Read Online HOLIDAY ROYALE by Christine Rimmer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Rimmer
Tags: Romance
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be. I have no doubt of that. I will be safe and treated right. And when it’s over, I swear to you, I will smile at you and wish you the best of everything and let you go.”
Damn it to the depths of hell. What could he possibly say to that?
Not that it mattered what he might have said, because of course Lucy was still talking. “Tell me the truth,” she demanded, biting her soft lower lip.
“Er...which truth is that?”
She gave him another of those sweet sideways glances. “Remember when you kissed me in my room earlier?”
As though he could possibly forget. “What are you getting at?”
“You...liked it, didn’t you?”
He opened his mouth to tell her a lie—and nothing came out.
She shook that finger at him again. “Dami, I may be inexperienced, but I saw the look on your face. I felt your arms around me. I felt...everything. I know that you liked kissing me. You liked it and that made you realize that you could make love with me after all. That you could do it and even enjoy it. And that wasn’t what you meant to do when you told me we could have the weekend together. That ruined your plan—the plan I have been totally up on right from the first—your plan to show me a nice time and send me back to America as ignorant of lovemaking as I was when I got here.”
“Luce...”
“Just answer the question, please.”
“I have absolutely no idea what the question was.”
“Did you like kissing me?”
Now he was the one gulping like some green boy. “Didn’t you already answer that for me?”
“I did, yeah. But I would also like to have you answer it for yourself.”
He wanted to get up and walk out of the room. But more than that, he wanted what she kept insisting she wanted. He wanted to take off her floppy sweater, her skinny jeans and her pink canvas shoes. He wanted to see her naked body. And take her in his arms. And carry her to his bed and show her all the pleasures she was so hungry to discover.
“Dami. Did you like kissing me?”
“Damn you,” he said, low.
And then she said nothing. That shocked the hell out of him. Lucy. Not saying a word. Not waving her hands around. Simply sitting there with her big sweater drooping off one silky shoulder, daring him with her eyes to open his mouth and tell her the truth.
He never could resist a dare. “Yes, Luce. I did. I liked kissing you. I liked it very much.”
A small pleased gasp escaped her. She clapped her hands. “Then there’s no problem. It’s all going to work out. We’ll have our weekend. We’ll see how it goes.” God, she was something extraordinarily fine. So eager and lovely, her eyes shining with anticipation at the possible pleasures to come.
And who did he think he was fooling? He was who he was. When confronted with temptation, he inevitably found a way to surrender to it. She was right. He knew that he wanted her now, and that changed everything.
He only prayed that when it ended, he could still be her friend.
Chapter Five
F ive hours later Damien sat across from her at a small round corner table in his favorite café, a narrow window-fronted shop on a side street in the mostly residential ward of La Cacheron.
“I love it here,” Lucy declared. She was looking amazing, as usual, in a short ruffled skirt, a white schoolgirl blouse, black suede boots and a bright yellow sweater. Amazing and wonderfully young, he thought, so fresh faced and glowing after staying up most of the night battling first with her brother and then with him.
“What, exactly, do you love?” he asked, so that she would continue talking and waving her hands about.
She put out both arms to the side, palms up. “I love the black-and-white linoleum floor, the dark wood counters, the waitresses in their little white aprons, those plain shirtwaist dresses and sensible shoes. They look like they’ve been working here all their lives.”
“Most of them have.” He sipped his café au lait and nodded at their server, Justine, who was
Damn it to the depths of hell. What could he possibly say to that?
Not that it mattered what he might have said, because of course Lucy was still talking. “Tell me the truth,” she demanded, biting her soft lower lip.
“Er...which truth is that?”
She gave him another of those sweet sideways glances. “Remember when you kissed me in my room earlier?”
As though he could possibly forget. “What are you getting at?”
“You...liked it, didn’t you?”
He opened his mouth to tell her a lie—and nothing came out.
She shook that finger at him again. “Dami, I may be inexperienced, but I saw the look on your face. I felt your arms around me. I felt...everything. I know that you liked kissing me. You liked it and that made you realize that you could make love with me after all. That you could do it and even enjoy it. And that wasn’t what you meant to do when you told me we could have the weekend together. That ruined your plan—the plan I have been totally up on right from the first—your plan to show me a nice time and send me back to America as ignorant of lovemaking as I was when I got here.”
“Luce...”
“Just answer the question, please.”
“I have absolutely no idea what the question was.”
“Did you like kissing me?”
Now he was the one gulping like some green boy. “Didn’t you already answer that for me?”
“I did, yeah. But I would also like to have you answer it for yourself.”
He wanted to get up and walk out of the room. But more than that, he wanted what she kept insisting she wanted. He wanted to take off her floppy sweater, her skinny jeans and her pink canvas shoes. He wanted to see her naked body. And take her in his arms. And carry her to his bed and show her all the pleasures she was so hungry to discover.
“Dami. Did you like kissing me?”
“Damn you,” he said, low.
And then she said nothing. That shocked the hell out of him. Lucy. Not saying a word. Not waving her hands around. Simply sitting there with her big sweater drooping off one silky shoulder, daring him with her eyes to open his mouth and tell her the truth.
He never could resist a dare. “Yes, Luce. I did. I liked kissing you. I liked it very much.”
A small pleased gasp escaped her. She clapped her hands. “Then there’s no problem. It’s all going to work out. We’ll have our weekend. We’ll see how it goes.” God, she was something extraordinarily fine. So eager and lovely, her eyes shining with anticipation at the possible pleasures to come.
And who did he think he was fooling? He was who he was. When confronted with temptation, he inevitably found a way to surrender to it. She was right. He knew that he wanted her now, and that changed everything.
He only prayed that when it ended, he could still be her friend.
Chapter Five
F ive hours later Damien sat across from her at a small round corner table in his favorite café, a narrow window-fronted shop on a side street in the mostly residential ward of La Cacheron.
“I love it here,” Lucy declared. She was looking amazing, as usual, in a short ruffled skirt, a white schoolgirl blouse, black suede boots and a bright yellow sweater. Amazing and wonderfully young, he thought, so fresh faced and glowing after staying up most of the night battling first with her brother and then with him.
“What, exactly, do you love?” he asked, so that she would continue talking and waving her hands about.
She put out both arms to the side, palms up. “I love the black-and-white linoleum floor, the dark wood counters, the waitresses in their little white aprons, those plain shirtwaist dresses and sensible shoes. They look like they’ve been working here all their lives.”
“Most of them have.” He sipped his café au lait and nodded at their server, Justine, who was
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