Читать книгу Fired by Her Fling - Christy McKellen - Страница 9
ОглавлениеHe stayed talking with her for another hour after her crazy friend had left, enjoying her company more and more as she seemed to relax with him.
They chatted about everything and nothing; he teased her about her love of nineties music, which she countered by turning her nose up at his obsession with trad jazz. They discussed their favourite books from childhood, his passion for following Formula One racing and her seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of art-house films.
Despite her reluctance to leave with her friends, Tristan had a strong suspicion that picking up random guys in a pub wasn’t Lu’s usual modus operandi. There was something too reserved about her to make him believe she did this kind of thing on a regular basis. He loved the fact she was clearly making a special effort for him—he hadn’t felt that wanted in a while—but unfortunately it pointed towards the possibility that she’d expect more from this encounter than he was able to give.
She was a sexy and engaging woman and he could imagine she’d be incredible in bed but he probably shouldn’t push for anything to happen between them.
He didn’t do one-night stands. And he didn’t need any complications while he was here. As soon as this radio station mess was resolved he’d be on the first plane back to Edinburgh—back to running the family business that his father had now totally lost interest in.
He drained the last of his third bottle of beer. ‘I should probably go,’ he said gently.
The look of bewildered disappointment, which she quickly forced into an unconcerned smile, made his heart do a slow dive. She clearly didn’t want this encounter to end and, if he was totally honest, neither did he.
‘No problem,’ she said, knocking back the last of her wine and placing the glass onto the bar.
He noticed, with a jolt of surprise, that her hand seemed to be trembling.
‘I really should get going too. Things to do tomorrow.’ She gave him a false bright smile.
‘Are you going to catch up with your friends?’
‘Nah. I don’t think I should drink any more.’
He nodded. ‘Very sensible.’
Huffing out a laugh, she swept her hand through her heavy blunt-cut fringe. ‘That’s me, Level-headed Louise.’ She slung her bag across her shoulder and straightened her top. Looking back up at him, she cracked a rueful smile. ‘I’ll walk out with you.’
They exited into the cool spring London air, the fume-filled, peppery scents of the city twanging at his senses.
He was painfully aware of her there next to him and acutely conscious that once she walked away the chances of ever seeing her again were practically non-existent. It seemed such a pity when there was such intense chemistry between them.
They came to a stop outside the pub and he put a hand onto her shoulder, feeling the silky material of her top slip beneath his fingers. Her skin was warm beneath his touch and he wanted to leave it there, revelling in the delicate heat of her for a while longer.
She looked up at him questioningly, her bright, open gaze drawing him in deeper. He was utterly mesmerised by the sweet, vulnerable expression on her face.
Neither of them moved as they gazed into each other’s eyes, caught in an inexplicable connective tension that made it impossible for him to turn away from her. This had never happened to him before—this strange, undeniable pull—and it made him weirdly nervous.
He finally found his voice. ‘Look, Lu, I think you’re a very attractive woman and far be it from me to deny you the chance to find out whether your theory about men with glasses is correct, but I should probably do the gentlemanly thing and flag you down a cab.’
‘Yeah, that would be the sensible thing to do,’ she murmured in that tormenting voice of hers, still looking him dead in the eye.
Something tugged low and hard, deep in his pelvis. Ah, boy, it was going to be painfully difficult to walk away from her and go back to his cold, empty hotel room when she was looking at him like that. He wanted to gather her in to him and kiss the life out of her. To lose himself in her warmth, to forget about all the responsibilities that waited for his attention in the real world.
‘I’ve really enjoyed meeting you tonight,’ he said, his voice coming out husky and rough.
Her smile was faltering. ‘It was lovely to meet you too.’ Putting both hands on his chest, she pressed them into him, as if attempting to osmose her sincerity, digging her fingertips gently into his pecs.
His body gave a disturbing throb as everything from his taste buds to the soles of his feet responded to her. Taking a deep breath and putting his hands over the top of hers, he tilted his head in a show of regret. ‘In another universe we’d have an amazing night together.’
