughts into some kind of order.

      Because she could sense she was on the brink of something risky. Something which needed to be reined in and controlled. Yes, they’d just had the most amazing sex but in the middle of it hadn’t Lucas gloated about never having had unprotected sex before while she’d been getting all emotional about him? And that was the fundamental difference between them. He required sex and nothing more and so she needed to be vigilant about her emotions. To make sure she didn’t get sucked into a bubble of love and longing which would burst at the slightest provocation.

      ‘Tara,’ he said softly.

      His finger was tracing a delicate path between her buttocks and she felt herself quiver in response. ‘What?’ she questioned, as casually as possible.

      ‘I suspect what we’ve just done has made you change your mind about us being lovers.’

      His assurance was as unshakable as his arrogance and she wanted to tell him that, no, she hadn’t changed her mind at all. She wanted to declare that this had been another impetuous mistake which mustn’t be repeated. But she couldn’t keep running away from the consequences of her actions, could she? She couldn’t keep letting sex ‘happen’ and then act like a scared little girl afterwards.

      What she wanted was impossible. Like most people she wanted what she’d never had—in her case a secure home and a child raised within a loving family—despite all her proud protestations to the contrary. Lucas had offered none of these things and, having heard about his own