Page 47 of A Lone Star Love Affair
“Oh, sure,” he said. “No tomorrows. I’d like to share today with you. You’re already here, but I’d like you to move your things in.”
“Definitely not for so many reasons. Not in with you. Not you in with me. I have plans and that would not fit.”
“You don’t have to stay a long time. Move in for now. You’ll be free to go whenever you want.”
“Sorry. No. End of discussion.” She rolled over beside him and he pulled her close.
“I want you, Isabelle. I don’t give up easily or take no well.”
“I’ve already discovered that much about you.”
He pulled her close against him and held her. “We’ll discuss this some more tomorrow,” Tony said.
It was dawn before they finally stopped talking and fell asleep. Isabelle woke, stretched and looked around, turning more to look at Tony sprawled beside her. He was naked, his thick black curls tangled on his forehead. One arm was flung to one side. The sheet covered him from his hips to his feet.
Longing enveloped her as she looked at him, his chest rising and falling evenly. Tony, I love you, she mouthed, knowing she felt a love that wouldn’t be returned. Tony had gone as far as he would go by inviting her to move in with him. She could do that and hope the day would come when he would decide he wanted something more lasting.
In the silence of the room, with the only sound Tony’s steady breathing, she shook her head. She wanted so much more of him. She hadn’t been able to resist him and had yielded to the temptation of one more magical night with him, but that’s all she had ever intended it to be and all it would be.
She gazed at him, memorizing the sight of him, wanting to lean over to shower light kisses on him, certain if she did he would wake.
While she debated getting up, his arm went around her and he pulled her down, opening his eyes to focus on her. The minute she looked into his brown eyes, she saw desire that ignited her own longing.
He pulled her close against him, leaning over her to kiss her, a kiss that heightened her emotions. She wrapped her arms around him to kiss him in return and soon they were loving as if it were the first time instead of a morning after a passionate evening.
Over an hour later she called the office to say she would not be in. She made some arrangements and then broke the connection, turning to Tony, who had been kissing her nape, rubbing against her backside and fondling her breasts again.
“Tony, you need to call the office yourself. And I have to get my car. The bar will think they have an abandoned car in their lot and have it towed.”
“No, they won’t. I called my chauffeur last night and had him get a tow truck to take it to your house. It’s done.”
She rubbed her forehead. “You still haven’t called the office,” she said, surprised he was letting that go. “I don’t even remember my calendar for today.”
He snagged her wrist as she started to get out of bed. “Forget it. You made your call and you were efficient and if I had been on the other end of the line, I wouldn’t have suspected a thing.”
“Call the office. You’re shameless.”
He grinned and she had to laugh. He swooped over her and pushed her onto the bed to kiss her thoroughly. In minutes she held him tightly, forgetting about the office and phone calls and any demands besides Tony’s mouth and hands.
Hours later, Tony opened his eyes. Bright sunlight streamed into the room. He turned to look at Isabelle, who slept beside him. The sheet covered her to her shoulders. She lay on her side, facing him, one arm flung out across him, her silky blond hair fanned over the pillow and her shoulder and back, partially spilling over her face. He carefully combed it back from her face to look at her profile. He hadn’t told her she was the first woman he had ever asked to move in with him. He had moved in with a couple of women in his life, but the relationships hadn’t lasted and he had never expected them to. If he was the one to move in, he could move out when he so desired. By asking Isabelle to move in with him, he was offering an intimate arrangement, but it was far from offering marriage.
It wouldn’t be lasting with Isabelle, either. He wasn’t ready for commitment and that hadn’t changed. He felt driven to make billionaire while he was relatively young. It kept his father from meddling. It would give him all he wanted the rest of his life and he could take care of Sydney if he needed to. Any one of those reasons was enough to avoid a serious relationship for years longer.
At the same time, he wanted Isabelle in his life more than he had ever wanted any other woman. She would never ask him to move in with her, so he had to ask her. This was the only possible way to get her into his arms most nights. She was the most enticing, exciting woman he had ever known. He had let her slip out of his life once before. He didn’t intend to let that happen again for a long time. Would he be able to hold her? Would she stay if he couldn’t offer marriage?
He had never asked himself that question concerning a woman before. It had always been easy—the question not as important to him. Isabelle was different. The realization of how much she had wound herself into his life and how badly he wanted her around, shocked him. He wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be. He had guarded against that happening because he intended to reach his goals. Love wasn’t something that happened to him and he would know if it did. He had always been certain no one could fall in love against their own wishes. If she just weren’t so damned independent and had a goal of marriage by thirty. What woman in today’s world had a goal like that? Maybe more than he realized, because most of them probably wouldn’t tell. Could he think about extending his goal just a few years? Was it worth losing her to stubbornly stick to his original plan? To his disgust, that inability to yield or adjust did sound like his father’s influence and genes.
Tony looked at her, her flawless skin and long, pale lashes, her rosy mouth, the cascade of gorgeous hair that always captivated him. When desire stirred, he was torn between wanting to just look at her and making love to her. He didn’t think he would ever tire of gazing at her.
He wanted her to live with him and she wasn’t going to. He could feel the resolve behind her refusal. “Gorgeous woman,” he whispered, “I want you with me.” He pulled the sheet to her waist and drew a deep breath. Heat suffused him, and he was rampant with desire as he trailed his hand over her breasts and watched her stir.
He bent to kiss her. Her arm wound around his neck. Her blue eyes gazed up at him, sleep filled, coming awake, desire igniting. She was warm, relaxed, naked. He kissed her, caressing her and relishing rediscovery, wanting to stretch the day into days with her.
It was the middle of the afternoon before she sat in the bed with a sheet wrapped around her while she braided her hair. “Tony, I need to dress and go home.”
He lay with his hands behind his head, watching her. “I vote no to that one. Stay tonight. The day is gone, anyway, so why not?”
“Why not, indeed. Tony, this is sinful. We have been making love since last night. That’s just plain decadent.”