She pinched her eyebrows together, her voluptuous mouth turning down at the corners, and took her hands away, dropping them to her sides.
The loss of her touch disturbed him more than it should have.
‘You don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Or a wife?’ The idea seemed to horrify her. It horrified him too. He was never getting married. Not when he’d repeatedly seen how miserable it could make you.
Shaking his head, he gave Lu an amused smile. ‘Neither. But I have a lot of work to do tonight.’ It sounded so pathetic when he said it out loud. Was he really going to work instead of spending more time with this fascinating, capricious woman?
He took a breath, aware she was looking at him with justifiable scepticism. ‘The thing is, I’m only here in London—’ But he didn’t get to finish his sentence because she reached up to lay one of her small, cool hands against his neck and draw his head down to her lush, waiting mouth.
Her lips were warm and soft against his and he closed his eyes reflexively, drinking in the erotic intimacy of her touch. Barely a second later she drew back and he blinked his eyes open and stared at her, taking in her own surprise at the unexpectedly audacious action.
‘I just needed to do that,’ she whispered in that taunting voice of hers.
All the arguments that had previously filtered through his mind evaporated into the sultry night air along with his resolve as he lost the tenuous grip on his control. Moving quickly towards her, he recaptured her soft, wine-scented mouth with his.
She let out a deep, low moan in the back of her throat, the sexy desperation of it nearly undoing him and he darted his tongue into her mouth, tasting the sweetness of her.
He stopped her from stumbling backwards by putting his hands on her hips and pulling her roughly towards him, pressing their bodies close together. She responded by sliding her arms around his waist and kissing him back with a ferocity that made his whole body tighten with lust.
A pulse-quickening notion of what could happen if they didn’t stop this ran through his head: him leading her back to his hotel across the road, them kissing fiercely in the elevator as they travelled up to the fourth floor, stumbling into his room, already tugging each other’s clothes off as they tried to make it to the bed before they lost all control and ended up in a sweaty, writhing mess on the floor.
He could see it all unfold—practically taste it—but he shouldn’t let that happen.
Should he?
She slipped her hands under his jacket and dragged her nails down his back, leaving tingling lines of sensation across his skin.
His body responded immediately and she gasped against his mouth as his arousal made itself known between the press of their bodies.
She ground herself harder against him, her soft, flowery scent pummelling his senses, and he wondered hazily why exactly he thought it was a good idea to stop this. Work and a failed relationship weren’t decent enough excuses to ruin a perfectly good opportunity for one night of pleasure with a beautiful stranger; a stranger currently intent on seducing him with her cool wandering hands and small muffled moans of pleasure.
He could really use some light relief from the soberness of his life right now.
Sod it. He wanted this. She clearly wanted this. It was happening.
* * *
Lula barely took in the luxury of her surroundings as Tristan guided her into his hotel room, continuing the mind-blowing kiss they’d been unable to resist in the elevator on their way up there.
She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was mightily glad it was. The alcohol had given her wings and when he’d looked at her with such heat in his eyes she’d not been able to stop herself from reaching up and kissing him.
She’d never felt so attractive, so desired before and the thought of walking away from that feeling had been unimaginable.
Clearly it had been for him too, because he’d responded immediately to her brazen gesture, dragging her against his rock-hard body in a possessive gesture that made her feel so wanted.
That was the moment that undid her—when every other thought and consideration flew right out of her head and all her nerves and reticence disappeared in a puff of lust.
There was something so freeing about letting herself go with him—about not worrying what he thought of her as she ran her hands all over his body, or made the low breathy sounds that came from deep within her throat.
For the first time in a long time she felt empowered and sexy and alive.
She needed this right now. So badly.
Raising her arms, she let him drag her top up over her head and drop it on the floor by their feet, moving swiftly round to fiddle with the clasp of her bra until it pinged loose and he discarded that too.
‘You have magnificent breasts, Louise,’ he growled, dropping to his knees and taking one of her nipples into his mouth, tugging on it gently with his teeth before swirling his tongue around the swollen areola.
