The Millionaire's Unexpected Proposal (Entangled Indulgence) (15 page)

“Okay then.”

He finished his coffee and said he had to get ready for work since he was already late, and told Olivia a little too curtly that she better hurry up if she wanted a ride in with him. She just grinned back at him, apparently unaffected by his sudden mood swing.

As he sat at his desk later looking out over the Miami skyline, he allowed himself to wonder for a moment whether he might have a made a mistake assuming that Camilla was only playing the part of a doting mother to his son. He had to remind himself that the most important thing was making sure JD stayed here, in Miami, where he belonged and where Sam could personally guarantee he had a happy and secure future.

But now that JD and Olivia weren’t right there in front of him, he couldn’t stop his mind from taking off in other directions when he thought about Camilla and the breakfast. He had a few creative ideas about what he could do alone with his wife and the strawberry syrup. And that can of whipped cream. He imagined her wearing the white chef’s apron and nothing else. And then he’d untie the sash on the apron and take the bottle of strawberry syrup and slowly… Okay, time to get his mind back on his work. It was probably the residual effects of that dream he’d had last night about Camilla. God only knew what he’d start dreaming now that he had this fresh set of images in his mind.

Chapter Fifteen

The charity gala was one of the most noted Miami fund-raisers of the year. There was a red carpet entrance, with event photographers as well as the media taking shots of each couple as they arrived. Camilla smiled up at Sam, playing the devoted society wife in her glittering dress. He pulled her body closer to his on the dance floor, molding her to him, so close now that she could feel his heart beating. She knew her own heart was pounding.

They couldn’t go on like this, Camilla thought, as she glided across the dance floor in Sam’s arms. She fit in his arms as effortlessly as JD and Olivia had fit into his life. As effortlessly as
she
would fit into his life, if he would just see her for who she was. If she wanted to get past the stubborn walls Sam had erected and be a family, she would have to take matters into her own hands.

Ever since they got back from the theme park, he’d stopped pretending to fall asleep working late at night in the den. They slept in the same bed, not touching, not speaking. She closed her eyes at night and lay there for what seemed like forever, every nerve ending in her body acutely aware that he was just a few feet away as she listened to his even breathing and wondered if he was still awake, too.

She couldn’t take it any more. Living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed, treating each other like perfect strangers. If her plan worked, that would change tonight.

When they went back to their table, she sat nervously fingering the small clutch purse she’d brought with her. It was too small to hold her cell phone—she’d slipped that into Sam’s pocket—but it was big enough to hold what she needed. Sam nudged her and she looked up guiltily.

“I was asking if you’d like some more champagne.”

She nodded. Sam gestured, and the white-gloved waiter refilled her glass, then Sam’s.

Sam leaned back in his chair as the auction began, and Camilla watched as Miami’s most extravagant spenders bid on everything from fancy cars to romantic getaways.

She looked at him in surprise when he began bidding on an item. She was even more puzzled when she realized it was the Tahitian pearl necklace she’d been admiring in one of the displays earlier. Ten minutes later he fastened the elegant strand around her neck. He leaned over and kissed her as a photographer snapped their photo, and she felt her pulse get faster even as she wondered if it was all just for show.

“I really didn’t need a necklace that cost over $5,000,” she said quietly.

“These events aren’t about what you need, darling,” he said smoothly, “they’re about what pleases you.”

An older couple seated across the table smiled indulgently, and suddenly the image of herself and Sam growing old together formed in her mind with a poignancy that brought tears to her eyes.

Sam caught her chin, turned her face toward him, and his face was expressionless as he surely must have read what she could no longer conceal. She was in love with her husband. It was the way he’d looked sitting in the kitchen eating those silly alphabet pancakes—and the look of sheer incredulity on his face when she’d surprised him with eggs Benedict made from scratch a few days later—that had finally done her in. She wanted a lifetime of everyday moments like that, and she wanted them with him. She’d thought that if her plan failed tonight she could just walk away. Now she knew it wasn’t true. If he turned her away, she would swallow her pride and keep on trying until he finally saw the person she was inside.

He didn’t love her now, but she had months to make him see how happy they could be together.

“Do you want to leave?” Sam asked.

She nodded, still not trusting her voice. Sam knew so many people that it took about thirty minutes of mingling before they finally made their exit.

