Her breasts were heavy, spilling out of the bra which he deftly unclasped. He stifled a groan of pure pleasure as the abrasive pads of his thumbs found her nipples, and he began rubbing them ceaselessly, wanting nothing more than to get his mouth on them so that he could taste them.
‘I want to see you.’ His voice was rough and uneven.
‘We shouldn’t…’ Holly could no longer think straight. The thought of seeing that flare of desire in his eyes as he looked at her threatened to turn her legs to jelly, but she wanted him so badly. She knew she shouldn’t, but how could she begin to fight the waves of pleasure radiating through her body? She allowed herself to be gently propelled back towards the huge, deep-red velvet sofa and her knees buckled as she hit the edge of it. In a trance, she sank back and her breath caught in her throat as he unbuttoned the top half of her dress. With a whimper of reluctant, inevitable submission, her eyelids fluttered shut on the sight of him staring down at her exposed breasts, taking in the ripe curves of her newly pregnant body.
She had never been able to resist him and she still couldn’t, Luiz thought with a savage surge of satisfaction. Despite all her protests, one touch and she melted. His arousal was pushing hard against the zip of his trousers but he took time to appreciate the stunning, glorious beauty of her incredible curves.
He didn’t stop to question the mystery of his erratic libido. He just knew that he wanted her. She was carrying his baby! Suddenly, there was an eroticism to that notion that left him reeling. He had never thought about having children before and yet, with the evidence of his virility in front of him, he was unashamedly proud of his achievement.
He felt her wriggle and writhe under him as he ran his hand over her stomach and marvelled at the sensuous feel of its roundness. He was strangely blown away to think that the miracle of life was happening under his hand. He was utterly lost in the anticipation of taking her, having inhabited a sex-free zone ever since he had walked out of her house, when he heard the sound of his doorbell.
Holly had sank so fast and so deep into the whirlpool of exquisite sensation that it took her sluggish brain a few seconds to realise that someone was at the door. Reality pushed through and she struggled onto her elbows. She was horrified at how easily she had succumbed to Luiz’s advances. What had she been thinking?
This was a man whose only concern lay with money; who had lied to her and then compounded his lack of faith in her by proposing marriage preceded by a pre-nup, which was the ultimate declaration that he still felt his wealth had to be protected! This was someone who would never have sought her out, would have been happy never to lay eyes on her again had she not turned up on his doorstep. A man who had grudgingly seen no other option for dealing with a situation he didn’t want but to marry her out of a misplaced sense of responsibility. On all fronts, a man from whom she should be keeping a healthy distance unless strictly necessary. And, yet, she had flung herself in his arms at the slightest of provocations!
As far as Holly was concerned, Luiz thought that he could always get exactly what he wanted and he wanted to marry her because, really and truly, he wanted the child she was carrying. She had turned down his marriage proposal. Had he then decided that there was more than one way of getting what he wanted, and having her back in his bed might succeed where words had failed? Once she had been his for the asking. Did he think that nothing had changed?
How genuine could his so-called sudden attraction be when he hadn’t made the slightest effort to get in touch for all those weeks, when in fact he had already found himself…
Shame and dismay left her speechless as she suddenly remembered that he had a girlfriend, the beautiful, glamorous Cecelia. So swept away had she been, that only now as the doorbell rang once more with renewed insistence, did she recall the leggy brunette with the impeccable connections.
Watching her, Luiz could easily see what was going through Holly’s head and he cursed fluidly under his breath.
‘Ignore that,’ he commanded, running with the theory that if he gave her no chance to withdraw completely from him then he could woo her back to the place which he was now desperate for her to occupy.
‘I can’t believe you. You…’ She wriggled, yanking up her dress and manoeuvring herself out from underneath him.
‘Let’s not play the blame game here, Holly. You haven’t ended up naked and under me because there was a gun to your head.’
‘And do you think I respect myself for… for…?’
‘Just come right out and say it—for wanting to make love to me. Where’s the shame in that?’ The doorbell rang again and Luiz furiously levered himself up while Holly frantically tried to get herself in order.
She was running her fingers through her hair when she heard the clicking of heels on the wooden floor, and when she looked to the doorway it was to see the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life. A living, breathing fashion doll was staring down at her.
Cecelia Follone. In real life, she was a million times more drop-dead gorgeous than the grainy pictures on the Internet had suggested. Long, dark hair flowed in artful disarray down her slender back. Olive-skinned and green-eyed, she had a body that was made for very, very small items of clothing, and she clearly knew that, for the vibrant red jersey-dress barely skimmed the top of her thighs. She carried her expensive coat over one shoulder.
For a few seconds, both were speechless for different reasons, but Cecelia was the first to break the silence with a barrage of high-pitched, accusatory Portuguese. Holly didn’t have to be a mind-reader to understand exactly what was being said. Mortified, she hurried up to the doorway, her face burning and her eyes very pointedly not resting on Luiz who seemed remarkably unfazed by the arrival of his girlfriend. He held up one imperious hand which brought the torrent of rapid Portuguese to an abrupt halt.
‘It seems I have forgotten that I had a date… understandable, given the circumstances.’
Holly took a deep breath and held out her hand to Cecelia who looked at it disparagingly. ‘I… I’m very pleased to meet you.’ She dropped her hand to her side and cleared her throat. ‘I’m… eh… Holly.’
This elicited another round of hysterical Portuguese which Luiz listened to before saying coldly, ‘Please speak English, Cecelia.’
‘Who are you and what are you doing here?’
‘Actually, I was just on my way out.’
‘I don’t think so…’ Luiz’s voice was calm and final but Holly ignored him.
‘I came here to… to…’
‘Circumstances have changed, Cecelia.’ Luiz turned to the brunette who in heels was easily six feet, which made Holly feel like a pygmy in comparison. ‘I will call you tomorrow to explain but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.’
‘I am not going anywhere until I know what is going on!’ Cecelia’s high-pitched, accented English was laced with venom.
‘Nothing’s going on!’ Holly defended quickly. ‘I just came to have a quick chat with, er, Luiz, and I was just about to leave.’
‘Chat about what?’
Luiz had been lounging against the doorway, and with a laborious sigh he swivelled Cecelia to face him and spoke to her in Portuguese. He kept his voice low and flat which made much more of an impact than if he had shown any sign of emotion.
From the sidelines, Holly watched as Cecelia’s eyes widened and her mouth compressed. She wanted to be anywhere but here, in this house, and she was sickeningly ashamed of herself and of her lack of self-control. Trying to make herself as invisible as she could, staring down at the floor, she kept perfectly still for the next ten minutes as Luiz and Cecelia conducted a conversation