She only just stopped herself from correcting him on her name as sensational pleasure ripped through her body, centring where his mouth locked against her breast, his lips and teeth teasing at her skin.
Louise was her name tonight. Louise was a beguiling, sexually assertive woman she didn’t recognise, but tonight she was going to possess her body and mind for her own pure, selfish pleasure.
Skimming his hands round from where they rested on her hips, Tristan fiddled with the button of her jeans until they popped open and he was able to ease down the zip and slide the heavy material down her legs to the floor. He helped her step out of her heels, looking up and flashing her such a sensual smile that her whole body gave a throb of longing.
Grasping his head in her hands, she drew him upwards, back to standing so she could kiss him hard. She needed to even things up here, to give as well as take, before she lost her nerve.
‘I want to feel you—against me,’ she muttered against his mouth.
She felt him smile, and the next second she was left gaping in a chasm of cool air as he stepped back to yank off his tie, then pull his shirt—still buttoned—over his head.
Dropping them onto the floor, he gave her a teasing come-hither look and she stepped forwards to put the palms of her trembling hands against the amazing honed plane of his chest.
Her breath caught in her throat as she fully took in the hard contours of his body.
He definitely worked out.
‘I’ve never seen a six-pack in real life before,’ she said, glancing up at him and attempting to smile without looking like a total goof.
He was staring down at her, the heat and intensity of his arousal plain in his eyes.
Her stomach did a disconcerting swoop.
‘Come here.’ He dragged her against him and their bodies clashed and melded together, the heat of his bleeding into hers in glorious waves.
Then his mouth was hot and hard on hers again, his tongue darting into her mouth, tickling her sensitised lips and sweeping her teeth, probing and pushing, deeper and more insistently than before.
She wanted that tongue on her skin. Everywhere.
But first she was going to give him a taste of his own delicious medicine.
It took a moment of fumbling before she managed to open the clasp of his trousers, but then she was free to slide them down his muscular legs. He toed off his shoes and she watched him quickly discard the rest of his clothes until he towered over her totally naked, looking like some biologically perfect specimen of man.
His hair was mussed now where she’d run her hands through it and his glasses glinted in the soft light of the lamp he’d left on. There was something obscenely hot about him wearing only a pair of glasses and a grin and she shivered in lust-fuelled anticipation.
Pushing him against the wall, she ran her hands all over the hard contours of his chest, taking in the defined lines of his muscles and the contrasting soft sleekness of his skin. The naked power of him made her faintly jittery, but she knew she was safe with him.
She trusted him and he appeared to trust her.
The fact he was letting her push him around like this was a huge boost to her confidence. He wasn’t just taking what he wanted; he was waiting to see what she gave him.
Something about that made her intensely happy. She’d never experienced this feeling of sexual control with a man before and because he was allowing her to take the lead, her nerves had now completely vanished.
It was encouraging and very, very hot.
Sliding her hand down his body, she found his hard shaft hovering against his belly and tickled her fingertips over the head, smiling to herself as she heard his sharp intake of breath. Wrapping her hand around him, she moved it against him in slow, fluid strokes, dropping her head at the same time to place soft, teasing kisses against his solid chest, twisting her tongue against his nipples then stretching up to lick the hard lines of his collarbone and dip into the hollows of his neck.
His skin was the perfect mixture of sweet and salty and her mouth watered in response to the dual tang as she swept her tongue over him.
‘I want to eat you up, you’re so delicious,’ she murmured against his skin and felt his chest expand and contract as he laughed quietly.
She spent some time exploring his broad torso with her lips and tongue, all the while keeping up a steady rhythm with her hand. Her breath came hot and fast, leaving a faint mist of moisture on his skin where she played her mouth against him. She could hear his breathing, deep and ragged in his chest as she worked him over.
‘Lu...’ His voice came out as a ragged plea.
‘Yes?’ Her own sounded just as distorted.
‘I can’t take much more of this kind of manhandling. You’re gonna have to stop if you don’t want this to be over too soon.’
