Bought For The Frenchman's Pleasure Part 15

Silly flutters made her heart jump, and she furiously clamped them down. He was probably peeved that she'd walked out without saying goodbye, that was all.

When they got up to her apartment, which was at the top of the house, she realised that she'd never had a man in her flat before. Or at least not a lover. She felt self-conscious at the thought of him seeing her inner sanctum, and busied herself turning on lamps and going into the kitchen, opening and closing doors. She turned around to ask him what he'd prefer and he was right behind her, holding two bottles of beer.

'But how did you...?'

'One in each pocket. I know you don't like champagne, and I knew you'd want to celebrate today...'

Stupidly, Sorcha felt tears threaten. She reached up and pinched her nose, taking off her gla.s.ses on the pretext of cleaning them. Romain put the beers down and took her gla.s.ses out of her hands, tipping her face to his.

Her eyes were swimming, her throat working and her lips trembling. It was all he could to not to take them, touch his lips to hers...but now was not the time. Instead he pulled her into his chest and held her tight, rocking her as she wept and made his s.h.i.+rt wet.

After a while Sorcha pulled back, feeling silly. Two minutes in her apartment and she was weeping all over Romain like some hormonal teenager. She avoided his eyes, knowing she must have mascara everywhere. She rubbed at her cheeks and her eyes felt raw and puffy. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.'

'It's OK,' he said gently. 'You felt lonely. I know, because I've felt like that for a long time.'

She looked up at him warily and rubbed at her cheeks. 'You?'

He nodded and took her hands away, rubbing at her cheeks with his thumbs, his big hands around her jaw.

His voice was husky. 'I'm very proud of what you did today.'

'You are?' she said, knowing she must sound like some kind of parrot. She was completely bemused and confused as to why he was here, what he wanted.

He nodded and, taking the beers, led her out into the sitting room, making her sit down. He expertly flipped open the beer tops and shucked off his overcoat, sitting down beside her. His scent, his presence, overwhelmed her, and Sorcha took a big swig of beer just to try and counteract the shock.

'Why did you leave like that, Sorcha?' His eyes pinned her to the spot.

Feeling agitated, she stood up. Somewhere between the door and the kitchen she had kicked off her shoes. She hugged her arms around her and went to stand by the window. She firmed her inner resolve. 'Because I thought you'd prefer it like that.'

She couldn't help but recall how close she had been to turning around and going back. It had been at that moment, in the cab, on the way to the airport, that she had noticed the morning paper. A photo of her and Romain, leaked from G.o.d knew where had been splashed across the front page. Her in his arms on the beach on Inis Mor. And inside more pictures of him with ex-lovers, and the one of him dining with Solange Colbert. And a huge discussion about which woman was the new one in his life, and the pros and cons for each. It had been hideous. And it had made it very easy for Sorcha to keep going straight to the airport.

'And what gave you that impression?' He sat back, as at home as if he lived there, one arm across the back of the couch. Relaxed. Debonair. Disconcerting to her equilibrium.

Suddenly Sorcha felt angry at the way he'd swanned back into her life, threatening to turn it upside down all over again. She conveniently blocked out the fact that she'd only felt half alive for the past two weeks.

'Oh, I don't know, Romain! Maybe it's something to do with the fact that you have a reputation that would make Casanova blush...I mean, what did you want?' She threw her arms wide.

He stood and was immediately dangerous. 'You, Sorcha. I wanted you and I still want you. I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I would have thought, Well, she must do this with every lover. But I knew that I had been your first-so unless you're planning a lifetime of having s.e.x and walking away then maybe it's not something that came so easily.'

His words flayed her. This was it. This was where she had to protect herself. He was advancing, and she knew that if he so much as breathed near her she'd turn to mush. So she squared her shoulders and said cuttingly, 'Well, that's exactly it. You were my first lover, Romain, but I don't expect you to be my last. So if it's closure you're looking for, then this is it. I meant to leave you like that. I knew it was coming to an end. You obviously didn't.'

