The Millionaire's Unexpected Proposal (Entangled Indulgence) (10 page)

“Since we’ve already consummated the marriage…” she began.

“We certainly did that,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “More than legally sufficient in my opinion.”

She couldn’t remember ever making love four times in one night before, and she knew she was blushing.

“Well, then, it’s not like we have to perform for anyone by spending every second together.”

Now it was Sam the lawyer looking at her. “You can accuse me of thinking like a lawyer,” he said, and she suppressed a smile, “but until JD is legally mine I’m not taking any chances on your former in-laws hiring someone to investigate our relationship. And since you’re not willing to have me establish paternity directly, I’m going to make damn sure no one has any reason to challenge the validity of this marriage.”

She’d come into this arrangement with only one thought in mind: shielding her son from the custody threat posed by the Winthrops. Sam was a long way from ever trusting her, but she was starting to think she could trust him to do what was best for JD. And whatever his motives, he’d turned their impromptu ceremony into a storybook wedding. So maybe putting all their futures in his hands—for now—wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I agree that you becoming JD’s legal father is the best plan.”

“Then don’t do anything to make people question whether this marriage is real. Including going down to the beach alone on your honeymoon.”

“Fine. I’ll just sit up here and watch you work. Is that what you want?” She raised her hands, gesturing, and felt the robe gap. She was naked underneath and reached to tighten the robe around her, and saw his eyes darken.

“No,” he said, “that’s not what I want at the moment.” Her pulse raced into overdrive as he reached out, grabbed the soft belt and used it to pull her forward, back into the suite. He undid the knot easily, and his eyes moved down as the robe gaped wider. Her heart was slamming against her chest as he took hold of the lapels of her robe with both hands, pushing it back over her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

It was wildly erotic, standing in front of him completely naked while he stood there, fully dressed, not touching, just looking at her with those darkly intense eyes. There were emotions swirling there, beneath the surface, that she couldn’t put a name to. The sunlight was streaming through the open French door, basking her in its golden rays, but it was the look in Sam’s eyes that made her skin heat.

When he reached for her his movements were shockingly fast. She felt herself spun around, her bottom pressed against the fabric of his jeans, her body molded against his as he lowered his head and used his mouth on the side of her neck. Strong arms held her in place as his hands closed over her breasts, tweaking and rubbing her nipples until she heard herself mewing in pleasure. She couldn’t control the sounds coming from her own lips any more than she could control the waves of anticipation and pleasure coursing through her entire body.

He used one hand to continue the delicious torment of her breasts, while the other hand shifted lower, the palm rotating over her curls at the vee of her legs creating a delicious friction, using his fingers to stroke her to a shockingly intense orgasm. She’d have sunk to the floor if he hadn’t held her up. Then she was braced with her hands against the closed glass door as she still gasped for breath.

He entered her from behind with a strong thrust, angling her perfectly so the base of his shaft rubbed against her sensitive nub with every powerful stroke. The hard muscles of his thighs slapped against her bottom as his hips controlled her, drove her in a fast rhythm with thrust after thrust.

It was crazy; she’d just had an orgasm and already she was coming again, stronger and harder than the first time.

The door right beside her was wide open. People were milling about below, walking to the beach, strolling through the garden. She didn’t care.

“Sam!”

“I want you, Camilla,” he said, his voice controlled but strained, his mouth close to her neck as she went over the peak and her senses shattered. “Just like this. Naked and trembling and screaming my name.”

Then she felt him tense, and he was the one who groaned, the one who shouted her name, as the last spasms went through her and she clenched around him, his hands still on her too-sensitive breasts, her body going limp against his.

He pulled out of her.

“Oh hell,” he said, and she turned around, holding on to his arm for support.

“What is it?” She was still half dazed.

He looked down, then met her eyes.

“I forgot a condom.”

“I’m on birth control pills, remember?” But even as she said it she knew that a part of him still thought she might be lying, trying to trap him with another pregnancy.

She stepped away from Sam, pushed his discarded clothing aside with her foot as she bent down to pick up her robe. She walked across the room, naked, as Sam watched her, his silence speaking louder that any words he might have said.

She’d only had sex with two men in the past five years. One of them died, breaking her heart. And the other one seemed determined not to trust her.

Camilla went into the bathroom, locked the door, and started to draw a long, hot bath.

Chapter Ten

Sam pushed aside a stack of papers and leaned back in his chair, swiveling to take in the panoramic view of Miami at dusk, the lights of the city just starting to glow. They’d been back from the Keys two weeks now, and it surprised him how quickly he’d settled into the routine of having not just a wife but a four-year-old child and a teenage girl living in his house.

