Overnight Cinderella (10 page)

Another gift from Duke. Why hadn't he given it to her last night? She smiled to herself and knew they hadn't needed it last night.

Duke had taken all of her girlish fantasies and showed her a woman's reality. She wanted him again. She wanted his hard body above hers. Moving in her and driving her again toward rapture. But where was he? The balcony was empty, and the beach was already beginning to fill with tourists and convention executives enjoying the sun.

She returned to the room, calling out for him. Silence answered her. She opened the closets with a heavy heart.

Empty.

Duke had left her. While she'd slept and imagined making love to him again, he'd skulked away. She shook with rage. How many times was he going to leave her? How many times was she going to let him?

That dog, she thought. Tears burned the backs of her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had to find her dignity. She had to make some plans. She had to track down that coward and make him pay for what he'd done.

She knew he was hurting. He couldn't be with her and not know she cared. She knew he didn't want to lead her on, but this hurt so damn much she wanted to get back a little of her own.

The vindictiveness of the thought shocked her. She wasn't a mean person. She didn't seek to harm others. Why then would she want to hurt the one person whom she loved more than any other?

She put on last night's dress and let herself out of the room, the lacy peignoir draped over her arm. Luckily her room was on the same floor. She removed her key and, head down, walked quickly to her room. The elevator bell dinged as she reached her door. Shoving her key into the lock, she twisted open the door and rushed inside, slamming it shut behind her.

Why hadn't she thought ahead? What if her boss had seen her in the hall in last night's dress? But none of that had mattered. Her only option had been to be with the man she loved.

Her flight out wasn't until this afternoon, and she'd foolishly imagined spending the day with
Duke. Picking up the phone, she called the front desk and confirmed Mr. Merchon had checked out. The concierge had changed his departure to an early morning flight.

Cami requested they book her on the next flight out and went to take a shower. No way was Duke getting out of this that easily. He was her mate and she was going to fight for him.

W
as that really her? Cami stood outside Duke's trendy Buckhead apartment building, hesitating for the first time since she'd left Hilton Head. She saw her reflection in the glass door. Her clothing was chic and tailored, purchased at the trendy little boutique in the hotel lobby before she'd left. Her hair that she'd had styled last night still retained some of its body though she'd washed it. For once, she liked the reflection looking back at her.

The woman in the glass was a strong woman, Cami thought. That woman could make any man fall in love with her. Pushing open the door, she strode across the lobby to the bank of elevators. Before leaving her hotel she'd used her laptop and modem to access the company directory to find
Duke's address. When the elevator doors opened on Duke's floor she let her anger and outrage propel her down the hall, hoping that it would hide her deep hurt from him.

She rang the doorbell and stood back. The chimes echoed through his apartment, and she wondered if he was at home. Then she heard the tread of footsteps to the door and a slight pause before he opened it.

“Cami,” he said. Just her name, but a wealth of feeling behind it. It was as if she were his personal demon sent to torment him.

He looked haggard and lost. A lonely man who was trying to protect himself. Cami was torn between compassion and exasperation.

“I'm not letting you leave me again.”

He stood back, beckoning her inside with a nod of his head. At times he was almost brusque, and she forgot he was a man of refinement. His apartment was sparse but tranquil. Tranquillity was something she'd never seemed to achieve. She flitted around the room, unable to stand still. He had a splendid view of Buckhead from his living room windows.

“Stand still,” he said, his voice a raspy command.

His tone jolted her and she pivoted to face him, knocking over a Japanese bowl that looked really expensive. She tried to grab it but couldn't. Duke leaped forward and caught it one-handed.

“Sit down before you demolish the place.”

Cami hurried over to the black leather couch and
sat. She didn't like it. Duke towered over her like some mythical god of old looking down on a mortal maiden from Mount Olympus.

“Why did you leave without a note?”

“I promised you one night.”

“Did that night entail a specific number of hours and had we exceeded them?” she snapped.

“No,” he said, running his hand through his tousled hair. He crossed to her and sat next to her on the couch. Her heart ached for him and she wanted to reach out and soothe him.

“Duke, I know this is hard for you—”

“Then let it be.”

Cami's gaze met his frozen gray one. “I can't. I care for you.”

“Don't,” he said harshly. He grabbed her shoulders, holding her with enough force for her to feel his desperation. “Don't care for me.”

She tried to shrug but couldn't. “It's too late.”

He dropped his hands from her body and stood. Pacing around the room, he seemed to have absorbed her restlessness. “Cami, I'm a roaming man by nature. I travel a lot with this job, and I like it that way.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I like it because I can't form bonds with anyone,” he explained.

“It sounds lonely to me,” she said. Tears burned the back of her throat and eyes and she wanted to wail out loud.

He dropped down in front of her, cupping her face in his hands and brushing the tears from the
corner of her eyes. Tears she'd fought so desperately to control. Tears for a love that had died before it had a chance.

“Ah, sweetheart, every time I care for someone I lose them. I won't take that chance with you.”

“I don't love you,” she said, fighting for her pride.

“Yes, you do.”

How could he be so sure? How could he know what was in her heart and not what was in his own? Why couldn't he love her?

“I'm not letting you push me aside. You haven't lost me. You've helped me blossom into the woman I've always wanted to be.”

“That woman was there all along,” he said.

Leaning forward, she kissed him gently on the cheek. “If all you want is an affair, that's what I'll take.”

He shifted his grip on her face, rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip. “You deserve more.”

“So do you.” Why couldn't he see that? Why did he look in the mirror and see only pain in living instead of joy and passion? She realized at once that it was because he didn't have a family.

She wondered if there was a Merchon relative out there that Duke didn't know of. She'd search for one on the computer. How could a man who'd grown up without love learn to love?

