Blackhawk's Sweet Revenge. Barbara McCauley
Heard the disgust in her voice when she’d told him to keep away from her.
His jaw tightened. Twenty years had certainly changed nothing for Julianna Hadley. She still thought herself too good for him, probably for any man. Why else had she never married?
Of course, he’d never married, either, but that was a different matter entirely. He’d had a goal, one goal only, and a wife would have been an encumbrance. Very few women would have tolerated the eighteen-hour, seven-day weeks for long. In the few relationships he’d had, he’d made it perfectly clear from the start there was no wedding ring in sight, no children, no happily-ever-after. The few who’d thought to change that had been sorely mistaken. They’d quickly learned that tears and tantrums had no effect on him. If anything, they only irritated him.
But maybe now was the time to consider changing his marital status, he thought. It wasn’t that he was thinking of settling down exactly. It just might be easier to know where he’d be parking his boots at night, and would certainly erase the necessity of finding a partner in bed.
He wondered briefly who, if anyone, parked his boots under Julianna Hadley’s bed at the moment. Wondered if that bed was as cold as the woman.
A knock at the door brought his head around. He’d ordered dinner from room service, preferring the quiet of his room to the noisy restaurant downstairs. He’d wanted to be alone tonight. To think about Hadley. Savor his victory.
So why, then, had he been thinking about Julianna?
And why, when he opened the door, was she standing there?
Her light blond hair was damp, pulled back into a severe ponytail. Rain glistened on her sculptured cheeks and dark, thick eyelashes; drops clung to the shoulders of her long tan trench coat. The black turtleneck underneath emphasized her pale skin and big blue eyes. The effect was stunning, and his gut clenched at the sight of her. A woman like this knew how beautiful she was, knew the effect she had on men. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of anything but cool indifference.
Chin raised, lips pressed tightly together, she clutched a small black purse. “May I come in?”
He looked down the hallway. It was empty, quiet. No lights on the elevator signaling anyone else was coming.
“I’m alone,” she said. “But if you’re not, if you have company—”
“What are you doing here, Julianna?”
“I need to speak with you, Lucas. I have to—”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
His hand snaked out, dragged her inside the hotel room and pushed her back against the now closed door.
“Is this when you start screaming?” he asked roughly. “Maybe someone with a camera breaks the door down? Or another ‘guest’ just happens to be walking by, someone who will claim I attacked you?”
Eyes wide, she shook her head. “I’m alone,” she said breathlessly. “And you have attacked me. Now let me go.”
He smiled slowly, kept his hands firmly against the door, holding her trapped between his arms. He saw the fear flicker in her blue-gray eyes, but she didn’t fight him, didn’t push him away.
He told himself it was to intimidate her, not please himself when he leaned in closer. She’d brought the storm in with her. He smelled it on her, resisted the urge to dip his head lower and press his lips to the pulse beating rapidly at the base of her neck. “Has your father sent you to seduce me, Julianna? Convince me to change my mind?”
He saw the anger now, the subtle narrowing of her eyes, the tight press of her tempting lips. “My father doesn’t know I’m here.”
His laugh was dry. “You’re good, Julianna,. Real good. I almost believe you.”
“It’s true. No one except Lily at the front desk knows I’m here. I told her we had a meeting, that you were expecting me.”
“Lies come easy to the Hadleys, don’t they?” She was a head shorter than him, but still tall for a woman, and she kept her gaze steady with his. “I wouldn’t mind if you seduced me, Jule. I’ll bet when the Ice Princess steps off her throne, she heats up fast.”
Her eyes closed, but not before he saw a shimmer there. Certainly not tears, Lucas thought. Not from Julianna Hadley.
A knock at the door had them both jumping. Her eyes flew open in panic.
“No one knows you’re here, huh?” He took her chin in his hand. “Don’t you need to tear your clothes or something, mess that perfect hair, cry?”
“Room service,” a young, enthusiastic voice boomed from the other side of the door.
She glared at him, knocked his hand away, then turned her back and stepped out onto the open balcony.
Dammit. Lucas jerked open the door, bit back the urge to yell. What the hell, he thought, tolerating the young man’s cheerful greeting and food setup. Maybe he did need a minute to compose himself, to control the unexpected and unwanted response he’d had to Julianna. In fact, maybe he needed two minutes.
Julianna forced herself to take slow breaths. She focused on the curtain of water falling from the canopy over the balcony, told herself it was the moist cold that had her shaking, not Lucas’s manhandling. His behavior was no less than she’d expected, certainly no less than she deserved. After what her father had put him through, why wouldn’t he hate her, too?
At least he hadn’t thrown her out. Yet. If only he would listen to her, believe her, then maybe, just maybe, she could save the only thing in the world that mattered to her.
“It’s cold out here.”
She turned at the sound of his voice, hugged her coat tighter when he stepped closer. Too close. “Lucas, I need to speak with you.”
He took hold of her hand, held firm when she attempted to pull away. “Does it hurt?”
“Hurt?” she repeated mindlessly. His fingers were long, callused, warm over her own.
He turned her palm up, circled the rough pad of his thumb over the sensitive, smooth flesh. “You cut yourself today. On the broken cup.”
“A scratch, that’s all.” Every nerve in her palm and up her arm came alive at Lucas’s touch. Unable to stop herself, she trembled.
“You’re freezing. Come inside.”
She shook her head, pulled her hand away. “This won’t take long. I just have to—”
“Julianna.” He frowned darkly. “Unless you’re planning to throw yourself off this balcony in a supreme sacrifice for your father, get inside now.”
She almost laughed at the absurdity of his statement, but under the circumstances, thought it best to simply do as he asked. No, she corrected, brushing past him into the living area of the suite. As he’d demanded.
She jumped when he moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Just taking your coat.” He tightened his hold, then added, “For now.”
Bristling, she held on to her coat. “I’m not staying.”
“Oh, but you are.” His hands stayed on her shoulders. “I insist.”
She knew it would be useless to argue, that he would probably only enjoy it if she did. She let him take her coat, then stepped away. The wonderful scent of oregano and basil filled the room, but her stomach only clenched at the smell of food. “Your dinner will get cold”
“Shall I order you something?” He tossed her coat over a barstool. “The food is excellent here. Especially the shrimp Alfredo and the chicken Madeira.”
She wondered how he would know that. He’d only been here since this afternoon. Long enough to turn her world