‘Okay...’ she whispered, tightening her hand around him for one last teasing squeeze.
Half groaning, half laughing, Tristan slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her against him, the hardness of his arousal pressing with excruciating pleasure against the zingy heat between her legs as he carried her over to the king-sized bed.
Lowering her onto it, he bent to kiss her mouth hard before making his way south, roaming over the highly stimulated skin of her breasts again—lingering there for a minute until she thought she might come just from the attention he was giving them—before moving lower.
Her body throbbed in anticipation as he slid her knickers down her legs, then stooped to run his tongue around the exposed triangle between her thighs, skimming the most sensitive parts of her until she almost screamed with the need for him to touch and lick here there.
When he eventually did, it was as if he’d zapped her with a live wire of pure pleasure and instinctively she raised her hips off the bed to press herself harder against him.
Never had she felt so on the edge of control. And it felt goooood.
He used gentle, sweeping strokes on her, over and over bringing her closer, exquisitely closer to the edge of orgasm. But she wanted more.
What would Louise say to get what she wanted?
‘I want you inside me,’ she whispered, hoping she’d said it loudly enough for him to hear. He stopped what he was doing and moved up the bed, trailing kisses along her skin, nipping once at each nipple before kissing her full on the mouth again.
She needed her control back. Right now.
‘On your back,’ she demanded, twisting out from under him and shoving against one shoulder to tip him into the position she wanted him.
He landed on his back and raised an amused eyebrow at her, a faint smile playing around his mouth.
‘Who’d have thought someone so petite could be so domineering,’ he said, sliding a hand into her hair to draw her mouth down to his.
‘Small but determined, that’s me,’ she said, once she’d finished kissing him.
‘I can see that.’ The look in his eyes told her he was totally fine with it too.
‘Wait here,’ she said, backing off the bed and hurrying over to where her clothes lay on the other side of the room.
Jeez, the suite was enormous. It must be costing a few bob to stay here. He must be into some serious business to afford it.
Pushing the errant thought out of her mind, she located her handbag and rummaged in one of the inside pockets, pulling out tissues, café loyalty cards and hair bobbles until she found what she was looking for.
Turning back to the bed, she saw Tristan had propped himself up on his elbows and was watching her with interest. She waved her loot in the air in a show of triumph.
‘You carry your own condoms?’
She shrugged, suddenly painfully conscious of how it might look. ‘Sure, why not? It’s just as much my responsibility as yours,’ she mumbled.
Her spirits rose as he gave her an impressed look and nodded slowly. ‘I’m beginning to like you, Louise,’ he said, and she very nearly corrected him again.
No, Lula, stay in character.
Climbing back onto the bed, she straddled his legs and slid her way back up his body, dragging her nipples against his shins, over his knees and thighs, then cupping her breasts together with one hand to trap the hard length of his shaft between them. He groaned as she slid him back and forth between the soft cushions, propping herself up on one arm and lazily running her tongue over the peaks and troughs of his abs at the same time.
She paused what she was doing as he slid his hands into her hair and began to stroke his fingers gently against her scalp in rhythm with the movement.
It was a beautifully intimate thing for him to do and an unexpected swell of emotion expanded in her chest.
Most of her sexual encounters had been swift and to the point. No one had ever touched and stroked her the way Tristan did. As if she was something to treasure and worship.
He must have thought she didn’t like what he was doing because he took his hands away and when she looked up she saw he’d stretched his arms above his head and was pressing his hands against the headboard.
She wanted to tell him she’d liked how he made her feel, but she didn’t know how to say it without it sounding cheesy or, even worse, needy. And, anyway, it would have been a total mood-breaker to start discussing feelings at that precise moment. She wasn’t there to talk.
Moving her way up his body, she positioned herself so she was sitting on the tops of his thighs, trapping him beneath her.
He looked up at her and gave her a slow smile. ‘I like looking at you, sitting there all sexy and self-assured.’
The comment gave her a little zing of anxiety in her chest. She didn’t want him to be focused on her; she wanted him concentrating on his own pleasure. Reaching forward, she plucked his glasses off his nose and put them carefully on the nightstand next to the bed.
