Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, and one of the uniformed waitresses entered with a tray of coffee. She put it on one of the small tables and left the room. Luc poured the coffee, added cream and sugar, and handed the cup to Lia. She swallowed quickly, burning her lips, and put the cup down. She picked it up again, needing something to keep her occupied. She couldn’t believe how nervous she felt alone with him here, which was crazy when she had been living with him for nearly a week
“You look stunning in that dress,” he said.
“Well, that’s really all thanks to Maggie and her great taste. I would never have chosen it on my own.”
She took another swallow of coffee before putting the cup down, wishing in a way she hadn’t come in here with him. But she couldn’t deny she was fizzing with excitement; it stirred her blood like champagne running through her system.
“Do you know what I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you tonight?”
“Not really, but I’m guessing the same thing I’ve wanted.”
“Come here, Lia.”
She didn’t hesitate, just lifted her hand so he could take it in his own. His palm was cool. With a slight tug, he pulled her to her feet. She came to a stop mere inches from his body and looked up into his eyes. They were dark, half-closed, and he stared down at her while he reached out with his other hand and stroked his thumb along her lower lip. Prickles of sensation rippled out from his touch, and her heart started to race.
“Actually,” he said, “it’s not entirely true. I haven’t been wanting this since I saw you tonight. I’ve been wanting it every time I’ve seen you for the last week. Isn’t it about time you gave me what I want, cara?”
Releasing her hand, he cupped her face. Lia realized that she, too, had wanted this for so long. Reaching up, she slid her hands around his neck, pulling him down, standing on tiptoe so she could reach his mouth. The kiss was gentle at first, then his hands tightened around her and he kissed her hard. The feel of his lips was incredible. Lia opened her mouth beneath his almost instinctively, and his hot tongue slipped inside. Her body remembered the taste of him and reacted by moving closer, needing to feel him against her. One hard hand slid down from where it cradled her face, stroking over her throat, across her shoulder, to slip beneath the low silk back of the dress and settle against the bare skin inches above the curve of her bottom. For a moment, it lingered there, and then he pulled her toward him, deepening the kiss. She moved her hands to his broad shoulders, and she clung to him, pulling him closer.
He picked her up by the waist, held her tight against him, and backed toward the sofa with her still in his arms. Sinking down into the cushions, he dragged her onto his lap, his mouth never leaving hers, his tongue stroking her lips, the roof of her mouth, sliding erotically against her own, while his hands slid over the naked flesh of her back, then skimmed over her silk-covered breasts, leaving trails of fire. It wasn’t enough; she writhed against him, needing to get closer, and he laughed softly against her mouth. The sound brought her back to herself, and she pulled back slightly to stare at him. He reached out and stroked a finger around the neckline of her dress. It was so sinfully erotic, his dark, long fingers stroking her pale flesh. As she watched, he slipped one hand inside and cupped her small breast in his palm. Lia gasped as he stroked his thumb over the engorged nipple. The sensation was exquisite, and her head fell back against the cushions.
“I want to taste you here, cara,” he murmured, his thumb rasping across the peak. “I want to see if you taste as sweet as I remember.”
There was no way she was going to object. His other hand went to the back of her neck, where the halter of the dress fastened, and flicked open the button. Lia was incapable of moving as he peeled the material from her breasts.
A knock sounded at the door, and she jumped at the intrusive noise. Luc swore under his breath.
“Wait a moment,” he called out, and his tone was not one that was going to be disobeyed. He acted immediately, pulling up the bodice of her dress and refastening the catch. Lia was dazed as he lifted her from his lap and placed her on the sofa. He got to his feet, crossed the room, and opened the door slightly.
“Yes?”
Lia heard a murmured conversation, but she was beyond being able to take in the words. Glancing down at herself, she saw her nipples clearly visible under the thin silk, and she crossed her arms. She almost had her breathing back under control by the time Luc came back.
He stood, staring down at her a slightly rueful expression in his eyes. “Unfortunately, we need to return to the party. I have to give a speech.”
“Oh. What about?”
“I told you, this is for charity and most people here tonight have handed over a lot for their tickets. I need to tell them what that money will pay for. But we will continue our…conversation later.”
“We will?”
“Oh yes, Lia.”
A wave of heat washed over her at the words. Pushing herself onto unsteady legs, she peered down—her nipples were still pressed against the dress; she couldn’t go out there like this.
“I think I’ll just wait here for a minute,” she said.
When she looked back up, his gaze was intent on her breasts, lingering on the taut peaks pushing insistently against the material. She was sure he was going to kiss her again, and she almost swayed toward him. He shook his head as if to clear it, then he walked away.
At the door, he paused. “I’ll see you out there.”
Lia nodded, and he was gone. She stared at the closed door then sank back down onto the sofa behind her, her legs no longer capable of supporting her. Her head fell back against the cushions, and her hand almost without thought lightly touched the sensitive swell of her breasts. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine Luc’s hand where her own lay; she shivered at the sensation that rippled through her. He obviously meant for them to continue this later.
Chapter Twelve
Closing her eyes, Lia finally admitted to herself that she wanted him desperately. Oh, she had no illusions that this was going to have a happy ever after, and in some ways that thought comforted her. She didn’t believe in happy ever after, but should she deny herself this? After all, it wasn’t as if it was the first time. She wasn’t doing anything she hadn’t done already. Her mind was flooded with memories of that night, the feel of him on her, inside her. She shook herself; this was not doing any good. And she didn’t want to miss Luc’s speech—she’d never known anybody who gave speeches before.