Lucas pumped his hips faster even as pressure built from his toes, a tingling of pleasure and pain that shot to the top of his head.
And he felt her wave of pleasure gather, drowning her, racing to carry them both over the edge.
Becca screamed out his name, dug her nails into his shoulders, her body bowed as together they leapt over the edge and fell into oblivion.
Lucas collapsed gasping for breath and she lay limp beneath him.
‘I think I’ve died,’ she told him in a dazed voice.
He laughed softly into the delicate skin under her ear.
‘I think I died with you.’
He lay on top of her, his body pinning hers to the bed, still locked securely inside her while he kissed her soft mouth at his leisure, tasting, savouring. Little aftershocks had her muscles grip him even tighter as his teeth tugged at her bottom lip.
He filled her, still hard and thick as every aftershock sent joy pulsing through her system. His hands cupped her breasts.
‘I thought men needed recovery time,’ she breathed into his mouth.
He laughed softly and sent another wave of sexual pleasure vibrating through her.
‘I am having difficulty believing I am actually inside you.’
Becca pushed him onto his back until she straddled him, then she moved her hips in a long, slow glide up and a slow glide down him. His quiver of pleasure made her back arch to change the angle, to take him deeper.
‘What are you waiting for?’ she wanted to know as she scooped her hair up and back.
Lucas stared up at her in dreamy amazement.
They were both slick with healthy sweat and he was still rock hard.
He supposed there must be a first time for everything.
‘You are supposed to be relaxing,’ he groaned.
Then he couldn’t speak, couldn’t think as she was gripped him so ferociously with her core muscles, riding him so hard, so fast with long, deep strokes. Any finesse, any control snapped as he let her ravish him, all the while watching the flush of pleasure heat her face, her breasts.
Gripping her hips, he picked up the rhythm, thrusting upward. Each stroke took his breath as her body squeezed his. She was so hot, so wet, and so tight.
This time they orgasmed fast and furious.
Breathlessly, Becca panted, collapsing to lean her forehead on his shoulder.
‘Trust me,’ she purred deep in her throat. ‘I’m relaxed.’
Lucas awoke the next morning to the sound of Becca being wretchedly sick.
The realisation that she was trying to be quiet about it had guilt dig him hard in the ribs.
This was all his fault.
The tabloids made him out to be a party animal bedding a different woman every night. Certainly, he needed to attend functions to keep the profile of the business high and support his clients but he’d always slept alone. He lay there wondering what Becca would say if she knew she was the first woman he’d ever spent a full night with in his bed in this house. He suspected she’d find it very hard to believe and who could blame her?
The sound of the toilet flush and taps running had him sit and wait for the corpse to appear.
She looked worse.
‘Are you okay?’
Wrapped in a white towelling robe that drowned her slim frame, hair tied in a messy knot on the top of her head, Becca leaned for support against the doorframe.
‘No.’
‘I can tell.’
Her skin became grey tinged with green as she turned and fled.
He followed her into the bathroom, grabbed a flannel and ran it under the cold tap. After he’d squeezed out the excess water, he folded it and crouched down pressing the cloth against her damp forehead.
Her hand tried to push him away. ‘I’m vile. Don’t come near me...’
‘
Pobre, bebe
. I was too rough with you.’
She collapsed back against the wall as he wiped her clammy face.
‘No, I enjoyed it.’
He plucked her up and carried her through to bed.
And he didn’t like the look of her, she was bone white and would put good money on it she had a thundering headache.
Picking up the house telephone he pressed a button.
‘Moira? What works for morning sickness?
Si, si, gracias
.’
He turned to Becca who was staring at him with big eyes drowning in conflicting emotions. She didn’t look friendly and his heart stumbled. Perhaps he should have asked her permission before telling his staff she was pregnant? Although he was sure his driver had a pretty good idea since he’d driven them each time to Harley Street.
‘Ah, she says congratulations. She is making ginger tea and will bring you dry biscuits. The key apparently is to eat before you get up.’
Becca glared at him, furiously swiping away a stray tear.
‘I don’t understand it. I wasn’t sick before.’
He bent his head. ‘This is my fault.’
