His Heir, Her Honor (Rich, Rugged And Royal #3)(9)
Author: Catherine Mann

He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. As soon as he finished this confrontation with Nancy, he would go straight to Lilah’s—tonight, not tomorrow—and tell her the results of his lab test.

Standing in the open doorway to her penthouse condo, Lilah wished she’d checked the peephole first. But then why hadn’t the doorman rang to let her know Carlos was on his way up? Even royalty shouldn’t be given a free pass into her building.

Granted, she wouldn’t have sent Carlos away, but she would have liked a second to prepare herself before facing him again.

Corridor sconces bathed him in a halogen glow as he waited. Moisture from the light rain clung to his hair and glinted on the hint of silver at his temples. Too easily, she could envision him damp from his shower earlier. Except now he wore clothes. His long trench was open, revealing his gray suit, red tie trekking down his chest the way her fingers itched to mimic.

The hall echoed with intimate silence, everyone else tucked in for the night inside their units in the restored waterfront building. Carlos had been here in the past for informal gatherings, drop-ins and dinner parties, but always with others. Never alone.

Totally alone. Like now.

She gripped the brass doorknob tighter. “I thought you said we would be speaking tomorrow.”

The scent of the salty outdoor air clung to him, teasing her nose.

“My appointment took care of itself faster than I expected.” Palm flattened to the door frame, he looked past her shoulder into her condo. “We should step inside.”

Even fully covered in silky sleep pants and matching green paisley top, she was too aware of the nighttime, her PJs and him. “It’s polite to ask to be invited in rather than demand.”

His jaw flexed with irritation. “Let’s stop with the word games. We have important business to discuss.”

Of course, he was right. She just resented that he’d caught her unawares, dictating the time and manner of their meeting. “Come inside, then. But don’t get too comfortable. It’s been a long—” disappointing “—day. I’m tired.”

Careful to step well clear of him, she pressed her back against the hall rather than risk an accidental brush of her body and his. His uneven gait thudded against the freshly restored hardwood floors as he walked deeper into her condominium. She loved her two-bedroom haven full of character from the whitewashed brick walls to the soaring ceiling with exposed beams and a loft office. A wall of windows revealed the twinkling lights of the Tacoma skyline, historic Foss Waterway and a fog-ringed mountain in the distance.

Shrugging out of his trench coat, Carlos stopped just shy of her burgundy sofa, half in, half out of her place, much like he kept himself from committing to any people, emotions, relationships. “About Nancy—”

She cut him off with the wave of her hand. “I don’t care who you date.” And maybe if she kept saying it often enough, she would believe it. “That’s your business and has nothing to do with us. We were never a couple. You and I have nothing more to say to each other outside of hospital business until after the paternity test.”

“Nancy and I are not an item, never were,” he ignored her final jab, sticking to the point he seemed determined to press. “We had a couple of casual dates, and I’d already decided to break things off before today.”

“How convenient, but still not relevant.” She padded closer to him, her bare feet whispering along the cool, bare flooring. “If that’s all you came to say, then we’re done.”

She pointed to the door.

He flung aside his trench to rest on the back of a striped chair and clasped her wrist in a big but gentle grip. Silently, slowly, deliberately, he folded her arm back against her chest, which brought him closer to her. His eyes turned smoky with intensity….

And focused on her mouth.

Her heart somersaulted in her chest. “Don’t even go there, Carlos,” she warned, but didn’t pull away. “Any urge to kiss you evaporated once you refused to believe me about the pregnancy.”

Teasing his thumb along her speeding pulse, he stilled her again with his eyes. “I came here to tell you that I’m willing to entertain the possibility this could be my baby.”

The sensual tug, the raspy allure of his callused fingers on her skin sidetracked her, delaying her brain from absorbing his words for three, needy heartbeats.

Then awareness faded from her body as his words penetrated, followed by realization of the reason for his surprise visit. She leaned nearer, her br**sts so close to his chest a simple deep inhale could skim her tingling ni**les against him.

She kept her breathing shallow, even as she lowered her voice into a husky whisper sure to heat his exposed neck. “Got a sperm count check, did you? That was quick.”

A fleeting dry smile twitched his mouth. “It helps having connections in the medical world.”

Confirmation of her suspicion didn’t make her feel one bit better. He wasn’t here because he had a change-of-heart decision to trust her word. He’d gotten his proof. While she understood on an intellectual, practical level, she was currently feeling anything but sensible.

Let alone amenable.

“How nice for you.” She wrenched her wrist from his grip, wrapping her arms around herself and stalking to the window wall. “What a shock it must have been that you still have swimmers.”

“How nice that you find my medical history so amusing.”

“I don’t find any of this at all funny. Particularly your insinuations about my honesty earlier.” She half looked back at him over her shoulder. “Have you let your new girlfriend know?”

Ouch, she hadn’t meant to bring up the whole Nancy issue again and sound—God forbid—jealous. She looked away quickly before he could see any betraying emotions on her face.

His footsteps echoed behind her, closer, the sound and feel of him too familiar. “I told you already.” He stroked back her hair from her ear. “I broke things off with her.”

Goose bumps rose on her skin, twinkling boat lights on the water blurring as everything faded but the sound of his breathing, the light skim of his fingers. Good God, his surgeon hands had such a capacity for minute movements, meticulous attentiveness until he turned even an inch of her shoulder into a volatile erogenous zone.

“Well, she should know you can still—”

Her words hitched up short on her next breath, heat flooding through her body and pooling low. The crisp scent of him—night air and ocean breeze—drew nearer, stronger, until she flattened her hand against the cool windowpane to steady herself.