Bachelor Undone Page 14

  Too late he also realized the show of emotions couldn't be helped. Darcelle Owens had literally gotten under his skin in a way no other woman had since

  Rhonda and in a way he'd vowed that no other woman ever would.

  “Tell me about her, York.”

  He took another sip of his wine and played ignorant. “Tell you about who?”

  “The woman you lost that meant so much to you.”

  There was no reason to ask how she'd heard about Rhonda. Darcy and Ellie were best friends, and somewhere along the way, Ellie had probably heard the story from Uriel, who had shared it with her … at least the parts Uriel knew. But there was so much more that none of his godbrothers knew—like the fact that not only had York lost the woman he had planned to marry but he'd also lost his unborn child. Rhonda had told him a week or so earlier that she was pregnant.

  He liked her a lot, but he wasn't sure he had been in love with her—at least not to the extent he figured his godbrothers Uriel and Xavier were with their wives. And he had taken extreme caution each and every time they'd made love. When she'd decided to begin using the Pill, he had thought things were safe enough for him to stop using a condom. She had gotten pregnant when the antibiotics she had been taking for the flu had counteracted her birth control pills.

  He had been more than willing to step up to the plate and do the right thing and marry her. However, he was certain he wouldn't have thought of marriage without the pregnancy.

  “Why do you want to know anything about Rhonda?” he finally asked, placing his wine glass next to his plate after deciding he needed to be in full control of his senses when engaging in such a conversation with Darcy.

  “I just do.”

  He held her gaze for several long moments—so long that he would not have been surprised if she withdrew her request. Of course she didn't. A part of him was tempted to tell her that her reasoning wasn't good enough, but he decided not to even bother. She had asked a question and expected a response, regardless of whether he wanted to give her one or not. York wondered if it would always be that way with them. Would there ever be a time when they would be on an even keel?

  He leaned back in his chair. “Rhonda and I met about seven years ago when she joined NYPD. I had gotten out of rookie training, and she was just beginning it. We dated off and on for a while, then decided to date exclusively. We'd been at it almost eight months when she was killed.”

  “And you were about to ask her to marry you?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded slowly as if she understood everything and then she added, “You loved her that much.”

  He wasn't sure just what “that much” entailed, but for some reason he felt the need to set the record straight. Why he was doing it with her when he hadn't with anyone else, he wasn't sure. A slow, yet serious smile spread across his lips. Then he simply said, “No.”

  The room lapsed into a moment of dead silence, and he was certain he didn't hear anything. Not the sound of the waves beating against the shoreline, nor the sound of the clock on the wall ticking and not even the sound of her breathing. The look she gave him beneath silky long lashes would have him squirming in his seat had he not gotten immune to that look by now.

  York watched the frown settle around her lips, and he thought that once again she looked annoyed—but not too annoyed not to ask, “And why were you planning to marry her, then?”

  The answer was simple. “She was having my baby.”

  Chapter 13

  Darcy sat up straight in her chair, pulled her bathrobe together when it gaped open, probably the same way her mouth did. His girlfriend had been pregnant when she'd gotten killed? Why hadn't Ellie told her that?

  Evidently, that question was etched across her face because York said, “The reason Ellie didn't tell you is because she doesn't know. I've never told Uriel. No one knows. In the six years since Rhonda's death, you're the only person I've told.”

  Darcy wondered how she got so lucky and decided to ask. “Why tell me?”

  “Because you asked.”

  Darcy wondered when she would learn to mind her own business. But then she recalled there was a reason for this line of conversation, and it had to do with him not wanting her to participate in exposing Felder. “I assumed the reason you didn't want me to be a part of exposing Damien is because you'd somehow feel responsible if something happened to me. Do you feel responsible for what happened to the mother of your child?”

  He shook his head. “No. What she did for a living didn't bother me. I was a cop as well. I had no reason to feel responsible. We had parted that morning with plans to get together for dinner later that night. I had it all planned, a nice cozy dinner around the fireplace where I would ask her to marry me.”

  “But you didn't love her?”

  He took another sip of his wine. “Evidently, there are several degrees of love. At the time I was in my twenties and thought I was in love but since then after hanging around Uriel and Xavier, I realized I didn't have the intense emotions toward Rhonda as they have toward their wives. If Rhonda hadn't gotten pregnant, there's no telling if the thought of marrying her would have entered my mind.”

  Darcy nodded. He was being honest with her, and she could appreciate that. She knew all about being in your twenties and thinking love ruled your heart and then finding out you didn't know the difference between lust and love. It had been a rude awakening for her and a period of time from which she thought she would never recover. Sometimes she wondered if she would truly ever fully recover.

  “And had she lived?” Darcy heard herself prompting.

  He held her gaze. “We would have married and I would have tried to be a good husband and father. But I have reason to believe we would not have made it past the five-year mark. When it came to me, she was too easy, too dead set on letting me have things my way. We rarely argued about anything because she would give in too quickly.”