Her narrowed eyes made him flinch. ‘Damn right it is.’
The knock at the door heralded a bustling Moira carrying a tray.
‘What a lovely surprise. Himself will be so delighted, Lucas. Och now, don’t you cry, my wee darling.’ Moira poured the tea and handed Becca the cup. She perched on the bed as Becca sipped and nibbled a dry biscuit. ‘When is it due?’
Lucas relaxed back against the pillows as Moira handed him a cup of tea. He was as naked as the day he was born with the sheet barely covering his bits.
The man, Becca decided as she threw him a killing look, was a disgrace. And Moira didn’t even have the propriety to blush either. She was probably used to finding women in his bed and him stark naked. The thought had her speak through gritted teeth even as her emotions took her on yet another rollercoaster ride.
‘Just over six months. And it’s
twins
.’ The last word was sobbed out of her throat which made Moira cluck and Lucas bite down hard on his bottom lip.
‘Twins! No wonder your emotions are all over the place and why you’re feeling so poorly.’ Moira narrowed her eyes at Lucas. ‘And that means plenty of rest. No swinging from the chandeliers, my lad.’
At the look of total outrage on his face, Becca swung from tears to giggling like a fool.
‘This is nature’s way of making sure you rest,’ Moira continued on quite oblivious. ‘I’ve heard a milky coffee is good. We’ll try it once your tummy’s settled.’
She bustled away as Lucas watched Becca howl with laughter through hooded eyes.
‘Is it going to be like this all the time?’ he wanted to know in a pained voice. ‘One minute you are crying the next you are laughing at me?’
‘It was your face that did it. Who’s ‘Himself’?’
‘My father.’
Nibbling her biscuit thoughtfully, Becca turned to him and spoke her thoughts. ‘Why don’t you call him now?’
‘What will I tell him?’
‘I’m prepared to compromise. Tell him you’re getting engaged.’
In the next moment Lucas was dragging her into his arms, she clung to him as heartfelt emotions overwhelmed her. Becca buried her face in his chest, giving herself a few moments to gather her scattered wits.
‘You are sure?’ he asked, his fingers lifted her chin, dark intense eyes bored into hers. She read a mix of happiness and anxiety.
‘No, I’m terrified. And I’m
thinking
about becoming engaged to you it doesn’t mean I’m going to marry you,’ she told him the honest truth.
‘Having courage does not mean being unafraid.’
‘I know, but I can’t help worrying he’ll believe you were trapped into this relationship.’
‘Trust me,
querida
. My father knows me well enough to know that I never do anything unless I want to.’
Becca burrowed closer to his heart and hoped to hell she was doing the right thing.
Lucas had been gone for a mere forty-two hours and she hadn’t slept a wink.
Once Justin realised she wasn’t going to France until she was able to travel, he’d stopped returning her calls. He’d ignored the invitation to dinner too. This was not unusual behaviour for him. He used silence as a weapon whenever he was unhappy with her or not getting his own way. So she’d turned off her phone to stop tormenting herself.
Trying not to let Justin get to her and telling herself she was being pathetic to miss Lucas so much, Becca dragged her weary body into the kitchen to find his housekeeper on a break and reading the latest hot gossip.
‘Did you drink your ginger tea?’ Moira asked her then frowned as she took in her appearance. She rose and moved to the largest industrial sized refrigerator Becca had ever seen.
‘Yes, thank you. It seems to do the trick.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry.’
Moira peered over her shoulder and beaned her with a look.
‘Margo has called twice this morning and so has The Boss. Apparently, you’ve not been looking at your inbox because he’s has not received a reply to his emails. And your Smartphone is switched off.’
She poured Becca tea and placed it in front of her.
Becca glowered into the cup. ‘I like my old phone.’
‘Is it switched on because Margo said it’s going straight to voicemail?’
‘Um, no.’
Moira rolled her eyes. ‘Why haven’t you checked your emails?’
Becca wriggled on her chair feeling very hard done by. ‘I will after I’ve had my breakfast.
‘See that you do. He’s worrying.’
