A Tangled Affair (11 page)

There was an arresting look in his eyes. “You love me.”

Eleven

C
arla inhaled sharply at the certainty in Lucas’s voice, feeling absurdly vulnerable that, after two years of careful camouflage, she was so transparent now. She was also hurt by his matter-of-fact tone, as if her emotional attachment was simply a convenience that smoothed his path now. “What did you expect, that I was empty-headed enough that I was just having sex with you?”

“Meaning that was how I was with you?” His grip on her arms gentled. “Calm down. I didn’t know until that moment. I’m…pleased.”

“Because it makes things easier?”

“We’re getting married,” he said flatly. “This is not some business deal.”

He didn’t make the mistake of trying to kiss her. Instead he released her, walked over to the coffee table and picked the ring up.

The diamond shimmered in the light, impossibly beautiful, but it was the determined set to Lucas’s jaw, the rock-solid patience in his gaze, that riveted her. “What if I’m not pregnant?”

“We’ll deal with that possibility when we get to it.”

Her jaw tightened. She didn’t want to create difficulties, but neither could she let him put that ring on her finger without saying everything that needed to be said. “I’m not sure I want marriage under these conditions.”

“That’s your choice,” he said flatly, his patience finally slipping. “But don’t hold out for Alex Panopoulos to intervene. As of yesterday he has reviewed his options.”

The sudden mention of Panopoulos was faintly shocking. “You warned him off.”

“That’s right.” Lucas’s voice was even, but his expression spoke volumes, coolly set with a primitive gleam in his eyes that sent a faint quiver zapping down her spine.

Just when she thought Lucas was cold and detached he proved her wrong by turning distinctly male and predatory.

It wasn’t much, it wasn’t enough, but it told her what she needed to know: Lucas was jealous. Given his cool, measured approach to every other aspect of his life, if he was jealous then he had to feel something powerful, something special, for her.

It was a leap in the dark. Marriage would be an incredible risk, but the past two years had been all about risk and she had already lost her heart. It came down to a simple choice. She could either walk away and hope to fall out of love with Lucas or she could stay and hold out for his love.

Her chin came up. When it came down to it she wasn’t a coward. She would rather try and fail than not try at all.

“Okay,” she said huskily, and extended her hand so he could slide the ring on her finger.

The fit was perfect. She stared at the fiery blue stone, her chest suddenly tight.

Lucas lifted her fingers to his lips. “It looks good.”

The rough note in his voice, the unexpected caress, sent a shimmering wave of emotion through her. “It’s beautiful.”

He bent his head. Before she could react, he kissed her on the mouth. “I have good taste.”

Despite her effort to stay calm and composed and not let Lucas see how much this meant to her, a wave of heat suffused her cheeks. “In rings or wives?”

He grinned quick and hard and dropped another quick kiss on her mouth. “Both.”

* * *

Lucas shepherded Carla into the backseat of the limousine, satisfaction filling him at the sight of the ring glowing on her finger.

She loved him.

He had suspected it, but he hadn’t known for sure until she had said the words. Her emotional involvement was an element he hadn’t factored in when he had decided on marriage. He had simply formulated a strategy and kept to it until she had capitulated.

Now that he knew she loved him and had agreed to marry him, there would be no reason to delay moving her in with him. No reason to delay the wedding.

Marriage
.

Since Sophie’s death, marriage had not been an option, because he had never gotten past the fact that he still felt responsible for the accident.

It had taken a good year for the flashbacks of the accident to fade from his mind, another six months before he could sleep without waking up and reliving that night.

Sometimes, even now, he still woke up at night, reliving their last argument and trying to reinvent the past. He had avoided commitment for the simple reason that he knew his own nature: once he did commit he did so one hundred percent and he was fiercely protective. The night Sophie had died, he had been blindsided by the fact that she had aborted his child. He’d allowed her to throw her tantrum and leave. Maybe he was overcompensating now, but he would never allow himself, or any woman he was with, to be put in that situation again.

