Whatever the Price (11 page)

Eleven

W
hen Charlotte came into the living area, Anthony had changed into a black dress shirt and black pants and was having a murmured conversation with a very handsome, very tall Latino man.

Not only that, the leather sofas and tables had been pushed to the outer walls to expose the entire hardwood floor of their spacious living area.

“Charlotte.” Anthony turned as she entered the room, extending his hand toward her. “Come meet Rico. He’s here to give us dance lessons.”

Dance lessons?

Smiling, she turned her attention to their guest as she moved toward Anthony’s outstretched hand. “Really?”

“I’m honored to be here,” he told her with a thick Latino accent. “Mr. Price tells me it has been your dream to learn how to waltz. I am here to make that dream come true and show you some other basic dance steps. Dancing is the language of love. Yes?”

Anthony squeezed her hand. “Yes,” he replied. “Where would you like us?”

Rico moved to the surround-sound entertainment area and turned on a slow, romantic ballad.

“First, I want to see how you hold her, Anthony.”

Anthony turned toward her, winked and lifted one corner of his mouth. “My pleasure.”

Oh, mercy. When he looked at her like that, held her in those strong, muscular arms, she didn’t have a chance. She literally melted when he pulled her into his embrace and slid an arm around her waist.

“How’s this?” he asked, never taking his gaze off her.

“Wonderful,” she whispered.

He eyed her mouth. “I was asking Rico, but I’m glad to know you’re comfortable.”

“Perfect,” Rico said, moving in behind Anthony. “I’m going to place my hands on your arms and guide you through the steps.”

Rico reached his arms around Anthony’s and began telling him how to move his feet, how to stay in the lead and how to take charge on the dance floor. After a few moves around the makeshift dance area, Rico stood off to the side and guided them without touching.

All his words registered with Charlotte, but the silk swishing around her bare legs, her body sliding against Anthony’s and the way he never took his eyes off her made it hard to concentrate.

Anthony had planned this for her. Years ago she’d mentioned taking ballroom-dancing lessons with him, but he’d told her there was no way he’d let some leotard-wearing man teach him how to dance with his wife.

She’d dropped the subject after that, but he’d caught her dancing with Lily and obviously her wants overrode his dislikes. Another sign of progress. So here they were dancing, and Anthony was enjoying himself, if the bulge that brushed against her abdomen was any indication.

“I think you have that down,” Rico said. “What do you say we move on to something hotter, sexier?”

Hotter and sexier? Anthony was already hot and Charlotte was sure as hell sexy in that emerald-green dress he’d chosen for her, knowing it would look amazing with her green eyes.

She’d worn green to one of his early premieres and he’d never forgotten how stunning she’d looked in the striking color.

He also hadn’t forgotten her love of dance. She’d told him that she’d taken dance lessons as a kid until her parents couldn’t afford it anymore. Then, when she’d suggested that they take them together, he’d had a near panic attack. There was no way he was interested in letting another man touch his wife to show her how to dance and be sexy. But when he’d seen the smile on her face as she danced with Lily, he knew he wanted to see more of that happiness. He wanted her to stay after the court date, not out of obligation but out of love.

He wished he’d taken her up on the lessons all those years ago when she’d asked. Her smile was absolutely beaming and the look in her eyes—the passion, desire and raw sex—was aimed directly at him.

Perfect. He didn’t know how much longer he’d have to wait for her to finally invite herself into his bed, to share it with him again. He wasn’t a patient man, but he knew once Charlotte decided she did indeed want him, the wait would be more than worth it, considering he’d have a lifetime with her.

Rico tilted his hips and did some crazy sashay move that no man should physically be allowed to do. Charlotte imitated him perfectly…too perfectly.

“You’re a natural,” Rico told her. He turned to Anthony. “Now you.”

Anthony shook his head. “I’m not sure I can move like that.”

“Stand facing your wife.” He motioned Anthony to move closer. “Now place your hands on her hips. Move them, Charlotte.”