And somehow, as if invaded by some alien force, she kept going, the words spilling out in a stream of consciousness, all designed to protect herself. 'Was it because it happened to you? You had your heart broken by the person you entrusted your secrets to? So you felt bad for me-wanted to make sure I was all right? Well, I'm fine. You can see I'm fine. Now, please, if all you wanted was to salve your conscience I'll save you the bother, because I'm fine.'

Romain looked as if she had just slapped him in the face. His mouth compressed to a thin line of anger.

'You said "I'm fine" three times. I get the point. I'm not welcome.'

He picked up his coat and carefully, too carefully, put it over his arm.

Sorcha was already feeling the effects of her words on her body. An out-of-control shaking starting up in her legs.

Romain turned and walked to the door. Sorcha's vision blurred, and for a second she thought she'd faint.

He turned then and looked at her. Through her. He smiled, but it was harsh and didn't meet his eyes. 'Do you know the really funny thing? I've let history repeat itself. All these years I've been so careful to avoid getting emotionally involved...and within minutes of meeting you in New York, when I knew you were tempted to throw that champagne in my face, I was already more emotionally involved with you than I'd ever been with anyone in my life. When I woke up that morning two weeks ago and realised you had gone-left...the pain was indescribable. The only thing that gave me the courage to come here today was a misguided belief that I had seen something in your eyes that might lead me to believe...' He shook his head and opened the door.

Sorcha couldn't move she was in so much shock.

Before leaving he turned back one more time and smiled sadly. 'It would appear that I am destined to play the fool in love. For you, Sorcha, have my heart-whether you like it or not. Perhaps that's my punishment for judging you so cruelly-not once, but twice. I didn't lose my heart to Martine all those years ago. It took seeing her with you in the same room that night to realise that. All I lost was my head and my pride. But this...this is much worse, and I can see exactly why I protected myself for so long if not being loved brings this level of pain. Adieu, Sorcha, I hope you find happiness and love in your life.'

When he had gone, and the door had clicked quietly shut behind him, Sorcha's hands went to her mouth as she stifled a sob that wouldn't emerge. She was frozen. Couldn't move. She heard the main door slam. She heard a car door open. Close. And finally she was galvanised into action. She didn't think, she moved. Like lightning. Sprinting down the stairs, taking two at a time, until she got to the heavy front door. She was all fingers and thumbs opening it, but finally it sprang free.

The rain had arrived. It was las.h.i.+ng. She saw Romain's car pulling out of the parking s.p.a.ce, into the road, about to drive off.

'No!' she shouted, her voice hoa.r.s.e with emotion. 'Romain...come back...come back!'

He started to drive away, and Sorcha ran down the steps in her stockinged feet, heedless of the rain and the wet pavement. She had to hitch up her skirt in order to run after his car.

'Romain, wait! Wait!'

The car was driving away, too far, too fast, and she faltered, her steps slowing, a sob rising. It was too late. Already she was thinking of what she could do-where she could go to find him, track him down, Maud must know where he lived-and then she saw that the car had stopped, red brake lights on.

Almost hesitant to walk forward, in case he sped off again, Sorcha walked tentatively. When she saw that he wasn't going anywhere she sped up and ran the last few feet. She pulled open his door. She was saturated, hair plastered to her head, clothes stuck to her. Rain ran in rivulets down her face.

She was crying, big racking sobs, tears mingling with the rain on her face.

'You big idiot. Of course I love you. I love you so much I can't eat, sleep or think. The only reason I left that morning was because you gave me no indication that I meant anything to you except an a...a...affair. You said you just wanted a mistress...'

He stepped out of the car and she thumped him on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist so tight that she couldn't breathe and lifted her up, feet off the ground, head buried in her neck. She pressed kisses wherever she could find a spot, and when he could he pulled back and let her down gently. The rain coursed over them but they were oblivious. He grabbed her close again and drove his mouth down onto hers, taking and giving no quarter, pa.s.sionately demanding her promise again, and she gave it, stretching up, her whole body arching into his.

