The Oilman s Baby Bargain Page 4

  “Of course, you’ll be in charge of the household,” Mitch continued. “You’ll be responsible for the hiring and dismissal of the staff.”

  “Will I be allowed to decorate?” she asked.

  The question seemed to puzzle him. “Of course.”

  “I won’t need your approval for every little thing I do?”

  He looked confused. “Is there a reason you should?”

  She had just assumed that, like her father, Mitch would deem her untrustworthy or incapable. Or maybe he was just saying these things to lull her into a false sense of security. Maybe he would be an overbearing tyrant.

  And maybe you’re paranoid.

  “Other than the obvious financial requirements, is there anything specific that you expect from me?”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant by financial requirements. Did he think she would expect him to pay her a salary? “What ‘financial requirements’ are we talking about?”

  “Credit cards, cash. As I assured you, you won’t want for anything.”

  Despite what most people believed, she wasn’t the spoiled, pampered heiress they described in the society pages of the paper. Her father had always provided her with a generous allowance for clothing and essentials, but otherwise kept her on a pretty short fiscal leash. He monitored her credit card statements to be sure that she wasn’t spending his money on anything inappropriate, and he limited the amount of cash she was allowed. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to be financially independent, to not have someone scrutinizing her every move.

  “Come on,” he said. “There must be something you want.”

  If Mitch did give her financial freedom, maybe this marriage deal wouldn’t be quite as miserable as she’d expected.

  Though she was going to wait, he’d left the subject wide open, and she couldn’t resist dipping her toes in to test the waters. “What about children?”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, I know this is just a business arrangement, but I’ve always wanted kids.”

  The dark expression that spread across his face chilled her to her core. He shook his head and said, “I think that would be a bad idea.”

  Oh, this was not good.

  Maybe it was the act of conceiving the baby that he had a problem with. Maybe he no longer found her attractive. Their kiss after the vows couldn’t have been colder or more formal. Maybe she had been so terrible in bed that first time, he had no interest in a repeat performance.

  “If it’s the intimacy you’re concerned about,” she said, “there are other ways—”

  “It has nothing to do with that. I feel it would be unfair to bring a child into a loveless marriage.”

  Her stomach bottomed out. How would he feel if he didn’t have a choice in the matter? Would he insist on a divorce? Tell her father the truth about what happened in D.C.? Or even worse, would he disown his child? Then where would she be?

  A sense of panic filled her. There had to be a way to convince him, to make this right. “Maybe if we—”

  “No,” he said firmly, his mouth set in a stubborn line. “There is no maybe. I’ll give you anything you want, Lexi. Anything but this.”

  Just because they didn’t love each other, it didn’t have to mean their child wouldn’t be happy. Her mind worked frantically on a way to make him change his mind.

  What if she did everything he asked of her and became the perfect wife? Then would he accept the idea of having a child? But is that what she really wanted? To live a lie?

  At this point, did she even have a choice?

  Mitch felt slightly guilty for denying Lexi something she obviously longed for, but she would just have to get used to not getting everything her greedy little heart desired. He was sure that no matter how much she thought she wanted children, she had no idea what kind of responsibility it would be. He knew from experience that spoiled debutantes like her didn’t have time for anyone but themselves. She would grow tired of the burden, just as his mother had, and walk away. He refused to allow his child to grow up unable to count on the one person who was supposed to provide unconditional love.

  They endured the remainder of the nine-hour flight engaged in occasional strained small talk, with Mitch always initiating the conversation. The way she had talked nonstop in D.C., he could only assume that she was now giving him the silent treatment. She probably wasn’t accustomed to people not catering to her every whim.

  Well, she would have to get used to it. He didn’t intend to deny her happiness, but he wasn’t about to pamper or spoil her, either. It was time she began living in the real world.

  After a brief layover in London, which Lexi spent the majority of in the ladies’ room, they boarded a flight for Athens. Lexi fell asleep the minute the wheels left the tarmac and didn’t wake until they landed. A limo met them outside the airport to bring them to the port of Lavrio where they boarded the small passenger ship that would take them to the island of Tzia.

  Two hours later, and sixteen hours after they left Houston, they finally arrived at the villa where they would spend the next week. About half a mile east, he could see rows of densely built houses that looked like windowed shoe boxes clinging to the steep slope that bordered the village of Loulida, and nothing but open countryside for at least half a mile in every other direction. When Lexi said the area was secluded, he hadn’t realized just how alone they would be.

  Mitch let Lexi have the top-level master suite and took one of the three guest bedrooms on the ground floor for himself. It was more than enough space for him, and a large sliding glass door conveniently led to the swimming pool, hot tub and pool house, where he guessed he would be spending much of his time. Just off the bedrooms was a spacious living room with a full bar and plush, comfortable-looking furniture. The middle floor held a modern and well-equipped kitchen with an adjoining dining room, while another comfortable sitting room led to the main terrace and the barbecue area.

