Page 95 of The Duke's Virgin
“Is everything all right with you and…” He hesitated, not continuing for so long, I couldn’t tell if he was going to say anything else or not.
“I didn’t get rid of it, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said sharply. “But you don’t need to concern yourself. This baby isnoconcern of yours. She’smine. Nobody else’s.”
“She.” His voice was soft and full of something I couldn’t pinpoint. I didn’t want to look at him, but I couldn’tnotdo it either. He was watching me again, staring at my face with avid interest, as if he’d been aching to see me again.
A knot lodged in my throat, and I swallowed around it, looking away once more. I couldn’t stand there and see that expression, that look he’d once given me, like Imattered.
“It’s a girl, then?”
His question splintered my thoughts and my attempt to ground myself. Flinching, I hunched in on myself and stared at the surface of the lake so hard, it should have started to boil. “I don’t know. It’s too early.”
“Oh. I guess it was just a slip of the tongue.”
“What thefuckdo you care?” I snapped inanotherapparent slip of the tongue. I rarely cursed, but nerves and need and misery churned in me, spiking my anxiety and my need and my hurt. I shot him a dark look. “It’s not like the baby isanyof your concern, right? I was either trying to trick you into marriage or a payout, and clearly, I won’t get either. Shouldn’t you be taking care of whatever paperwork you need me to sign so I don’t try to entrap you again?”
“Stop!”
Thunder cracked just as he spoke, making his voice nearly indistinguishable, but I heard him all the same.
He came for me, and once more, I backed up, the remembered shame and pain twisting in my belly like an unseen knife. Luka’s face contorted, likehewas the one hurting, and fury ripped through me.Hehad the nerve to look hurt?Hehad the nerve to look like he was suffering?
“What do you want?” I shouted, wrapping my arms around my middle and glaring at him while the rain pelted us.
He was soaked to the skin, the white shirt he wore plastered to his muscles, his hair slicked tight to his skull. It left his strong, proud face unframed, making his eyes look more intense, even a little wild.
He didn’t speak, and I wanted to swing out and hit him, hard. Hard enough to hurt, so that he had some idea of howIhurt.
“Answer me,” I said, forcing the words out from between clenched teeth. “What in the hell do youwant?”
“You.”
The word, spoken so simply, left me speechless. But not for long.
I snickered. It turned into a giggle, then an outright guffaw. Hand pressed to my mouth, I wheeled away and blinked back the hysterical tears burning my eyes.
“You don’t wantme, Luka,” I said bitterly even as the jagged, unhinged laughter continued to choke its way past my lips. “You might want tofuckme, but that’s not the same aswantingme. Trust me. I know.”
“You’re wrong.” His voice was a rasp, and too close. He spoke directly in my ear, and I jolted in shock, tried not to melt in surrender when he pressed his face into my hair with a groan. “Fuck, Stacia…”
I felt the weight of his cock against my butt, an answering heat flickering to life inside me, and some part of me whispered,Do it. You want him. He wants you. What else matters?
Myprideseemed stupid and paltry in comparison, paling next to the need and love warring inside me, butpridewas all that had held me together when I left Monaco, as I faced my parents, as I came to Kentucky and asked Emmett if he’d meant it when he invited me to come visit.
He nuzzled me and lazy, sweet need, like honeyed fire, rolled through my veins. I had to tense every muscle to keep from leaning against him, and when he brought both hands to my hips, the only thing that kept me from moaning was the simple act of biting my lower lip hard.
I waited for him to do something else.
But all he did was knead my hips restlessly and nuzzle me through the fall of my hair. The warmth of his breath teased my neck, making goose bumps form while my blood turned into molten lava. The wind slammed into me at the same time, along with a fresh deluge of rain.
Luka reacted deftly, lifting me and spinning around, putting me down even as I wiped the water out of my face. I pulled free. His hands lingered just a fraction of a second before he let go, and I heard a soft sigh escape him as I hurried to put room between us.
“Why are you here?” I asked him again. I was cold now, and I desperately wanted to be warm, but I felt trapped here on this big, open porch with him. “Emmett isn’t here—”
“I’m not here for Emmett.” He took two big steps, closing the distance between us once again. “I’ve told you.”
I froze as he reached out and cupped my face.
“I’m here for you,” he said softly.
