Free The Blackmail Pregnancy by Melanie Milburne Page B

pressure of his lips when he felt her response. He scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her upstairs to the bedroom, his eyes never once leaving hers.
    She explored the depth of his gaze with her own. Words weren’t necessary as he laid her on the big bed and reached to loosen his tie. She watched him undress with a steady purpose that secretly excited her. His eyes burned with a heat she could see reflected in his aroused body and her breath hitched in her throat as he came towards her.
    He removed her clothes with that same calm intent, laying each article aside as if it were a piece of delicate, fragile lace. His unhurried approach incited her desire as no heady, hasty grasp for fulfillment could do. His eyes caressed every inch of her as he uncovered her, and when she was finally naked he lowered himself and gathered her into his arms.
    His mouth took her on a journey of sensuality, leaving no part of her unbranded by his lips or tongue. Her pleasure knew no bounds; her body writhed with contortions of ecstasy, her high, panting cries filling the night air.
    He waited until she’d come back to earth before taking his own pleasure. She held him to her, thrilling in the sound of his guttural groan of release, glorying in the collapse of his large body over hers, his ragged breathing filling her ears.
    Cara lay in Byron’s arms while he drifted off to sleep and thought about the future months. He wanted a child; he didn’t want her other than in a physical sense as a means to bringing about that particular goal. But it wasn’t going to happen. What place in his life would she have when he finally found out the truth? Would he cut her out of his life altogether?
    He’d made it clear he wasn’t after a long-term commitment; she couldn’t really blame him for feeling that way considering the bitter break up they’d experienced. What man in his right mind would? She knew she was living a lie, but somehow couldn’t stop herself. Being in his arms once again was somehow helping her to lay the past to rest. She only hoped he would find it in himself to forgive her when he found out the truth.
    She wondered what had happened to Megan. Had he had a brief affair with her and then moved on? Or was she still somewhere waiting in the wings for him?
    Cara carefully shifted herself away from Byron’s loose hold and, turning to stare at the wall, sighed wearily. Sleep was far away. Her body felt exhausted but her mind was unable to let go of the images that tortured her in her quietest moments. Images of her mother screaming at her—hair wild, eyes drug-glazed—her embittered words like shards of glass tearing at Cara’s tender flesh. Words delivered with one purpose and one purpose only—to inflict as much pain as possible.
    As a young child Cara remembered being bewildered and frightened by her mother’s sudden outbursts, but over time she’d learnt to block them out. She’d taught herself to shut her mind to the rage being played out in front of her, disciplining herself to think of another place or time where she was safe. She’d retreated into herself, imagining herself as someone else, someone who didn’t have a dysfunctional mother who loathed the very air she breathed.
    After another hour of fighting with the nightmares in her head Cara gave up trying to sleep. She slipped out of the bed, being as careful as she could not to disturb Byron’s sleeping form. She slipped on her bathrobe and tiptoed out of the room.
     

    He found her standing at the window in one of the spare bedrooms, the soft glow of moonlight casting a ghostly image over her expressionless face. Her slender figure was without movement. At first he wondered if she were still asleep. He’d heard somewhere that troubled people often walked in their sleep.
    ‘Cara?’
    He touched her gently on the shoulder and felt her flinch. He dropped his hand and sighed.
    ‘Can’t you sleep?’
    She turned to look at him, her eyes