He had to admit, Olivia had turned out to be a pleasant surprise. So far she hadn’t invited throngs of teenagers over, or raided his beer fridge, or shown up at the front door without her key at two o’clock in the morning. Or done any of those other outrageous things his acquaintances with teenage daughters were always moaning about. He frowned. In fact, she was almost too good. Whenever she wasn’t looking after JD, she was usually out on the terrace curled up with a book or in her room playing her guitar. He didn’t know a lot about the kind of music she played, but he had a feeling she was pretty damn good.

It just wasn’t healthy for a girl her age to be at home 24-7, so he’d suggested that she might want to come into the office with him a few days a week.

Her eyes had lit up. “You mean, like a job?”

“Yeah, like a job,” he’d told her.

“And you’d pay me?” she’d asked, staring at him with what could only be considered a calculating look.

He’d laughed and said of course he’d pay her, but if she needed money all she had to do was ask. He wondered, belatedly, if he should have been giving her some sort of allowance. But since he’d set up a separate account for Camilla he’d just assumed she was taking care of that sort of thing. He didn’t want to think she was stashing away whatever money he gave her for after the divorce, but he supposed it was possible.

But Olivia had flashed an indulgent smile at him and rolled her eyes in the exaggerated way only a teenager could perfect, and told him no, she didn’t
need
the money, but if you actually got paid for working it looked just so, so much better on college applications. And since she was planning to be an entertainment lawyer, having a summer job at a law firm when she was only fifteen was “absolutely insane,” which he took to mean it was a good thing.

She’d come in with him every day so far this week, and was already making herself invaluable to half a dozen legal assistants. And if her work involved more emergency runs to Starbucks than to the courthouse, well, at least she was soaking up the atmosphere of a busy law firm.

He reached back on the credenza and clicked on the digital frame he’d loaded with photos of the “honeymoon” so his staff would stop haranguing him for pictures of his oh-so-romantic elopement. He watched the photos rotate through the wedding shots, the candlelit dinner, the two of them on the beach, catching some air on the Jet Skis, Camilla laughing into the camera, eyes seeming to sparkle with happiness. Good. He nodded to himself, satisfied. Anyone who saw these pictures would be convinced he and Camilla were exactly what they seemed to be.

In fact, there times when he was almost convinced himself. He’d been late to work three times in the past week because Camilla had gotten up early and slipped into the shower with him. He closed his eyes for a moment. The first time he had been standing under the hot spray, the steam rising around him, dual showerheads streaming water onto his body. He’d sensed her before he felt her.

Then she’d slipped her arms around him, touching him, until he’d spun around and taken her in the heat and the wet and the steam, pressing her body against the tile wall. In those moments there were no lies, no secrets, no mistrust between them. It felt primitive. It felt…right.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as a photo of Camilla sipping champagne in her wedding dress faded into another of the two of them, hands joined, standing on the balcony looking out at the sunset. Sometimes it seemed like sex was the only thing in their lives that wasn’t as carefully staged as the wedding photographs. But there were those rare moments when she would look over at him in the middle of something mundane, like pouring a glass of orange juice or tossing her keys on the marble table by the door, and he could swear there was real affection in her smile. Moments like that made him want to have a real conversation with her—let his guard down like he had all those years ago in Las Vegas and share things that really mattered—instead of just exchanging superficial comments about their day, two polite strangers living in the same house.

And there was that time just last week, when he’d come home from the office much later than usual, planning to be up most of the night preparing for a difficult hearing, and realized he’d used the last of his favorite strong coffee just that morning…only to find a fresh bag of it sitting on the kitchen counter, and a note saying there was a plate of food in the warming drawer and he shouldn’t forget to eat. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken the time or trouble to anticipate his needs like that. Truthfully, no one ever had.

Maybe it was all an act. But what if it wasn’t?

“Hey.”

He jerked his head back and saw Olivia standing in the doorway to his office.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s all right.” He shrugged apologetically. “I was just…” Just what?

Olivia looked at him with what could only be described as glee. “No need to explain.” She walked over and hopped up on the corner of his desk and watched the photos dissolve one into the next. “You two look great together.”

“Well.” He shifted uncomfortably. Was it possible Olivia didn’t know their marriage was a sham? Or maybe she was just wishing for a happy ending. She’d certainly had enough sadness in her short life.

He pushed the thoughts aside.

“Olivia, what are you doing here? I asked my assistant to see that you got a ride home hours ago.”

“I know. I wanted to wait and ride home with you. Besides, I’ve been in the file room making copies of about five million trial exhibits and putting them in binders, and you know how you can lose track of time when you’re having so much fun.”