She'd have to show him. She deliberately caught his thumb between her teeth when it caressed her again, sucking lightly. He inhaled sharply and his eyes narrowed with passion.

“Dammit, Cami—”

“Yes, dammit, Duke.”

“What do you want from me?” he demanded.

“A chance,” she said.
A chance to show you that you aren't the destroyer you think you are.

 

Cami spent the night at Duke's house. It felt strange to be sleeping in a bed other than her own. The digital clock on the nightstand read two-thirty. She stared at the pattern of moonlight on the ceiling for a long time. Duke's breathing was steady and sure; he seemed comfortable with her presence.

Rolling onto her side, she slipped from the bed. She crept into the living room and stared out the window. Buckhead was spread before her. The sparse apartment made her heart ache, and she questioned her motives for being here. Did Duke really need to be loved and to love in return? Or would he feel the way she had at the Braves' game in those clothes that weren't her—out of place and uncomfortable?

She bit her lip, trying to convince herself she was right but there was no way to do that. She realized at once you couldn't force someone else out of their safe hiding place unless they wanted to come out. And the knowledge made her heart ache.

She'd never been aggressive in personal relationships. She hated rocking the boat, but this was Duke. The man who'd taught her that sex was more than the culmination of physical desire, but a mystical joining of two souls. That the words “making
love” took on a deeper meaning when the act was done with the man of her heart.

“Cami?” he called from the hallway.

He'd been naked in bed sleeping—had she disturbed him? Of course she had. If she were a different woman she would have caressed that lean muscular body and woken him in a different way. But she wasn't.

“In here,” she said, still facing the window. The darkness comforted her because of what she wouldn't have to reveal. As much as she was willing to fight for Duke, he was easier to face when she could hide her feelings.

“What are you doing up?” he asked. His hands settled on her shoulders and she felt the warmth radiating from his body. For all that he kept to himself, Duke was a very touchy man. He reached for her all the time, taking her hand or caressing her face, but only when they were alone.

She shrugged. “I couldn't sleep.”

His fingers dug deeper into her shoulders, rubbing away the tension caused by worry and creating a whole new tension. Her breasts tingled under the soft cotton of his T-shirt and warmth pooled in the center of her body. She wanted him.

That didn't surprise her, but it worried her. Were her feelings for Duke real or just an infatuation spurred on by her first sexual encounter? Did she have the right to try to change his life when she wasn't sure what direction hers was going in? As his lips caressed her neck, she realized it didn't matter.

What she felt for Duke was
real.
She hadn't waited around for Mr. Right; she'd waited for her soul mate, and Duke was that man. He needed family and security and she could provide him with those things.

She pivoted on her heel and stepped back. Duke hadn't put on any clothes when he'd come to look for her. His lean body painted only in moonlight was stunning. She bit her bottom lip as she saw evidence of his arousal. She was amazed she'd done that to him.

Yet at the same time, wasn't. He affected her so deeply it would be obscene if she didn't trigger some deep reaction in him. She reached for him, and he started to pull her closer into his embrace.

“No, I want to touch you.”

She led him to the leather couch and motioned for him to lie back. Duke needed a woman who was his mate on every level. And last night she hadn't been ready to be his match in bed, but tonight she felt like the embodiment of woman. She felt as if every element of the universe was aligned with her and Duke.

She wanted to make love to him. To give him the same pleasure he'd given her and to make him completely hers.

“Put your hands above your head,” she said.

He did.

“Don't move, okay?”

“You're supposed to keep up the tough gal act. Don't ask my permission. This is your show.”

“Don't move or else,” she said again. This time her words had more force.

“Or what?”

“I'll have to get rough.”

“Please do.”

She kept kissing him and touching his body. The light smattering of hair on his chest, the hard nipples on his pectorals and the solid muscles of his abdomen. He was all that was masculine in both strength and beauty.

She nipped lightly at the firm sinew of his body. Tasting the elemental Duke and memorizing every facet of him. She tongued the line of hair that tapered off toward the center of his body and stared at the most masculine part of him.

She hesitated. “Can I…?”

“Only if you want to,” he said. His hands moved to her hair and she felt his touch at the back of her head. His fingers kneading her scalp. His body with its differences from her own excited her in a way she'd never thought of before. She realized as she breathed his essence, she wanted to completely experience it.

“I'm not sure what to do,” she murmured, and then kissed the tip.

His hips bucked off the couch. She glanced up the length of his body and met his eyes. They weren't frozen gray anymore but lit with an inner fire.

“Less?” she asked.

“More,” he said, using his touch to guide her back to his body.

Cami caressed him with her teeth, tongue and mouth and reveled in awe of his reaction. He gripped her hair, held her closer to him and then just as she felt him surging close to the edge, pulled her away from him. Dragging her up his body, his mouth consuming hers as she'd just consumed him.

He stood and carried her not as a gentleman would but like a caveman bearing his mate off to his bed—over his shoulder. She was so turned on by his reaction to her touch she couldn't stand it. He dropped her in the center of his bed and reached for the box of condoms on his nightstand.

He sheathed himself and fell on her. Bracing his weight on his left arm, he touched her femininity and caressed her. She wanted him desperately and clawed at his chest.

“Now,” she said.

He supported himself on his forearms and thrust. There was nothing gentle in this coupling. It was a mad race to the finish with both of them fighting for supremacy. Duke bent his body and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking fiercely while he thrust steadily into her. Cami felt her entire body start to tingle and then a glorious release. As her body clenched repeatedly around his, Duke groaned deep in his throat and then slumped against her.

His hot body pressing her into the bed should have been too heavy. It should have cut off her breathing and made her uncomfortable to have this strong man on top of her. But it felt right, it felt like home. In the dark as they drifted in the aftermath of something very powerful, Cami realized Duke deserved a shot at happiness.