The limo pulled smoothly up to the curb. The driver opened the door and nodded almost imperceptibly to Camilla, signaling that everything was in place.

Then they were on their way, gliding smoothly through traffic. Sam tossed his tuxedo jacket casually on another seat, then raised his eyebrows when he saw the chilled champagne and two glasses. She glanced over at the control panel to make sure the intercom to the driver was turned to off.

“I don’t remember this being here when we got out of the limo.”

“I thought we’d take a drive out to beach.”

Sam looked out the window and noted the direction they were traveling.

“Should I take it that I’ve been shanghaied?” The corner of his mouth quirked in amusement. “What do you plan to do with me?”

Whatever words he was about to say next died on his lips when Camilla reached behind her and began unzipping her dress. She felt her hands tremble because it wasn’t only her body she was baring to him. It was her heart.

She peeled off the loosened dress, and was left with only her stiletto sandals and a tiny wisp of a black thong. And the string of pearls he’d bought her.

Her pulse quickened when he said, “If I’d known that was all you had on under that dress we’d have left a lot sooner.”

She knelt down in front of him, slipping in between his legs, felt her breasts tingle as they brushed against the fabric of his tuxedo pants. Nerves as much as arousal had made her nipples taut, and she felt a flush spread across her entire body as his eyes focused on her breasts. She reached around him, undid his cummerbund, then unhooked his pants, slid the zipper down slowly, and took him into her hand. He was already hard. His heart and mind may be wary, but his body would betray them. She used her mouth on him and could feel his restraint, coiled like a tight cord, begin to slip.

“Oh God, Camilla.” He leaned back in the seat and she felt him shudder. She grabbed the small purse, shook out its contents on the seat, and quickly ripped open a condom and unrolled it over the length of him. His narrowed eyes were still watching her. She still couldn’t read him, didn’t know what he was thinking, but he made no move to stop her as she slipped out of her thong and slid onto his lap, straddling him. She took him inside her, thinking,
Please, Sam, don’t push me away this time
.

She started moving, slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. She could see the passion stirring in his eyes, and a tenderness she dared to hope might be love. Then his hands were on her, and she wasn’t in control anymore. Her seduction had turned, suddenly, and it was Sam who was setting the pace. She felt her senses spinning out of control while those clever hands, that skilled mouth, ruled her, owned her. He pulled her hands up behind his head, and she grabbed on to some sort of handle on the limo roof to try to anchor herself in the storm of sensations sweeping through her. He adjusted her slightly and his strokes became faster, more powerful as his mouth left a blazing trail on her neck, her breasts. When he began flicking his tongue over her nipples she was almost undone by the delicious torment of it. He took her still higher.

“Camilla.” His voice was softer, and there was a note of tenderness that belied the controlled frenzy of his lovemaking. “You’re mine, Camilla.” It wasn’t a demand. It was almost like…a caress.

But she didn’t have time to think about it. His teeth nipped her lightly as his hands fisted in her hair and the next fast, powerful thrust shot her over the edge. She cried out then, heard herself sobbing his name as her hands slipped loose and she collapsed against him, her body shuddering, as the pleasure stretched out like a long, high-pitched chord that intensified until it seemed to defy time. She felt him tense and let himself go, and she screamed his name again and, in that moment, would have given him anything.

He threw his head back and groaned, his hand idly stroking her back and sending shivers through her as she lay against him, utterly spent.

You’re mine
, he had said. And she was, for as long as he wanted her. But what happened when he didn’t want her anymore? She’d gotten him to make love to her again. But wanting to make love to her and actually loving her were two very different things.

She knew that, at least on some level, Sam cared about her. He couldn’t have touched her with so much tenderness if he still looked at her and saw a lying, cheating opportunist. It was so clear to her now that they had a future beyond just securing JD’s place in their lives. Could he really continue to live in the same house with her, share the joys of raising their son together, and not realize she had good reasons for the difficult choices she had made? Reasons that had nothing to do with a fancy penthouse and a lavish lifestyle. Reasons that had everything to do with protecting someone she loved.