  The interior was a combination of vibrant colors and innovative designs that could have very comfortably housed half a dozen people or more. His preference would have been a place that was smaller, and more intimate. But someone like Lexi would want the biggest and most luxurious lodging available. Although he was a bit surprised that she hadn’t hired a full staff to cater to her. She hadn’t even arranged for a chef or a maid.

  “I think I’ll lie down for a while,” she said, when he carried her luggage to her room for her. She was still looking a little green, and he couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. He had never been one to suffer from motion sickness, but from the looks of it, the last day had been hell.

  “Can I bring you anything?” he asked. “Something to eat? A cup of tea?”

  “I think I just need to sleep for a while,” she said, but looked at him a little funny, as though she couldn’t figure out why he was being so nice to her.

  That makes two of us, sweetheart. Must be jet lag, or temporary insanity.

  “I’ll be in my room unpacking if you need me,” he told her, then he left her room, closing the door behind him. Something seemed different. Lexi was acting almost…humbled.

  He shook his head. It was probably just due to the fact that she was feeling sick. He was sure she would be back to her entitled, narcissistic self by tomorrow.

  As he walked to his room he pulled out his cell and dialed his brother, and though it was barely 7:00 a.m. in Texas, he answered on the first ring.

  “You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon,” Lance said.

  “I am.”

  “Then why the hell are you calling me?”

  “I just wondered if there’s anything new from Darius about the fire. Anything pointing to Alex Montoya.”

  “Nothing since you left, which was less than twenty-four hours ago. And if I do hear something, I’ll let you know.”

  In other words, don’t call me, I’ll call you. “If there are any problems at the office—”

  “Mitch, forget about work and enjoy
yourself. You’re on your honeymoon. Go seduce your wife or something.”

  “You know as well as I do that it isn’t that kind of marriage.”

  “You’re a newlywed, and the way I look at it, that gives you certain rights. Like sex with your new wife on your wedding night. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”

  Mitch knew that firsthand, but the question was, how did Lance? Then he realized: Lance must have slept with her when they were engaged.

  Lexi certainly hadn’t wasted any time hopping from one brother’s bed to the next, he thought wryly. Maybe to her, it was just a game. Some kind of twisted challenge. At least Mitch knew for a fact that he had been first. And according to Lexi, that was exactly the way she’d planned it. What she hadn’t counted on was Lance dumping her for someone else.

  “I felt kind of sorry for her yesterday,” Lance said.

  “Why?”

  “Having only her assistant at her wedding. You would think her father would have the decency to show.”

  “He’s a busy man.”

  “Too busy to see his only child get married? Would you miss your daughter’s wedding?”

  No, but then, he wouldn’t be having a daughter, or a son. He would just have to be content spoiling the children that he was sure Lance and Kate would have. “I’m sure the senator had his reasons.”

  “That doesn’t make it any less lousy.”

  Mitch couldn’t help thinking she got exactly what she deserved.

  After he hung up with his brother, Mitch took a long, hot shower to wash away the travel grit, then collapsed naked between the cool silk sheets. He decided he would sleep for an hour or so, then get up and make them something to eat. But when he opened his eyes again the sun had already set, and the room was dark but for the light in the hallway shining through the open door.

  Hadn’t he closed the door before he’d lain down? He was almost positive he had. In fact, he was positive.

  Then he saw a silhouette move across the room. He jerked up on his elbows, groggy and alarmed, but as his eyes adjusted, he realized the form was female. And not just any female.

  It was Lexi.

  Five

  L exi crossed the room to Mitch’s bed wearing a floor-length, low-cut, white silk nightgown that shimmered in the light. Her pale hair lay in soft waves across her shoulders, cascading down to the swell of her breasts.

  For a second he wondered if he was dreaming. What reason would she possibly have to be in his room? Was she sick? Or plotting to smother him with his pillow?

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

  “Nothing is wrong.”

  Relieved, he dropped his head back down on the bed. “What are you doing in here?”

  “This is officially our wedding night,” she said.

  Yeah, so? he thought, unsure of the significance. Then she lifted the gown up over her head and dropped it to the floor. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Now he knew he had to be dreaming. But as she slipped between the sheets beside him, her body warm and soft against his, it was too vivid, too fantastic to be anything but real. Nothing about this made any sense.

  “This wasn’t part of the deal,” he reminded her.

  She leaned on one elbow, gazing down at him. In the dim light she looked like an angel, when he knew for a fact she was actually a devil in disguise. “I know.”

  She laid her hand on his chest, lightly stroking his skin, and his body responded instantly. She was obviously willing, so why couldn’t he shake the feeling that something wasn’t right? Why did he feel guilty, as though he was forcing her?

  “We don’t have to,” he said, even though he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through the silky ribbons of her hair and pull her down for a long, deep kiss. He didn’t want her to feel as though she owed him, or was somehow obligated.