  Darcy took a sip of her wine thinking it was just the opposite for them. Was that the reason he was attracted to her? Then what was the reason she was attracted to him besides the obvious—looks, body, his skill in the bedroom or any place you wanted to enjoy sex?

  Deciding she needed to make sure he understood her position about Damien Felder, she said, “I won't be changing my mind about helping out, York.”

  “You'd only get in the way. Become a distraction.”

  She lifted both her chin and her brow. “A distraction to who?”

  “Me.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “That sounds like a personal problem.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “But since I can't do anything about it, I have to handle it the best way I can.” He leaned closer toward her at the table. “I suggest you agree to do things my way, Darcy.”

  She leaned closer toward him as well. “And I suggest you do things my way, York.”

  He didn't as much as blink when he said, “It seems that we have a problem.”

  She smiled. “Like I said, it's your problem and not mine.”

  There was something in the way he was looking at her, holding her gaze within his dark, sharp depths that made her heart rate increase. If his eyes could talk, she knew just what they would be saying. It was evident that he was not pleased with the way things were going. She was not a “yes” girl, and he didn't very much like it. Well, that was too bad. She had no intentions of backing down.

  “You know there is a simple solution to this, don't you?” he asked, still holding her gaze.

  “Is there?”

  “Yes, I can make sure you're out of the picture by holding you here against your will.”

  She smiled at the thought of that. “You don't look the type who would easily break the law.”

  “Then I suggest you look again.”

  She did. What she detected in his body language made her uneasy. “You wouldn't dare.”

  “You want to bet?”

  No, she didn't want to bet. She wanted to leave. Standing slowly, she said,
“I want to return to the hotel now.”

  He remained seated in his chair. His gaze was now speculative. Amused. “Running off so soon?”

  She figured it was now or never. He had this way about him that attracted her way too much. Even now she felt her thighs trembling, her panties getting wet. The urge to mate with him was too intense for her comfort. If he thought he could divert her attention with something like sex … well, he was probably right. But she would stand firm and not let him.

  “I'm going to get dressed. Are you taking me back or do I get a cab?”

  “Neither.”

  He was serious. “I'm going to start screaming,” she warned.

  He chuckled. “Baby, you've been screaming a lot since you've been here, anyway.”

  That was true, but he didn't have to remind her or call her out on it. Her attention was drawn back to him when she heard his chair scraping against the floor, and she backed up when he stood. “Let's stop playing games, York.”

  “I'm not playing games, Darcy. By now, Damien has gotten word that you happened to meet an overzealous Johnny Rush fan who talked you out of your tote bag. That woman, Patricia Palmer, is an ex-cop and happens to work for me. She left the island with the tote bag in her possession this morning, headed home via a connection in Miami. My men are posted all over the Miami International Airport, along with Miami police, just waiting to see how things are going to go down.”

  Darcy stared at him, and when she saw he wasn't kidding and that he was dead serious, anger took over her body. “And just how did she get my tote bag?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug. “I gave it to her last night. She dropped by while you were asleep.”

  And because he knew how her mind worked, York added, “And no, I did not make love to you to the point of exhaustion for that reason, Darcy. Making love with that much intensity and vigor is normal for us.”

  She slowly rounded the table and crossed the room to him. “You had no right to give what was mine to someone else,” she said seething between clenched teeth.

  “Would you rather I let you keep it and turn it over to the authorities and let you explain what the hell you were doing with it? This was not a game to be played out your way, Darcy. Lives were at risk. These men will kill anyone who gets in the way of what they consider a million-dollar business. I could not take a chance on your life. I had warned you about Felder, but you wouldn't listen.”

  She lifted her chin and glared at him. “I could have handled him.”

  Did she not hear a single thing he said? Was she that stubborn? At that moment, something inside him snapped. Did she think she was indestructible? A damn superwoman? Someone with nine lives or something?

  She had the nerve to step closer, get in his face. “You used me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “If that's what you want to think, go right ahead. But when you calm down you'll realize what I did was keep you alive.”

  “I don't see it that way.”

  “One day you will.”

  And before she could utter another word, he captured her mouth with his, went at it with a hunger that even surprised him. He knew she was mad, and it would probably take a long time for her to get over things. He'd heard that she could hold a grudge like nobody's business. But he'd had to take his chances. At least she was alive and wasn't in any danger.

  Her heart was beating just as fast and intense as his, and he released her mouth long enough to draw in air that was drenched with her scent—an indication that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Their gazes connected. At that moment, heat surged between them, so strong it nearly singed his insides.

  He was definitely undone.

  Without any type of control, he reached out and his hands ripped the silk gown off her body. He tossed the shreds of torn fabric to the floor. He was about to take her like she'd probably never been taken before. She was in his blood, in his mind. And heaven help him, the woman had somehow wiggled her way into his heart. And she had the nerve to assume that he would let her walk blindly into a dangerous situation?