Sheesh, Moira was worse than her mother. Her guilty conscience gave Becca a nudge. She needed to get over her phobia about technology. If a ten year old could surf the net and answer emails on a laptop then she could too and she had her flow chart that Lucas had gone through with her and it was easy when he was sitting at her elbow, but quite a different experience when she was sitting alone with the thing buzzing and pinging at her.
Moira placed a chunky glass dish in front her containing a screaming pink concoction topped with fresh blueberries and sprinkled with seeds.
Becca took a cautious sniff, picked up a spoon. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s all organic. Plain yoghurt, two scoops of protein powder and fresh raspberries all whizzed together and sprinkled with fresh blueberries, a mix of pumpkin, sunflower, sesame and linseeds.’
Yoghurt wasn’t her favourite food, but Becca took a careful taste and her eyes went wide.
‘This delicious. Thank you.’ She suppressed another yawn.
‘You’re welcome.’ Moira ran a critical but kind eye over her. ‘Not sleeping?’
Becca shook her head. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’
‘You’re missing Lucas. It’s natural.’
‘I’m being pathetic.’
‘You’re in love. No, don’t look at me like that. You can’t have love without lust.’
With care, Becca put down the spoon and met her eyes.
‘I lost the love of my life, Moira. Something in me died too that day.’
The Scotswoman poured Becca another cup of tea and sat next to her.
‘I’m a good listener.’
She didn’t know if it was the earnestness in her lilting voice or the tone, but Becca found herself re-living the day her husband died.
‘So you see,’ she said, blowing her nose in her napkin. ‘I can’t give Lucas what he needs.’
Moira placed her elbows on the table. Her grey eyes were filled with sympathy, but her tone remained firm.
‘I’m very sorry for your loss, Becca. John and I came to work for Himself after I lost two babies. I wasn’t meant to have my own children, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be a mother. Lucas and Jacob were babies when we arrived. The mistress was very ill after delivering Jacob. It was a difficult birth, some say she never fully recovered. Lucas was still in nappies.’ She grinned at Becca’s wide-eyed expression. ‘Yes, I’ve smacked that boy’s bottom many a time.’
Shaking with laughter, Becca scooped another delicious spoonful of yoghurt.
‘That explains a lot. Tell me about him. What was he like?’
Moira sipped her tea, her eyes twinkling wickedly.
‘Och, he was a wee force of nature. Always into something. Once he set his heart on a thing, nothing could stop him.’
‘Doesn’t sound as if he’s changed much,’ muttered Becca.
‘True, very true. But you mustn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers. You’re the first woman who has slept with him in this house.’
Remembering how relaxed Lucas was when Moira came into his bedroom, Becca found that pretty hard to believe.
‘But, surely ...’
‘Oh, I know he’s had women. But he never brings them home. For one thing he knows I would be out the door because I don’t hold with casual flings. I knew he’d met someone special weeks ago because he was like a bad tempered big cat, hissing and spitting at anything that moved.’
Becca blushed at the casual fling comment, but couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that she was someone special. He’d said he adored her, but that was in the throes of passion not in the cold light of day.
‘He did?’
‘He did, yes. What I’m trying to say is that he’s a good boy with a kind heart. He works hard and he plays hard. And he marches to the beat of his own drum. Why do you think Jacob runs the hotels? It’s because Lucas is his own man. He’s never taken a penny from his father.
‘Plenty of others in his situation are happy to waste their lives on wine, women and song. Not Lucas. He set up that company and worked like a dog to do it. Of course, his father was not pleased in the beginning, but he’s fit to burst with pride in him now.’
Moira stood as she began to clear the table and gave Becca a piercing look.
‘You might think it’s none of my business what Lucas does with his life or who he brings into it. But I love that boy and I like you, Becca. You’re good for him. It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes in their head that you’ve been to hell and back.’ She loaded the dishwasher, slanted her a look before continuing. ‘You’re feeling guilty about having feelings for Lucas? If your husband truly loved you he would never have wanted you to be alone living with nothing but dust and memories. You don’t honour him by not moving forward and taking love when it’s offered freely and without conditions.’
Becca heard what she was saying, the woman deserved the truth and she opened her heart.