The Tycoon's Make-Believe Fiancée Page 0,18

that the early stages of pregnancy could be so exhausting,” she explained, rubbing her tummy protectively.

Miranda stood up, watching the other couple leave with a jealous heart and nervous stomach. She wanted that kind of a relationship, she thought as the couple walked out of the room, Tamar’s arm around her waist as if he simply couldn’t stop touching his wife.

Royston sat back down, watching Miranda carefully. He knew she was nervous, but wasn’t sure why. The chemistry between the two of them was surprising, but a good thing in his mind. They both wanted each other, why was there any hesitation?

“Talk to me,” he told her, taking her hand and pulling her down next to him. “Why are you so nervous about being alone with me?”

She resisted for a moment, but figured talking was a better, safer, option than what she suspected he wanted to do. “I need my own room.”

“No you don’t,” he immediately replied. “We’ll sleep together, but I doubt I’m going to let you sleep very much tonight.”

She felt his thumb rubbing against her wrist and wanted to pull her hand away. “I think that’s what I’m terrified about,” she said, taking a deep breath and looking at the fire. “I can’t do this. Not with you,’ she finally admitted.

“Why not?” he laughed softly at her wording. “And why specifically not with me?”

His hand slid up her arm and she shivered. “Because you terrify me. And I can’t handle this. I can’t handle you.”

His lips formed a slight smile due to her phrasing and all the images her words conjured up in his mind. “I think you can handle me just fine.”

She realized what she’d just said and blushed, looking down again. “See? That’s what I mean. I can’t… I’ve never…” she stopped, her hand fluttering in the air. “I just can’t.”

He lifted her hand, his fingers sliding between hers and the touch was sensuous, startling her with the intensity of her reaction. “Tell me what you can’t do.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re too experienced.”

His eyes captured hers and his hand froze for a long moment. “Are you telling me that you’re not?”

She flushed and looked down, trying to extricate her hand but he wouldn’t release her fingers. “You’re out of my league,” was her refrain.

He didn’t use any more words. With careful precision, he set his brandy glass down on the table in front of him then, with a swiftness she’d never seen before, he lifted her into his arms and set her down onto his lap. His hand immediately moved up to hold her in place when she tried to get away. “You’re perfect,” he groaned.

For a split second, Royston thought about backing off and not making love to her. But that thought was quickly banished by the all-consuming need to possess her as no other man had ever done before. He’d wanted Miranda from the first moment he’d seen her in the hallway. But getting to know her, hearing her laugh over the past two dinners, had given him insight into her sweet personality that wouldn’t allow him to simply walk away from her. He wanted her, he had to have her. And he knew he could make this good for her.

He wondered how he would feel when he moved on to his next mistress but had to push that thought aside. He couldn’t deal with the idea of another man touching her like he wanted to touch her.

He slid his lips over hers, nibbling at her trembling mouth. “Open up for me, Miranda. I promise to take care of you.”

With that assurance and his hands smoothing over her skin, she found that she wasn’t able to resist. Nor did she really want to. Logically, she might know that this was a bad idea. But the events of the past forty-eight hours convinced her, perhaps incorrectly, that this man was not the horrible human being she’d initially thought he was.

When she complied with his command, she shuddered as his hands and mouth devoured her. His hands shifted upwards, cupping her breasts with his strong fingers, moving against the tender flesh and causing a moan to escape from her mouth. She had no idea how it happened, but one moment she was sitting on his lap, the next moment, she was laying on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace while his hands swiftly released the buttons on her shirt. She stared up at his eyes while he pulled the fabric