  He opened his mouth to say something and couldn't. What could he say? An admission of love probably wouldn't ring true to her ears right now anyway. So he would speak in a way that they communicated so well, with their bodies. Whenever they were inside each other they were of one mind, like two peas in a pod. And Lord knew he needed to get all inside that luscious pod of hers.

  Time passed that was measured by the beats of their hearts, a thrumming sound that enlarged his erection with every single tick of the clock. And then he growled, a primitive sound that rented the air, as he lowered his gaze to her naked body and saw everything he wanted, everything he needed, every single thing he loved and desired.

  He unzipped his jeans and quickly stepped out of them, flung them aside. He reached out and drew her into his arms and hungrily captured her mouth once again and began mating with it in a frenzy that he felt down to his gut.

  He felt the moment tension flowed from her shoulders, the moment she forgot all about her anger for the time being to concentrate on their kiss. It was just as fiery and passionate as all the others. He sank his fingers in her hair, felt her scalp and he deepened the kiss. It was as if he couldn't get enough of her, and the more he got, the more he wanted.

  It seemed her hunger was just as intense as his was for her. She had taken him in her hand, was stroking his head and he felt his erection get larger beneath her fingers. She broke the kiss to breathe against his moist lips. “Hurry, York. I want you now!”

  He heard the hunger in her voice. She might still be mad at him, but at the moment she would put her anger aside for this. So would he. There would be a lot to talk about later. And they would talk. Their future depended on an in-depth discussion and whether she wanted to accept it or believe it, they had a future. He now knew how it felt to love a woman to the point where you felt it in every bone in your body, and the need to become one with her was as vital as breathing.

  She twisted out of his arms. “You're taking too long.”

  The moment her feet touched the floor she fell to her knees and took him into her mouth. And he let out a groan that nearly pierced the back of his throat. Immense heat surged in his testicles, and he felt them about to burst. He knew what she was doing. She wanted as much juice from him as his body could produce, and she was making sure there would be plenty by drawing out the lust in him.

  If only she knew. There was no longer lust—only love.

  When he felt his body almost explode in her mouth, he held back. And then without warning he dropped down on his knees and turned her around so that her back was pressed against his chest, her backside snug against his erection. And then his fingers felt around for her, felt the moist heat of her feminine mound, and like radar, the head of his erection found her and he eagerly thrust inside her.

  “Hold on, baby. I'm going to ride you good,” he whispered hotly, close to her ear, and she threw her head back and moaned with every single thrust into her body. He cradled her hips tight into the breadth of his thighs while he pounded into her and she begged for more.

  He reached around her and let his fingers caress the tips of her breasts, cupped them in his hands and kneaded them to his heart's content. Her nipples were firm, erect, like pebbles in his hands. And he knew at that moment he would never, ever get enough of her and that Darcy Owens would be a permanent fixture in his life.

  Darcy felt York in every part of her body each time he pounded into her and then withdrew only to thrust back. He had her thighs spread wide, and she could feel the heat of his chest on hers. He was riding her in a way she'd never been ridden before, driving her insane with pleasure. And when she was to the point of detonating he would slowly ease out of her and in one hard thrust, find his way back in. Over and over again.

  He was literally breaking her down with a need she only knew about since meeting him. She was desperate to have him, to feel him come inside of her, drench her with his
release. Intense pleasure was thrumming, bursting to life in her feminine core, making her whimper, moan, and she knew soon he would have her screaming.

  He thrust deeper inside of her, and she wondered how that was possible. It was as if his shaft had grown in length to accommodate her needs and desires. And then she felt her body buck into an explosion, detonate in rapture and she screamed. It seemed her scream torched something within him, and he rammed into her even deeper, just seconds before exploding.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She felt the essence of him spill into her, flood her in a thick, heated bath of release. It did something to her, and she sucked in a deep breath; with it came the scent of mingled bodies, tantalizing sex. This was pleasure beyond anything they had ever shared, and she knew that as much as she enjoyed it that this would be it for them. The end. He had deliberately kept her with him last night for a reason. It had nothing to do with wanting her but all to do with solving his case.

  But she was convinced that now, at this moment, he needed her. And she hoped he realized that when she left and would refuse to see him again. This was more than a parting gift. This would fuel his thoughts of what he would never have again.

  She pushed the thoughts out of her mind when he kept going for another round and her body was in full agreement when another orgasm swept through her the same time it did him. She gloried in the feel of his hardness exploding into her once again, and she knew at that moment that she loved him. She loved every part of him, but because of what he'd done, her love would not be enough to consider forgiving him.

  York wasn't sure what woke him up, but he opened his eyes and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was almost two in the afternoon. He closed his eyes wanting to remember every detail of what had happened between him and Darcy after breakfast. He smiled as he recalled every luscious detail of them making love—doggy style—on his kitchen floor, showering together afterward before falling into his bed and making love again.

  He opened his eyes knowing the time had come for them to talk. He needed to explain why he could not have let her take part in exposing Felder. She meant too much to him, and there was no way he could have put her at any risk. He loved her.