Anthony’s palms burned from the fast swaying motions of Charlotte’s very talented hips. When his gaze caught hers, he didn’t miss the gleam in them. She knew she was driving him insane and he deserved every bit of this hell and so much more for hurting her.

“Now try to mimic her,” Rico ordered.

Closing the minimal gap between them, Anthony had no problem with this dance. Her hips bumped against his, her chest mocked him as her nipples brushed against his thin shirt.

The art of having sex with clothes on should be the name of this dance.

“Shouldn’t the man always lead?” Charlotte asked, keeping her eyes locked onto his.

“Oh, honey, he’s leading,” Rico retorted with a wave of his hand. “I knew he’d catch on quick. When a man looks at a woman the way your husband looks at you, the art of dancing is almost natural.”

As grateful as Anthony was to Rico for having introduced them to this nearly erotic dance, Anthony wanted their instructor gone. Now. He wanted to enjoy the feel of his wife in his arms without a spectator. He wanted to peel this dress down her body and hear her beg him to take her to bed.

Charlotte kept her gaze on his and he knew if they were alone, they would’ve shed their clothes by now. Difficult as it may be, Anthony didn’t want to make love again until Charlotte was ready to recommit to their marriage. But he wanted her to ache for him, to crave his touch the way he did hers…the way she used to.

He’d hurt her, that was obvious, but he felt they were making progress on rebuilding this marriage.

The revelation of her miscarriage had truly shocked him. Fatherhood had never been in the plan of his life, but now they had Lily. He wasn’t sure he could handle more children or that their marriage was strong enough for more at this point. First he wanted to get used to being a father to Lily before he could even contemplate more…if he ever did.

But as Anthony stared at Charlotte’s beauty, he couldn’t help but wonder what a child they created would look like.

He splayed his hand across her back, easing her body even closer as he briefly touched his lips to hers.

“I think you two are going to burn up any dance floor.”

Rico’s proud tone didn’t distract Anthony, not when Charlotte’s eyes remained on his, never wavering.

When the song ended, Anthony leaned down to Charlotte’s ear and whispered, “This needs to be a party of two.”

Charlotte’s heart clenched at Anthony’s warm breath against her cheek, his promising words and how he’d held her and looked into her eyes as if she were the only woman he’d ever love and nothing else mattered.

Anthony moved to talk to Rico, the two men standing huddled on the other side of the room. Charlotte glanced to the wall clock and couldn’t believe two hours had already passed. Dancing with Anthony, being in his arms, had been so amazing, so arousing, she’d lost all track of the time. And now Rico was leaving and who knew what Anthony had in mind?

Well, he was a man for one and she’d been married to him for many years, so she pretty well knew what was on his mind. Her body was so revved up after that fast, frenzied dance they’d just completed, her hormones were all over the place. She wanted this man, but that was just a physical response. On a deeper level, beyond the arousal and lust, she was falling for him all over again.

Once Anthony locked the door and turned to face her, Charlotte’s heart beat so hard, so fast against her chest she feared he’d hear it. Like a panther stalking its prey, he moved slowly over the hardwood floors. One click after another of his shoes sounded until he stood directly in front of her with barely a brush of light between them.

“Dance with me,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her even closer.

Those hard plains of his body never got old. The power in his embrace, the fresh, masculine aroma that she associated only with Anthony never failed to make her knees weak and the female in her stand at attention, ready for whatever he wanted to give her.

But this was still fantasy. Yes, he’d done this amazing act for her, but she had to prepare herself: What if he decided family life wasn’t for him? They were both so new to this. She only prayed that when the newness wore off he’d still find this personal side of his life appealing.

If she wanted to keep the marriage alive, she needed to come clean about the baby. Now that she’d told him about her miscarriage, she knew that even if the worst happened again, Anthony would be there for her.

“Rico turned the music off.”

Charlotte hated stating the obvious, but she was a tad nervous and didn’t know if she should talk to lighten the intense mood or remain quiet.

“You’re shaking,” he told her, ignoring her comment. “I’m flattered.”

Charlotte laughed. “I’m cold.”

