Power Play (The Billionaire's Club: New Orleans) (11 page)

It reminded her of when they were caught in a thunderstorm—electrifying, energizing, deluging. Gradually he quickened his pace, the deep strokes coming faster and faster as her body rocked for him and his sensual onslaught. With one hand about his waist, she thrust the other between their colliding bodies, spreading her fingers around him, her thumb rubbing her clit. He groaned in response, his movements wild, jerky, the precision strokes disintegrating into feral passion.

She tried to hold back, tried to delay her climax but she was too open, too needy, too
ready for him. The second orgasm struck like a lightning bolt, hot and powerful and blinding. She screamed, body rigid, pleasure short-circuiting her senses. Raphael’s eyes flared neon blue as he went wild, growling as he drove into her, taking her with an intensity that was almost brutal. He came with a shout, flooding her womb and wringing another smaller climax from her.

They collapsed against each other, unable to move, to do more than breathe. “It never was good-bye. It won’t ever be good-bye.”

“No,” she managed to say. “It’s perfect.”

“I have to go to Choux tomorrow, but not until mid-morning,” Macy said, settling back against a pile of pillows with a satisfied sigh. After a decadent interlude in Raphael’s oversized shower, they had headed downstairs to raid the kitchen. They’d made a picnic of fruits, deli cuts, and cheeses before returning the master suite, spreading their haul out atop the cerulean blue coverlet. “Do you think Parker will have my car here by then? I’ll need to go home for a change of clothes.”

“Knowing Parker, your car’s already outside,” Raphael told her, disposing of the scavenged tray on the mahogany dresser. “You can ride in with me, or Parker will come back for you. As for a change of clothes, I bought a few things for you and stored them in the closet. Lingerie, too.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You bought me clothes?”

At his nod, she jumped up and sprinted to the far end of the room and the walk-in closet that was the size of her living room and kitchen combined. One side held a swath of suits and dress shirts with racks of shoes and built-in drawers for more casual wear. In the middle sat two low-slung padded benches upholstered in ivory fabric shot through with gold, two gold-framed floor mirrors in front of them. The other side of the closet was just as full—with dresses, skirts, blouses, and trousers in her favorite colors, as well as shoes and purses and a couple of laptop bags in supple leather. She pulled open a set of drawers that matched the ones on his side and found piles of lingerie. It was all brand-new, tags still attached—and all in her size.

“Raffie! This isn’t just a few things!” she exclaimed, touched. “How did you know my
size?”

He grinned at her from the bed. “I asked Renata to peek for me. I hope she didn’t spill the beans to Sebastian. Dude’s got enough on me as it is.”

She owed Renata, she just wasn’t sure what. “I still don’t believe it,” she said, surveying the wet dream of a closet. “When did you have time to do this?”

“When it comes to you, I make the time.”

“Buying an entire wardrobe for me is more than a little something, but I know better than to say no.” She returned to the bed. “But I have to say, that was a pretty ballsy move. Unless you do this for all the girls.”

His smile slipped away. “You know I wasn’t a monk when I was without you,” he said, his voice and expression grave as he sat up, the bright white Egyptian cotton sheets pooling at his waist, contrasting with the smooth muscular expanse of his tanned skin. “The women I slept with were all about the glamorous lifestyle, the travel, the attention, and yes, the trinkets I could give them. I didn’t put thought into what they’d like. I didn’t know their favorite colors. And it didn’t matter if they liked their baubles or not. Everything I do for you matters. What you think, how you react, matters. Everything about you matters. It’s always mattered.”

She sat beside him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “I believe you, and I’m sorry for saying that. But what would you have done if we hadn’t gotten together?”

“Convinced you,” he answered. “I was prepared to do whatever it took to have you back in my life.”

“You’ve got me now,” she dared to say. “I hope you realize you’re stuck with me.”

“I hope so.” Caution filled his eyes. “It’s not going to be easy, being with me.”

“You mean unless I let you have your way all the time?”

“No.” His brilliant blue eyes darkened with concern. “We’ve probably got a week before news of us dating hits the media. You’ve seen what happened with Bas and Renata.”

