The Tycoon's Rebel Bride / The Billionaire's Unexpected Heir. Kathie DeNosky
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“You don’t want children?” he asked. He seemed surprised, but then he likely thought all women aspired to pop out a veritable brood as soon as they got a ring on their finger.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want them,” she replied calmly. “Let me guess, you’d want them immediately?”
He arched one brow. “We aren’t discussing me, but yes, I see no reason to wait.”
“That’s because you aren’t the one having them,” she said dryly.
For a moment it looked as though he would laugh, but then he waved his hand and urged her to continue with her wish list.
She pretended to consider for a moment. “I want him to be wealthier than I am so that my money is a nonissue.”
Theron nodded his agreement.
Then she let her voice drop, and she leaned forward. “I want him to burn for me, to not be able to go a day without touching me, holding me, caressing me. He’ll be an excellent lover. I want a man who knows how to please me,” she finished in a husky, longing-filled voice.
He stared at her, his eyes sharp. For a moment she imagined that there was answering passion in his eyes as they flickered over her exposed skin.
“Do you not agree that these are things I should expect?” she asked softly as she studied him.
He cleared his throat and looked briefly away. Was she affecting him at all or was he completely immune? No, there was something in his eyes. His entire body emanated sexual awareness. She might be young, but she wasn’t naive, and she certainly wasn’t stupid when it came to men. She’d had her share of interested parties. She could read harmless, flirty interest, and then there was the dark, brooding intensity of a man whose passions ran deep and powerful.
Never before had she felt the intense magnetism that existed between her and Theron. She’d spent years searching for something that even came close to the budding awareness that had begun in her teenage years.
She’d experimented with dates. Kisses, the clumsy groping that had inevitably led to her showing the guy the door. There was only one who ever came close to coaxing her to give him everything. In the end, it had been him who’d called a stop to their lovemaking. At the time, she’d been embarrassed and certain that she’d made some mistake. He’d kissed her gently, told her that he was greatly honored by the fact that he would be her first, but that perhaps she should save her gift for a man who held a special place in her heart.
Then, she’d seen it as a cop-out, a man running hard and fast from a woman who obviously equated sex with commitment or at least a deeper relationship. Now, she was just grateful that she hadn’t blithely given away her innocence. Travis was right. Her virginity was special, and she’d only give it to a special man.
She blinked again when she realized Theron was talking to her.
“I think you are wise to place emphasis on…these qualities,” he said uncomfortably. “You wouldn’t want a man who’d mistreat you in any way, and of course you’ll want someone who shares your vision of marriage and a family.”
“But you don’t think I should want a good lover?” she asked with one raised eyebrow.
His eyes gleamed in the flickering lamp situated in the middle of the table. Her breath caught and hung in her chest, painful as her throat tightened. She swallowed at the raw power radiating from him in a low, sensual hum.
“It would indeed be a shame if a man had no idea what to do with a woman such as yourself, Bella.”
He looked up in relief when the waiter came bearing the tray with their food. Isabella, on the other hand, cursed the timing.
Theron surprised her, however, when after the waiter retreated, he caught her eye and murmured in his sexy, accented voice, “Your mother died early in your childhood, did she not? Has there been no one else to speak to you about…men?”
She gaped at him in astonishment. Did he honestly think she’d reached the ripe old age of twenty-two without ever hearing the birds and the bees talk? She wasn’t sure who was more horrified, her or Theron. He looked uncomfortable, and hell, so was she.
Picking up her fork, she cut into her fish and speared a perfectly cooked piece. It hit her tongue, and she nearly sighed in appreciation. It was good, and she was starving.
Theron was clearly waiting on her to answer his question. His really ridiculous question aimed more at a fourteen-year-old, pimply faced girl than a twenty-two-year-old woman.
“If I say no, are you volunteering to head my education?” she asked with a flash of a grin.
He shot an exasperated grimace in her direction. “I’ll take that as a yes that someone has spoken to you of such matters.”
“Next you’ll be offering to buy my feminine products,” she muttered.
He choked on the sip of wine he’d just taken and hurriedly set the glass back down on the table. “You imp. It’s not polite to make someone laugh as they’re taking a drink.”
“I’ll remind you that you started this conversation,” she said dryly.
She watched him take a bite and then wipe his mouth with his napkin. He had really gorgeous lips. Perfect for kissing.
“So I did,” he said with a shrug. “I merely wondered if you’d spoken to another woman about men and husbands and of course which men make the best husbands.”
“And lovers,” she added.
“Yes, of course,” he said in resignation.
She sat back in her seat and stared at him in challenge. “You don’t want the woman you marry to be a good lover?”
He gave her what she could only classify as a look of horror. “No, I damn well do not expect my wife to be a good lover. It’s my duty to…” He broke off in a strangled voice. “We’re not discussing my future wife,” he said gruffly.
But her curiosity had been well and truly piqued. She sat forward, and placed her chin in one palm, her food forgotten. “It’s your duty to what?”
“This is not a conversation that is appropriate for us to have,” he said stiffly.
She sighed and nearly rolled her eyes. He sure didn’t mind playing the guardian card when it suited him, and the last thing she wanted was to plant any sort of parent role into his brain. But she desperately wanted to hear just what he considered his duty to be to the woman who’d share his bed.
“You’re my guardian, Theron. Who else can I talk to about such matters?”
He let out a long-suffering sigh and took another sip of his wine. “I don’t expect my wife to be sexually experienced when she comes to my bed. It’s my duty to awaken her passion and teach her everything she needs to know about…lovemaking.”
Isabella wrinkled her nose. “That sounds so medieval. Have you ever considered that she might teach you a thing or two?”