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Chapter 63
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2022-01-13 05:25:35I was so angry with myself; I was a fool who fall for his trap again. I know he manipulated me to accept this ride—a two-year-old could have seen through his tactics—I maintained my tight-lipped, frigged silence until Preston had negotiated the congested traffic around the airport.
“I think you owe me an apology.”
“You do? For what exactly?” he said, and it seems I got his interest.
“You kissed me,” I said, annoyingly. I could not say it without blushing. I just hoped he was too busy avoiding some suicidal cyclists to notice.
Preston arched an eyebrow and flashed a quick wolfish
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Carrying The Conde's Heir Chapter 64
I squashed the flash of sympathy I felt for him. It might explain why, but it did not begin to excuse the way he had used me. “It is in the cards, though uncertain as yet. You sound surprise to me?” “I am.” Not as surprised as I had been when I had learned that the couple who had seemed a perfect match on every level were breaking up. Until the moment that the divorce had been announced, I had expected a dramatic reconciliation, but the Sancho divorce, like the break-up. Had been low key and bizarrely amicable based on what they called a mutual decision. But had that mutual, civilized, still-good-friend
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A small silence was filled inside the car after her unemotional explanation as I considered a situation that I had been thinking about a lot of late. “So, if he fired you, he would lose that power?” I asked. Beatrice nodded, turning her head in my direction as she agreed with this analysis. “Exactly.” It wasn’t until my gaze flickered her way and she saw my expression then she realized what I was discussing and, more importantly, with whom! I looked away and focused only on the street. But, in the corner of my eyes, I see how her eyes shot saucer-wide as she gave me a dismayed croak. ‘Had sh
Last Updated : 2022-01-15Carrying The Conde's Heir Chapter 66
I was drumming impatiently on the steering wheel, trying to suppress my anger. Beatrice noticed me. She keeps on glancing in my direction. The taut lines on my face are a clear sign that I wasn’t happy. The tension was waving at Beatrice, feeling it. “I hate driving in heavy traffic, too. You can’t wonder that road rage happens.” Her soft, contralto voice dragged me free of my dark reflections. I turned my head and felt something squeeze tight in my chest as I read the sympathy on her face and all my submerged protective instincts rose to the surface. “I do not feel rage towards the road.” Just every person who has ever hurt you. “But you still carry on work
Last Updated : 2022-01-16Carrying The Conde's Heir Chapter 67
I lagged a little behind as I follow Preston into the building. We had crossed the foyer and entered an elevator before my preoccupied brain made a fairly obvious leap. “This is not a restaurant.” I blurted out. As I speak the glass door closed with a silent swish and the elevator rose silently. I am not fond of heights, so I didn’t take the opportunity to look down into the greenly filled atrium down below. “Smart and beautiful.” He murmured. I just rolled my eyeballs. I need to look away from him and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Am I really beautiful? I had a classic English-rose beauty
Last Updated : 2022-01-18Carrying The Conde's Heir Chapter 68
I am not interested in him! My mind says, but my friend says differently. Jonathan arched a brow. “You have an interest in this guy, and you became judgmental, which isn’t like you.” “I’m not—” innately honest. I could not complete the sentence. “Well, Preston can be pretty judgmental himself.” And with an awful lot less cause! I recalled his lecture on the last occasion we had met, despite the fact that I had been the victim of an unwanted pass and he had treated me like some sort of tart. “Really? That sounds interesting.” “well, it wasn’t,”
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Preston’s I looked at her mouth and felt the desire in my veins burn hotter as I thought to myself that today would not be soon enough for me. I had always prided myself on my ability to keep my libido on a leash. There had only ever been one woman who had breached my defenses, and she was standing here now, standing here wanting me as much as I did to her, so I was damned if I was going to deprive myself of the unspoken invitation that glowed in her incredible amber eyes when she looked at me. A nerve clenched in my cheek as a mask of composure threatened to slip. The scorching sexual tension between us was stronger than anything I had ever experienced in my life—and she had to be feeli
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I was still hesitant to move and follow him, unable to shake the irrational conviction that by stepping over the threshold, I do believe that I’ll be committed to more than breakfast, which I wasn’t, but what if he thought…? What if he had more planned than breakfast? I had no doubt that he took sex as casually as he kissed. How was he to know I didn’t? All I knew was that I was here for breakfast, but who was to say he did? He might assume that I knew breakfast was some sort of code of sex. “We could do the restaurant option if you prefer. You did say you looked too much of a mess to be seen any
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Beatrice jumped, startled by the loud clatter that came from the kitchen area. Came from me. “Sorry I dropped it,” I said, putting the stainless implement I had just picked up off the floor into the dishwasher. A hard light of steely determination shone in my eyes as I began to whip the egg whites. It was my intention to drop the bowl so that Beatrice would stop smiling dreamily when she thought about her ex, that she even forgets that I even existed! “It’s okay, sorry. It seems I drifted off.” She said. Yeah, feel sorry that you forgot about me. What’s special about that man? He is just a m