He groaned in grumpy frustration. ‘I can’t see you now.’
‘That’s the idea. You’re going to have to feel me instead,’ she said, tearing open the condom wrapper.
He groaned again, but this time it was filled with pure hunger.
She took a moment to slide the latex over him, enjoying his little growls of pleasure as she did so.
Moving up on her knees, she positioned herself above him, fitting the tip of him inside her. She smiled as she heard his deep intake of breath and he gripped the headboard harder. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself onto him, relishing the exquisite stretch and pressure as he filled her. She was so keyed up, it felt as though a million nerve-endings had come alive and were dancing with joy inside her.
They fitted together perfectly, the length of him hitting her deep inside, and she couldn’t stop herself from moving straight away, savouring the ebb and flow of sensation as she pressed deep, then pulled up and almost off him again.
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa...’ Tristan muttered, as she continued to move and leant back to put a hand on each of his thighs, letting her hair cascade down her back.
She felt him buck beneath her and increased her speed, rocking her pelvis back and forth, delighting in the delicious friction inside her.
Tipping her head back to look at him, she saw him lick the fingers of one hand then slide it between her legs, pressing on her sensitive nub and sending a whole new riot of sensation through her.
Releasing her grip on his legs, she leaned forwards into the pressure of his caress and picked up the pace, feeling the beginnings of an orgasm as it teased her body, shimmering like a halo of pleasure on the horizon.
The dual sensations intensified as she rode him and lost herself in the pure hedonism of the moment. Delicious pressure built and built until she thought she might go crazy with the need for release and finally the feeling broke and she flew over the edge, plummeting into a deep, dark cavern of euphoria, pinpricks of light exploding behind her eyes.
It took a good few moments for her blissed-out state to dispel enough for her to rise from where she’d slumped against Tristan’s chest but, when she did, she saw he was giving her the most wickedly delighted smirk.
‘It sounded like you enjoyed that,’ he said.
‘I might have found it pleasingly uplifting,’ she replied, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.
‘I’m relieved I didn’t let my bespectacled brothers down.’
‘No, no, I can safely say they’d be more than satisfied with your sterling performance,’ she said, shifting a little, only to discover how hard he still was inside her.
He let out a muffled curse and clenched his fists above his head. ‘Please tell me you’re not going to leave me like this.’
‘You really think I’d be that cruel,’ she said, shifting her hips again to restart the slip-slide motion, conjuring up wonderful aftershocks from her orgasm.
His breath rasped in his throat as they moved faster together and she allowed him to set the pace this time, matching his thrusts as he found his rhythm.
Leaning forwards, she pressed her hands onto his shoulders to hold him against the bed—the sheen of sweat on his skin causing her grip to slip a little—and continued to move with him, squeezing him inside her on the upstroke. She could feel his muscles quivering beneath her touch and he bucked his hips, his breathing growing more and more ragged until he finally let out a low groan of pleasure, his brow furrowing hard in concentrated pleasure as he came inside her.
It was a truly beautiful sight.
She’d done that to him. She’d made this gorgeous, ridiculously sexy man lose his mind like that.
They worked together.
Something she could only describe as a mind orgasm flooded through her head at the thought of it.
She stayed on top of him until his breathing quietened and he opened his eyes again and smiled at her.
‘Well, Louise, I have to admit I’m very grateful you coughed all over me tonight.’ He placed a hand on her hip and stroked his fingertips up and down, tickling the line of her spine.
Despite her wave of discomfort at him not using her real name, her body still gave a delicious shiver in response to his touch.
‘Just think,’ he continued, an eyebrow raised. ‘If you hadn’t we might have both been alone in our separate beds right now instead of enjoying the warm afterglow of down and dirty sex together.’
Levering herself off him, she collapsed onto the bed, trying not to worry about how wobbly she felt.
The slow, sad pull of loneliness that had bugged her recently had no business raising its ugly head right now. There was no room for anything other than sexual satisfaction at this precise moment.