Until Carla, he had avoided becoming deeply involved with anyone. The week in Thailand had been a tipping point. Caring for Carla in that intimate situation had pushed him over an invisible boundary he had carefully skirted for five years. He hadn’t liked the intense flood of emotion, or the implications for the future. He knew the way he was hardwired. For as long as he could remember he had been the same: when it came to emotion it was all or nothing.

Now that Carla had agreed to marry him and it was possible that he would be a father, if not in the near future, then sometime over the next few years, he was faced with a double responsibility. He could feel the possessiveness, the desire to cushion and protect already settling in.

With Sophie he hadn’t had time to absorb the impact of her pregnancy because it had been over before he had known about it. She hadn’t given him a chance. With Carla the situation was entirely different. He knew that she would never abort their child. She would extend the same fiercely protective, single-minded love she gave her family to their baby.

Any child Carla had would be loved and pampered. Unlike Sophie, she would embrace the responsibility, the chills and the spills.

It was an odd moment to realize that one of the reasons he wanted to marry Carla was that he trusted her.

* * *

During the drive to the restaurant Lucas had booked, Carla wavered between staring with stunned amazement at the engagement ring and frantically wondering what Lucas’s mother was going to think.

Like every other member of the Atraeus family, Maria Therese would know that Carla and Lucas had more than a hint of scandal in their past. Plus, the first and only time they had met, Lucas had been dating Lilah.

Lucas, who had been preoccupied with phone calls for the duration of the short trip to the restaurant, took her arm as she exited the limousine. “Now that we’re engaged, there is one rule you will follow—don’t talk to the press unless you’ve cleared it with me.”

Carla stiffened. “PR is my job. I think I can handle the press.”

Lucas nodded at Tomas, who was evidently waiting for them at the portico of the restaurant. “PR for Ambrosi is one thing. For the Atraeus family the situation is entirely different.”

“I think I can be trusted.”

His glance was impatient. “I know you can handle publicity. It’s the security aspect that worries me. Every member of my family has to take care, and situations with the press provide prime opportunities for security breaches. If you’re going to be talking to the press, a security detail needs to be organized. And by the way, I’ve booked you into the hotel for the launch party. We leave first thing in the morning.”

Carla stopped dead in her tracks, a small fuzzy glow of happiness expanding in her chest. Lucas had obviously taken care of that detail before he had asked her to marry him, righting a wrong that had badly needed fixing. She knew she wouldn’t be in charge of running the show, but that was a mere detail. She would still be able to make sure everything came off perfectly and that was what mattered. She was finally starting to believe that this marriage could work. “My contract as Ambrosi’s public relations executive is up for renewal next week.”

“It’s as good as signed.”

“That was almost too easy.”

His arm slid around her waist, pulling her in against his side as they walked into the restaurant. “I was going to renew it anyway. You’re damn good at the job, and besides, I want you to be happy.”

Her happiness expanded another notch. It wasn’t perfection yet—she still had to deal with that emotional distance thing that Lucas constantly pulled—but it was inching closer.

Maria Therese, Zane and Lilah were already seated at the table. Carla’s stomach plunged as Lucas’s mother gave her a measuring glance. With her smooth, ageless face and impeccable fashion sense, the matriarch of the Atraeus family had a reputation for being calm and composed under pressure. And with her late husband’s affairs, there had been constant media pressure. “Does your mother know how long we’ve been involved?”

“You’re an Ambrosi and my future wife. She’ll be more than happy to accept you into the family.”

Carla’s stomach plunged. “Oh, good. She knows.”

* * *

The resort chosen for the product launch was Balinese in style. Situated in its own private bay with heavy tropical gardens, it was also stunningly beautiful.

The hotel foyer was just as Carla remembered it when she had originally investigated the resort for the launch party. Constructed with all the grandeur of a movie set, it was both exotic and restful with a soaring atrium and tinkling fountains.

When Carla checked in at the front desk, however, she found that the guest room that had originally been booked for her had been canceled and there were no vacancies. Every room had been booked for the launch.