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I squashed the flash of sympathy I felt for him. It might explain why, but it did not begin to excuse the way he had used me. “It is in the cards, though uncertain as yet. You sound surprise to me?” “I am.” Not as surprised as I had been when I had learned that the couple who had seemed a perfect match on every level were breaking up. Until the moment that the divorce had been announced, I had expected a dramatic reconciliation, but the Sancho divorce, like the break-up. Had been low key and bizarrely amicable based on what they called a mutual decision. But had that mutual, civilized, still-good-friend
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Preston’s I am not following this instinct that had taken an enormous chunk of my willpower, but the effort had faded into irrelevance beside the will power I had needed to tap into just to stop myself from taking Beatrice in my arms to comfort her. Just the sight of her standing there, white-faced and shaking, looking so vulnerable and fragile, had awoken every protective instinct I had and some new ones. While she had struggled not to cry, I had struggled to keep my distance. I hadn’t allowed myself to even touch her. I just couldn’t. if I had known it wouldn’t have stopped at comforting her. I
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My brows lifted. “What are you talking about now? Cheated…?” I asked irritably. “You are not making any sense.” Her face scrunched in an effort to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. She lifted her chin and blinked hard. “Well, so sorry,” she drawled, “if I’ve lost my edge of clinical objectively, but I’ve never been in this situation before.” “And you think I have?” “Yes, I get it. You don’t need to spell it out.” She had been slow, but the penny had finally dropped. She knew why I was acting this way. “You th
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“Was I drunk?” My simmering hostility in my manner as much as abrupt question made Beatrice blink numerous times. “What?” My eyes flashed. “Was I forcing myself on you? Por Dios, no, I was not!” “But, I never—” “So, at what point did I become a bad guy?” I demanded, cutting across her. “I never—” “The fact is, you were lucky enough that I was there, but you are too stubborn to admit it! You ar
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But having it spelled out to me by Brian was a different matter. “I will never tie my hair back again,” I declared, striving for ironic mockery and delivering instead something a lot closer to frenzied panic, possibly because of the husky addition of, “because I live to please you,” and that statement was uncomfortably close to the truth. “Are you going to tell me now what I’ve done to upset you?” The quiet words sent a fresh flash of anger through me. “Let me think…” I said, adopting a mystified expression as I pressed a finger to the suggestion of a cleft in my firm, rounded chin. “Could it be something to do with the fact I don’t much like being used? How do you think would I feel having my br
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Preston’s I had just filled the second champagne flute and was preparing to carry them into the bathroom with me when I heard the door open. I turned, glasses in hand, as Beatrice walked into the room, phone pressed to her ear. I noticed that she was not smiling. A man did not have to be particularly intuitive to see that Beatrice was not happy. I wondered what had occurred in the few minutes that we had been apart to account for her change of mood, but only in passing—my attention was focused on admiring how sinfully sexy she looked in a pink bra and a minuscule pair of matching silk sorts trimmed with lace. My throat was dry, my body hardened in lustful appreciation. I watched her advance. Each angry step makes her breast jiggle gently u
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If this is just a dream, I am going to stay dreaming. “I am quite hungry,” I admitted. A sweet smile plastered on my face. “I love watching you eat,” he said when I was allowing myself to be tempted by another piece of cheese. “You do it with such…relish.” “You mean I am greedy.” “So am I every time I look at you.” “I feel so guilty.” I saw the flash of annoyance cross his face and added quickly, “Not about the food or the sex, but it’s a weekday and I haven’t done a scrap of work. It&r
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My brows lifted. “What are you talking about now? Cheated…?” I asked irritably. “You are not making any sense.” Her face scrunched in an effort to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. She lifted her chin and blinked hard. “Well, so sorry,” she drawled, “if I’ve lost my edge of clinical objectively, but I’ve never been in this situation before.” “And you think I have?” “Yes, I get it. You don’t need to spell it out.” She had been slow, but the penny had finally dropped. She knew why I was acting this way. “You th
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His stare make me shiver and then I cried out loud when without a warning he pressed his face against my breast, my back arched as his tongue began to whip slowly across the peaks of my breasts, that still painfully sensitive from our recent intense lovemaking. When he loosed my hands to cup one quivering peak I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, pushing through the ebony strands still damp from our recent exertions to cradle his skull and hold him against me. My hands stayed in his hair when he lifted his head and grinned down at me. "Also there is no point trying to hide from me in a bed this small." The bed was vast but I let it pass. "I wasn't trying to hide," I protested. He arched an ironic brow, making my eyes slide guilty from his. "I was cold." "Cold?" Preston laid his hand possessively on the soft feminine curve