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, and in that instant he had never seen a woman look more vulnerable or insecure. Deep inside of him something hard and unyielding softened a bit around the edges. Was it possible that she wasn’t as confident and fearless as she liked people to believe?

  She pulled her hand away and said, “We won’t if you don’t want to.”

  Was she serious? He couldn’t think of a single other thing he would rather be doing. He took her by the wrist and guided her hand under the covers to his erection. “Does it feel like I don’t want to?”

  A smile crept across her face as she wrapped her hand around him and squeezed. The sensation was so erotic he nearly lost it.

  “I want you, Mitch,” she whispered.

  That was all the convincing he needed. He caught her behind the neck, pulled her to him and kissed her.

  One second Lexi was lying across Mitch’s chest as he tangled his fingers through her hair and ravaged her mouth, and the next she was flat on her back on the bed looking up at him. The change of position was so swift it left her breathless and dizzy. Or maybe it was his kisses that were doing that. She just prayed, as he pressed his weight against her, caressing her skin with his hands and his mouth, that he didn’t feel her trembling. She didn’t want him to know how terrified she had been that he might reject her. She had no clue how to play the role of vixen, how to be the aggressor, but if she was going to convince him this was a real marriage, if she was going to make him fall in love with her, she had to play the part. What kind of wife would she be if she didn’t please her husband sexually? Especially on their wedding night.

  Although right now, he seemed to be the one doing all the pleasing, and she had almost forgotten how impossibly wonderful it felt to be close to him. How he made her feel as though she was the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.

  “I thought we were keeping this relationship outside the bedroom,” he said, nibbling his way down her throat. On the contrary, it was her intention to keep him in bed as much as humanly possible while they were in Greece.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” he added. “Just mildly confused.”

  “We both have needs,” she said. “I figure, if we have to be stuck with each other, why not enjoy it?”

  He grinned down at her. “Lexi, isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  “You know what I think?” she asked, and his brow perked with curiosity. “I think you talk too much.”

  His grin turned feral. “And I like the way you think.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her for a slow, deep kiss. They caressed and touched each other until she felt as though she would go out of her mind. She wanted him inside her so badly, she actually ached.

  “Make love to me,” she told him. “Right now.”

  Mitch looked up from the nipple he’d been teasing with his tongue. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”

  “Maybe you could do it a little faster?”

  “What’s the hurry?”

  All she knew was that it felt as though there was a big empty space inside of her that she was desperate to fill. He must have seen the desperation on her face because he opened the drawer on the bedside table and pulled out a condom. At her questioning look he said, “Doesn’t hurt to come prepared.”

  She didn’t tell him there was no point, that the damage was already done.

  He rolled it on, then entered her with one slow but purposeful thrust. She gasped at the stinging sensation as her body stretched to accept him.

  Concern filled his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she lied, because it was a good hurt. Since that night at the hotel, she’d had the constant and nagging feeling that something was missing. She had felt…incomplete. Now, with their bodies joined, she finally felt whole again.

  She arched up, taking him even deeper inside of her, wrapping her legs around his waist. Mitch groaned and grasped the bedcovers. It gave her a thrilling sense of power to know that he was losing control, and she was making it happen.

  He rolled over so that she was on top, straddling him, their
bodies still joined. Now that she was up here, she was unsure of what to do. What if she did it wrong and made a fool of herself? What if she was clumsy and awkward, and couldn’t satisfy him? “Mitch, I don’t—”

  “Yes, you do,” he said, as though he had complete confidence in her. “Just do what feels good.”

  She braced her hands on the mattress on either side of him and rose up, but she went too far and he slipped out. She made a noise of frustration, but Mitch didn’t seem to mind.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, guiding himself back in like it was no big deal. This time he rested his hands on her hips to guide her. “Take it slow.”

  She began to move slowly, eyes closed in concentration. At first, she was so afraid to make a mistake, focused so completely on her every move, she wasn’t able to let herself enjoy it.

  “Relax,” he said, arching his hips up to meet her downward thrusts. They slipped into a slow, steady rhythm, and she began to lose herself in the sensation, in the sweet friction, until it began to feel as natural as breathing.

  This was the way she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Acting on impulse, living by instinct. Doing things just because they felt good.

  “Open your eyes,” Mitch said, and when she did, when she looked down at him, she could see that he was barely hanging on.

  With his eyes locked on hers, he reached down to where their bodies met and stroked her. Pleasure rippled through her from the inside out and an orgasm that was almost shocking in its intensity locked her muscles. She threw her head back and rode out the sensation, and through a haze she heard Mitch groan, felt him tense beneath her, his fingers digging into her skin.

  Limp with satisfaction, Lexi collapsed against his chest, their hearts pounding out a frantic beat together. It just kept getting better and better. She had never felt as close to anyone in her life as she did to Mitch tonight.

  This was going to work, she assured herself. Everything was going to be fine. But as he rolled her over and began kissing her, making love to her all over again, she couldn’t help feeling like a fraud.