Lucas, casual in light-colored pants and a loose gauzy white shirt that accentuated his olive skin and made his shoulders look even broader, slipped his platinum card across the counter. “You’re sharing with me. The suite’s in my name.”

So nice to be told. Even though she understood that Lucas was behaving this way because he was still unsure of her and he wanted to keep her close, there was no ignoring that it was controlling behavior. Pointedly ignoring the interruption, she addressed the receptionist. “Are you sure there are no rooms left? How about the room that was originally booked for Lilah Cole?”

Lilah had originally been slated to attend the launch. As the head designer she had a right to be there, but she had pulled out at the last minute.

The receptionist dragged her dazzled gaze off Lucas. “I’m sorry, ma’am, there was a waiting list. The room has already been allocated.”

Carla waited until they were in the elevator. The feel-good mood of the two-hour drive from Sydney in Lucas’s Ferrari was rapidly dissolving. Maybe it was a small point since they were engaged, but she would like to have been asked before Lucas decided she would be sharing his room. Lucas’s controlling streak seemed to be growing by leaps and bounds and she was at a loss to understand why. She had agreed to marry him; life should be smoothing out, but it wasn’t. Lucas was oddly silent, tense and brooding. Something was wrong and she couldn’t figure out what it was.

Lucas leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest, his gaze wary. “It’s just a hotel room. I assumed you would want to share.”

“I do.”

Lucas frowned. The relaxed cast to his face, courtesy of an admittedly sublime night spent together in his bed, gone. “Then what’s wrong? You already know that Lilah and I were not involved.”

“It’s not Lilah—”

The doors slid open. A young couple with three young children were waiting for the elevator.

Lucas propelled her out into the corridor. “We’ll continue this discussion in our room.”

Their luggage had already been delivered and was stacked to one side, but Carla barely registered that detail. The large airy room with its dark polished floors, teak furniture and soaring ceilings was filled with lush bouquets of roses in a range of hues from soft pinks to rich reds. Long stemmed and glorious, they overflowed dozens of vases, their scent filling the suite.

Dazed, she walked through to the bedroom, which was also smothered with flowers. An ice bucket of champagne and a basket crammed with fresh fruit and exquisitely presented chocolates resided on a small coffee table positioned between two chairs.

Lucas carried their bags into the bedroom. The second he set them down she flung her arms around him. “I’m sorry. You organized all this—it’s beautiful, gorgeous—and all I could do was complain.”

His arms closed around her, tucking her in snugly against him. The comfort of his muscled body against hers, the enticement of his clean scent, increased her dizzy pleasure.

The second she had seen what Lucas had done, how focused he was on pleasing her, the notion that there was something wrong had evaporated. Now she felt embarrassed and contrite for giving him such a hard time.

Carla spent a happy hour rearranging the flowers and unpacking. By the time she had finished laying out her dress for the evening function, Lucas had showered, changed into a suit and disappeared, called away to do a series of interviews.

A knock on the door made her frown. When she opened it a young woman in a hotel uniform was standing outside with a hotel porter. After a brief conversation she discovered that Lucas had arranged for the items to be delivered for her perusal. Anything she didn’t want would be returned to the stores.

Feeling a bit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, Carla opened the door wider so the porter could wheel in a clotheshorse that was hung with a number of plastic-shrouded gowns. At the base of the clotheshorse were boxes of shoes from the prominent design stores downstairs. She signed a docket and closed the door behind the hotel employees.

A quick survey of the gowns revealed that while they were all her size and by highly desirable designers, they were definitely not her style. Two had significantly high necklines, one a soft pink, the other an oyster lace. Both were elegant and gorgeously detailed, but neither conformed to her taste. The pink was too ruffled, like a flapper dress from the 1920s, and the oyster lace was stiffly formal and too much like a wedding gown.

The other boxes contained matching shoes and wraps and matching sets of silk underwear. She couldn’t help noticing that none of the shoes had heels higher than two inches.

As dazzled as she was by the lavish gifts, nothing about any of them fitted her personality or style. Each item was decidedly conventional and, for want of a better word, boring, like something her mother would have worn.