Oh yes, she’d seen the frenzy all right. The only peace Renata had was in one of Macy’s restaurants or at home. She couldn’t go anywhere without security. “Come on, Raffie. All the attention Renata’s gotten is because she’s a champion boxer who just won a title in Vegas. Her marriage to Sebastian just added to the craze. They made a good story—lovers finally reunited.”

“And so are we.” He took her hand. “I haven’t been shy about my personal life before, so they won’t expect me to be now. It won’t take too much trouble for them to spin a tale of high school sweethearts reuniting. Somebody might even unearth our prom pictures.”

“Oh God.” She covered her face with her hands. “I had clown hair in high school!”

“You were beautiful, Macy,” he said seriously. “I’ll do everything in my power to insulate you from the majority of the craziness, but you need to be prepared. You need to decide if it’s too much for you.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Is that why you want me to ride in with you instead of driving myself?”

He nodded. “I’m going to assign Parker to you. He’s been with me for years, and I trust him implicitly. He’s saved my neck a few times.”

Tightness seized her chest. “Have you been in danger?”

“Macy.” He pulled her close. “I’ve had my share of stalkers. There were a few attempted kidnappings, but that’s why we have security teams. I’m sure Sebastian assigned people to Renata as soon as she moved in with him. I’ve had someone on you since last week. Don’t argue. I was planning to introduce you to them officially tomorrow, but since you and Parker seemed to hit it off so well, I’ll worry less if you’re with him.”

She tried to wrap her mind around everything he told her. One part of her was thrilled that he wanted them to be together, that he already considered them a couple despite the rough patch they’d hit. The other part wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with even half the hassle that Renata had endured so far. “So this is for your peace of mind?”

“Absolutely. You’re on my mind all the time as it is. I would rather those be pleasant thoughts instead of worrying about what could happen to you because I didn’t see to your protection. There’s the added bonus that a security detail can run interference with any media.”

“Do you think they’ll try to dig into my past?” she asked, twirling the sash to her robe around her fingers. “Into my time in Paris?”

“They shouldn’t. If we act like there’s nothing to hide, they won’t have a reason to go digging. We can have DJD’s public relations team issue a press release on our behalf. Is there anything other than the … pregnancy that I should know about your time there?”

“No.” They hadn’t talked about his reaction to the miscarriage. She wanted to ask him if he was still angry with her. She wanted to know if he had forgiven her. She wanted to know, but was too afraid to ask.

“Good.” He gave her a quick kiss. “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Deflated, she pulled off her robe, then slipped beneath the covers, seeking the warmth of Raphael’s large body. He switched off the light on his nightstand, pulled her close, then turned her so that he spooned her, one large hand splayed across her abdomen.

This was the first time she’d attempted to sleep beside Raphael in nearly a decade. The rightness of it almost brought tears to her eyes. It was as if time had never passed, they’d never been apart and she’d been sure of his need for her. Time had passed though, and they had been apart. During that time, she’d changed. He had to have changed, too.

“Would you have kept it?”

His soft question startled her out of her anxiety-ridden restlessness. “What?”

“Our baby.” He stopped stroking her belly and tensed behind her. “Would you have kept it, even though it was mine?”

She could hear the pain in his voice, pain he tried not to reveal, and it slashed her deep. She’d been with him through the worst moments of his life. Now, she was bound and determined to be there for the best moments. To do for him what he’d done for her.

She sat up, pushed him onto his back, then turned the light on. He’d blanked his expression into careful neutrality. He sucked in a deep breath as she straddled him, tension filling his body, but he otherwise remained silent. She gazed down at him, wordlessly pleading with him to trust her, to put himself into her care as she’d done for him. For a long electric moment, he just stared up at her. Then he smiled a smile that smoothed the jagged edges of her emotions and encouraged her to continue.

She reached down, gathered his hands in hers. Curling her fingers around his, she brought his hands to her cheeks, then slid them down her throat to her chest, her rib cage, then stopped when his hands rested on her belly. “I’d asked you if you were still upset about that, but you said it wasn’t in the way I thought. But you are upset, aren’t you?”