Camilla sighed, her cheek resting on his shoulder, breathing in the clean, male scent of his skin. She would do everything she could over the coming months to convince him to let go of the past and build a life with her. Because if she failed, walking away from him would be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

…

At some point Sam realized that the limo was no longer moving. He was slowly regaining his senses, and his wife was still draped over him, her naked body limp. He ran his hand lower down her back, indulged himself by stroking her tight little butt, and felt her shiver.

It was a hot night, but it was cool inside the limo and her body was coated with a thin sheen of perspiration. He grabbed his tuxedo jacket and draped it around her like a blanket, then slid both hands under and gently kneaded her bottom, enjoying the way she squirmed a bit under his hands. He was still inside her, and to his surprise, found himself going hard again already.

She arched her back and looked at him, her sleepy eyes widening as she realized he was about to take her again. He adjusted her on his lap long enough to deal with a fresh condom, then lowered her back in place. He moved slowly inside her, angling her to give her the most pleasure. He wanted her to come unraveled in his arms. He was nowhere near satisfying his appetite for her.

God, it had practically killed him, lying there in the same bed with her night after night, not allowing himself to touch her.

He’d denied himself the pleasure of her body when it became too difficult to separate the Camilla who schemed her way into a fortune from the warm and vulnerable woman she appeared to be since moving into his home. When he’d realized he was in danger of letting his guard down and opening up his heart.

Damned if there wasn’t something so appealingly innocent about her that made him want to just disregard all the evidence against her and never let her go. He felt a lessening in his resolve when she was in his arms, and it was either something to be avoided at all costs or the best thing that had ever happened to him. The real trick was to figure out which.

His wife was clutching his shoulders now, her fingers digging in as her eyes glazed over with arousal and she started moaning softly, her hips moving to match the slow tempo he’d set. He moved his hands in between them, and began lightly stroking the sensitive tips of her breasts. She was the most responsive woman he’d ever made love to, and he studied the expressions on her face, wanting to watch her this time as she went over the edge.

When she tried to quicken the pace, he slowed her, calmed her, held her in place and let the heat build between them like a slow tide, until she finally broke, cresting on waves of pleasure, clenching around him until he could no longer hold back. He dived into the darkness with her then and felt himself fall.

When his mind cleared enough to move his limbs again, Sam shifted Camilla off his lap. He lifted his jacket from around her shoulders, pulled her dress down over her head a bit awkwardly, and then zipped it up. He was much more accustomed to slipping a woman
out
of a fancy dress than back into one.

She murmured something and looked up at him languidly through half-closed eyes while he removed his shoes and socks, then slid the strappy sandals off Camilla’s feet. She had such pretty feet, with delicate arches, her nails polished the color of sea coral. He was surprised he’d never noticed before. He was beginning to think there might be a lot of things he hadn’t bothered to notice about Camilla. Then her sleepy eyes seemed to clear as she became aware again of her surroundings.

“Sam? What are you…?”

“Come on.” He pulled her out the car door onto the deserted beach, one hand gripping her wrist and the other holding the neck of the champagne bottle and the stems of two glasses. His jacket was tossed over his arm, and his shirt was still halfway unbuttoned, his tuxedo tie hanging loosely. He figured he looked like exactly what he was—a man who had just had mind-blowing sex in the back of a limo with the most beautiful woman at the party.

He pulled her forward and she stumbled after him, hurrying to catch up with his long stride. “Sam, I don’t have my shoes.”

“You’ll hardly need them, darling, to walk on the beach.”

The world “darling” had just slipped out, unbidden, and he found he was okay with that. This was Camilla as he liked her best. Rumpled from sex and a little disoriented from the pleasure they’d just shared. Vulnerable and open to him in ways she wasn’t when she had her guard in place. If this was the real Camilla, then he wasn’t certain he could ever let her go.

They stopped just above the wet sand line left from the receding tide, and he noticed for the first time that there was a full moon. The Atlantic was black, the waves churning and then breaking in a rush of water and foam that swept up the beach and then just as quickly slid away. He had the sudden urge to dive into it, plunge though the pounding waves, and swim against the current until he was too exhausted to deal with his conflicted thoughts about his wife. Camilla stared into the black depths as if she had read his mind, and gave a little shudder.

“Cold?”

“No.” She looked up at him then and brushed her now-wild hair away from her face, before turning back to the waves pounding onto the shore. “It makes me feel completely out of control sometimes.”