'G.o.d, Sorcha...' he breathed finally when he lifted his head, his breath coming harsh and swift. 'Don't ever do that to me again.'

She hit him again on the shoulder. 'Well, don't shut me out again.'

He smiled. 'Deal.'

And then he got down on one knee, still oblivious to the weather. Sorcha felt her heart about to burst from her chest.

Romain looked up, so heartrendingly tender that she caught her breath. 'I just got you a temporary ring for now...on the way over here. I didn't want to tempt fate by getting the real thing, and I know you'd probably like to choose it yourself anyway...'

Sorcha smiled and hiccupped as he took her hand.

'Will you please marry me and make me a sane man, before I go crazy with love for you?'

She nodded immediately. He held out a cheap silver Claddagh ring, and Sorcha thought she'd never seen anything more lovely. He slid it onto her finger and she looked at it. She held out her hand to him. It was shaking.

'It's on the wrong way.'

'What?'

'If we're...' she looked down at him shyly, 'In love the heart should be facing my heart, and even on this finger, some might consider us already married.'

He stood up and took the ring off her finger, carefully turning it round so that when he slid it on again the heart faced inwards.

'Then as of this moment and until we make it official, we are married. You have my heart...always.'

'As you have mine,' she promised, gazing up into his eyes, her hand tracing his jaw.

He bent his head again and kissed her, long and deeply, and it was only the honking of a horn that broke them apart. An irate taxi driver was waiting behind Romain's still running car, his head sticking out of the window.

'Would the two of you just get a room?'

Much later, as the moonlight broke through stormy clouds outside and bathed Sorcha's room with milky light, she held Romain's head to her breast and stroked his hair.

'You know...' he said musingly, as his hand ran up and down her arm.

'Hmm...' she said, too blissfully tired to make it a question.

'When I stopped the car that time, I hadn't seen you behind me. I stopped because I was determined to come back and make you see that you loved me, whether you liked it or not. It was killing me to think that I had been your first lover and yet you wanted to experience others, so I was going to come back and make love to you till you begged for mercy. Then you appeared at my door, soaking, like an avenging angel, telling me you loved me. I thought I was dreaming...'

'So you mean I went out there and ruined my tights and got soaking wet for nothing?'

He flipped up and hovered over her, his big body gleaming in the light, his eyes blazing into hers, telling her of his love.

'But it was fun drying off...no?'

She twined her hands around his neck, 'Oh, yes...that was definitely fun...'

They kissed long and luxuriously.

'You know, I want lots of children, with jet-black hair and blue eyes,' Romain said as he kissed his way down Sorcha's neck.

Joy surged through her.

'I think blue is a recessive gene to grey.'

'Not in our children,' Romain declared arrogantly.

Sorcha shook her head and smiled fondly. 'No, they wouldn't dare.'

He came over her then, imprisoning her body with his, making her very aware of his newly aroused state. Sorcha's hair rippled onto the pillow behind her like black silk. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were slumberous, like a cat's. Romain realised that this was the exact image he'd had in his head all those weeks ago in Dublin, the day she'd walked out of the restaurant. As confident as he had been then that he could make it come true, he hadn't counted on the journey it would take him on, or the wealth of experience this woman would bring into his life, enriching him emotionally beyond anything he could have ever dreamed. He felt love surge through him again. Strong and true.

He smoothed the back of his hand across one flushed cheek and smiled down into blue eyes darkened with pa.s.sion, burning with love.

Sorcha locked her arms behind his head, bringing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s up and into close contact with his chest. She looked serious. 'Romain...you do know I couldn't give two hoots about becoming a countess, or the chateau...or anything? All I care about is you...I love you...'

He sank into those blue depths. He'd truly found the one person in the world who loved him...who knew him completely. As he knew her.

'I know...' he said huskily.

'Good.' She smiled cheekily. 'Then hurry up and make love to me. I'm not getting any younger, and if you want lots of babies...'

'It would be my pleasure...for ever.'

And it was.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-1496-9.

BOUGHT FOR THE FRENCHMAN'S PLEASURE.

end.