“Macy …” His voice was low with warning.

Leaning forward, she wrapped her fingers around his wrists, her hair a fiery curtain framing their faces. “Are you upset that you didn’t know about the pregnancy or upset about the miscarriage? Or are you upset that I didn’t tell you, that you wouldn’t have known if we hadn’t run into each other?”

“Upset?” A low laugh vibrated through him. “Babe, I am way past upset. I am one
hundred percent completely pissed off. About all of it.”

Her heart sank. “Of course you are. You have every right to be.” She moved to slide off him.

He raised his hips in a sharp gesture, pitching her forward, their lips a breath apart. “Pissed at myself, Macy, not at you. I thought quitting you cold turkey was the only way to let you go. I cut you off and left you to suffer alone, and that’s why I’m pissed at myself. You say you’ve forgiven me, but it’s going to be a long time before I forgive myself.”

Cradling his beard-roughened cheeks in her palms, she gave him a gentle kiss. “I have forgiven you, there’s no ‘say’ about it. I need you to try to forgive yourself, though.”

He breathed deep, turning his cheek so that her hair brushed against his skin. “I’ll try. For you.”

She kissed him again because she couldn’t be that close to him and his beautiful mouth without kissing him. He’d promised to try and she’d hold him to that, but she was far from done.

“Ask me again,” she demanded, her voice low. She slid backward, her buttocks pressing into his groin.

He groaned, shifting restlessly, trying to move her where he wanted her. “Ask you what?”

“The question you asked me a few minutes ago. Ask me again.”

A spark lit the depths of his sea-blue eyes but she couldn’t discern the emotion behind it. “Would you have kept our child or given it up for adoption?”

That wasn’t the full question, but she decided to answer him anyway. “I wanted to keep it, to love it and raise it. But I was by myself in France, and you … I don’t think I would have been able to support us both during those first couple of years, but I would have tried.”

She ran her fingernails down his chest, making him hiss. “Now tell me what you meant by the second part.”

“The second part of what?”

“You know what I mean.” She lifted up enough so that his cock, engorged and ready, could stretch up his pelvis toward his navel. Lowering herself, she rested her opening along the length of his erection, her outer lips flanking his hardness. “Say it.”

He grit his teeth, a growl emanating from between his lips. His fingers curled around the red braid on his wrist. “Despite the fact that I was the father, would you have kept our child?”

“That baby was a part of you, a part of us,” she whispered past the urge to sob. “I wouldn’t have given it up unless I had no other options. Why would you think that?”

“Because you were alone. Because you thought I’d abandoned you.” His muscles bunched beneath her as his hands curled into fists. “I did abandon you. Are you telling me you wouldn’t have given our child up for adoption?”

“Out of anger or some twisted need to get back at you?” She shook her head, sending her riot of red curls flying. “That baby was my last tie to you—the only tie I had left. No, I would not have given him up. I would have called my father for help, fought tooth and nail, done any and everything to keep our baby.”

“Had I known, I wouldn’t have left you alone.” His eyes burned with conviction. “I would have done the right thing. I would be there for my child.”

Tears blurred her vision as his words stabbed at her. “You are not your father, Raphael. You would be a better dad than he could have imagined.”

“How do you know?” he asked, his voice stark. “I don’t know shit about being a father. The only example of fatherhood I had was your dad.”

“You know what not to do. You know to be there for your child. You know not to give up and check out because you know how much a child needs its parent. You know what that feels like and you’d do everything in your power not to let it happen to another child.”

“I’d try,” he said, his voice as tightly coiled as his muscles. “I’d do anything for my child. Our child.”

“I don’t want anything else between us, Raffie,” she said, her voice shaking. “I need to know that you forgive me, that you’re not still angry with me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not,” he said, settling his hands on her waist. “I can’t forgive you because there’s nothing to forgive.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He reached up to cup her cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Those beautiful eyes should never see tears.”

“Then don’t leave me again,” she choked out. “Don’t take off because you think it’s better for me or you’re doing me a favor or protecting me. You’re not. Being without you hurts.”