Was she serious? He gave her a look and she burst out laughing.

“All right, all right! I
hate
making copies and putting them in binders. But everybody has to start somewhere, right?”

“Come on,” Sam said, “let’s get out of here.” He felt a little guilty that he’d pretty much ignored her when he was the one who invited her to come into the office in the first place.

“You want to come to court with me next Thursday?” he said as they walked down the hallway toward the elevators. “It’s just a motion hearing, nothing terribly exciting, but—”

“Yes!” she screamed, jumping up and throwing her arms around him with such exuberance he almost lost his balance.

“Okay, then,” he said, setting her back down as the elevator doors opened. But he smiled all the way to the parking garage.

By the time they got back home and Olivia dashed up the stairs to figure out what she was going to wear when she went to court, Sam’s good mood had faded, replaced by a smoldering anger.

She was on the terrace when he poured himself a drink and stepped out through the French doors. It was what Olivia had told him in the car that had transformed his amused affection for his young sister-in-law to suppressed rage toward his wife.

Camilla started to get up from her chair when he stepped onto the terrace. The look he gave her wiped the smile right off her face.

“What’s the matter, Sam?” She took a quick look around him. “Is Olivia—”

“Olivia’s fine,” he snapped. “Though I’m surprised you’d think to ask.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Save the innocent looks, Camilla, because I’m not buying it.” He strode over to the railing and stared out onto the water for a few moments, then downed his drink and turned around to face her. He lowered his voice. He certainly didn’t want Olivia to overhear them. “Do you ever think of anyone except yourself?”

“If you don’t tell me what you’re talking about, I can’t answer whatever it is you think I’ve done.” She got up and walked slowly toward him, her words sounding calm and reasonable, but her eyes flashing with anger. “We’re not in a courtroom, Sam, but wouldn’t even a defendant get the chance to know what they’re accused of?”

“I mentioned on the way home that since Olivia seemed to be enjoying working at the office, she might want to continue to come by a few afternoons a week once school started.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“Sam —”

“That’s when she politely thanked me, but said that would be a little difficult
from her boarding school
in upstate New York, but she’d be really happy to do it during the holidays. When she’s home from the boarding school she’s attended for the past four years.”

“Sam, you don’t under—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly, Camilla.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “I know from personal experience just exactly what it means when a child is sent off to live at boarding school because no one wants him around. My mother found herself a rich new husband after my father deserted us. And she fell in very nicely with his plan to ship her young son off to boarding school so the two of them could enjoy their own time together.”

“Sam, I’m sorry. But it wasn’t like that with Olivia, if you’d just let me explain.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. It was worse.” He shook his head. “I knew you were an opportunist, Camilla,” he said, and watched the color drain from her face, “but I wouldn’t have believed even you would take a little girl who’d just lost her parents, who had by some miracle survived the accident that killed them both, and send her away from all that was left of the only family she’d ever known.”

“You idiot!” Camilla glanced toward the house and lowered her voice. “You don’t have a clue about anything. You must be a lousy lawyer if all you do is jump to conclusions when you know
nothing
about the facts.”

“An idiot? Yeah, I am an idiot. Because I was actually starting to think I’d been wrong about you. I know the facts, Camilla. Your own sister told me you sent her to boarding school. So this ‘idiot’ isn’t going to waste any time listening to your lies and justifications. You think it’s the first time I’ve come across a woman like you? Hell, I was raised by one. So I know you better than you think.”

She stood there, staring at him as if she were carved in stone, and said nothing. And he felt his heart freeze over completely. She’d probably ship JD off to a boarding kindergarten if such a thing existed. He was surprised she hadn’t already made a bid for a team of full-time nannies. The sooner he formally adopted his son and ejected Camilla from both their lives, the better.

He was even more angry because he’d felt himself softening toward her. There had been moments in the Keys when he’d actually been tempted to put aside everything she had done in the past and tell her they should try to build a real marriage, for JD’s sake if not their own. Times when he’d entertained the thought that the four of them—Camilla and JD and Olivia and him—could be a family. Times since they got back home when he’d kidded himself that something more than sex was growing between them. That they were somehow filling a need in each other that went beyond a simple physical release.

He spoke to her then as coldly as he’d ever addressed one of the defendants in his wrongful death cases.

“From now on you needn’t worry about me demanding that you sleep with me, Camilla. I have to have at least some respect for a woman I take into my bed. And I’m afraid that counts you out.”

Her cool voice followed him as he walked back into the house.

“That’s fine, Sam. Because this time, you’ve gone too far.”