Anthony ran a fingertip over her bare shoulder and down her arm. “Funny, you didn’t have any gooseflesh until I touched you. If anything, I’d say you’re hot.”

“Anthony.” She grasped his biceps, stopping the dance, and stared into his eyes. “I can’t go any further until you know something.”

“Will it take long? Because I’m dying to taste your lips again.”

She gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m serious. And you may want to sit down.”

“Charlotte, you’re worrying me. What’s wrong?”

He remained standing, so she held on to his arms, more of a brace for herself.

“I’ve seen how you’ve progressed with Lily,” she told him, tamping down her nerves and fear. “You treat her like your own.”

“That’s the point of being a guardian, right? To make the child like your own.” The corners of his mouth tipped up. “Besides, she’s impossible not to love.”

She knew all this, but hearing him say it out loud went a long way toward giving her the courage to say the next few words.

“I’m pregnant.”

Anthony stared at Charlotte, his eyes instinctively darting down to her stomach. “Pregnant?”

He glanced back up to see her chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m almost six weeks now.”

He raked a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. A baby?
Another
baby?

“I know you have a million thoughts going through your head,” she told him, stepping forward to take his hand. “But we need to discuss what this means for us. I have to be honest. I’m scared, Anthony. I need you.”

Anthony looked into his beautiful wife’s face, humbled that she was seeing him now as her hero, her rock of support.

He brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Are you scared because of where we are in the marriage and with Lily or are you scared of another miscarriage?”

“Both. I love Lily, I love you and I love this baby.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “I almost feel like I can’t have it all. Like I need to choose what’s most important and pray to keep it instead of being greedy and praying for all three.”

Anthony swallowed any fear of another baby in his life. He couldn’t focus on his own insecurities; he had to be strong for Charlotte. Unlike last time when he’d left her to deal with the hurt and loss alone. She was coming back to him, to their marriage. He only hoped he could be the father and husband she needed.

“You don’t have to pick which one to pray for,” he told her, bringing his hands up to frame her face. “I’m not going anywhere, especially now. My God, Charlie. We’re having a baby. I love you, I want you to know that. You won’t be going through anything else alone, especially this. Are you excited?”

A beautiful wide grin spread across her face. “I’ve always wanted babies. Before we had problems, I wanted your babies and I wanted to see you with them. To see how you were as a father. You’re so amazing with Lily that I just know you’ll be a great dad.”

“So this happened when I came to visit you and we ended up not talking at all.” Charlotte nodded. Anthony reached down, palmed her still-flat belly. “How long have you known?”

“Almost a week,” she told him. “I didn’t want to say anything until I saw where we stood and I just worry something will happen.”

The silk of her dress bunched in his hand. “Nothing will happen. Do you hear me? We are going to be a family. We may have things to work on, but we will. And by the time this baby gets here, we will be so ready to love it. Lily will be a great big sister.”

“I wanted you to be happy.” She leaned forward, kissed his lips. “I wanted you to feel love for this baby already, as I do.”

“How could I not? I’m so in love with the baby’s mother.”

Surges of excitement, arousal and pure, raw need coursed through her at his words, his touch. Anthony’s gaze dropped to her mouth and Charlotte stepped toward him, unable to take another second without feeling a closer, deeper bond. This was still her husband, the father of her baby, and she wanted him.

He kept his hands on her face, but quickly took control of the kiss. His hips shifted against hers and there was no question as to how turned on he was. Good, because she was about ready to explode after that two-hour bout of foreplay.

Anthony backed her up until she felt the warm glass of the patio doors at her back. The sun streamed in around them and she’d love nothing more than to have him take her here with the lake at her back. She’d always had a bit of a reckless abandon when it came to making love, and now, after his emotional reaction to her revelation of the baby, she didn’t care about finding a bed or even using the couch that had been shoved aside to make room for the dance floor. She wanted Anthony. Now. She wanted that passion they’d always had to go to another, more intimate level.

His hands cupped her bare shoulders as he broke off the kiss. “Tell me this is more than just desire.”

Charlotte stared up at him. “What?”