He turned to look at her and the jubilant expression on his face made her heart turn over.
Down, girl.
‘Seriously, that was incredible. It was exactly what I needed,’ he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes, then flopping it down onto the bed next to him, a wide, satisfied grin splashed across his face.
She took a deep controlling breath, suddenly terrified by a disorientating muddle of thoughts and feelings that hurtled through her head.
Surely the end of a one-night stand wasn’t supposed to feel like this—so...melancholy. She should be bouncing out of there with a spring in her step, not mooching about like a lost puppy, desperate for more attention.
From out of nowhere, the nervy fear about the meeting in the morning came back to hit her with full force in the chest.
What the hell was she doing?
She should get out of there. Right now.
‘Okay, well, good,’ she said shakily, sitting up and swinging her legs over the bed. ‘I’m gonna get going.’
She felt the bed dip behind her as he rolled onto his side and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand.
‘You’re leaving? Right now?’
‘I have things to do tomorrow.’ She couldn’t look at him in case he saw the bewildering swirl of emotion she was battling to hide.
She couldn’t stay, not if she had any chance of staying sane.
And, anyway, Tristan would probably freak out if she started acting like this was anything other than a one-night stand.
Better to cut her losses and go now.
She jumped up off the bed and went over to where their clothes lay in a muddled heap on the floor. Flinging his things out of the way, she located all of hers and pulled them on quickly, intensely aware of his gaze on her back.
‘What? I gave you such an incredible orgasm there’s no point in even trying to top it?’ His tone was jokey, but she detected a faintly indignant twang.
She laughed despite herself. ‘I’ll certainly never forget it.’ She turned back to look at him and took a step towards where he now sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a couple of feet between them. Maintaining a safe distance from that tantalising body of his. ‘But I get the feeling you wouldn’t be interested in a sleepover.’
‘Well, no—’
‘And, to be honest, I’m not a good bedfellow anyway. I move around a lot. And I steal the sheets. I’d keep you awake and you’d regret even suggesting it.’
He was frowning now, clearly baffled by her word vomit.
‘It’s okay, Louise, I wasn’t suggesting that.’
She sighed and rubbed a hand over her forehead, feeling downright sleazy now for not telling him her real name. ‘It’s been fun, Tristan. Really good fun, but I think it’s best if I don’t hang around.’
Argh, how were you meant to do this kind of thing without sounding like a prude or a heinous bitch?
* * *
Tristan stood up and caught hold of Lu’s arm as she turned to go. ‘Hey, wait.’ Drawing her towards him, he bent to kiss her again for the last time, attempting to make it a kiss she’d never forget.
The groan she gave in the back of her throat made him think he’d succeeded.
He felt discombobulated by her sudden need to depart and wanted to slow her down, keep her for a bit longer, even if it was only for one extra minute.
Breaking away, she gave him a look of pure regret. ‘I’m not going to be able to leave if you keep doing things like that.’
He smiled. ‘That’s the idea.’
Her gaze flitted to the floor and his stomach sank as he realised he’d said the wrong thing. This was a one-night-only thing. That was all he’d thought he wanted—until he’d found how sexually explosive they were together. Now he wanted to suggest he stayed in London for an extra day so they could spend one more night together—one very long night—to give them the chance to explore exactly how much more fun they could conjure up between them.
Letting her go now seemed like such a travesty.
Apparently Lu didn’t share his view.
She stepped forwards to give him one last soft kiss on the lips, then turned and walked swiftly away, closing the door quietly behind her.
And then she was gone.
After showering, he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to ignore the way his body seemed desperate for more of Lu’s intensive attention. His eyes looked brighter than normal and his skin was flushed and glowing. That was what a good, hard bout of amazing sex did to you. It made you look and feel alive. Something he’d been missing for a while now.
He’d been surprised by how much he’d loved the way Lu had taken control. Normally he was the one leading things in the bedroom—it had never occurred to him not to—and he’d been pleasantly surprised by just how much he’d liked it when she took over. And by how willing he was to trust her. Maybe it was because he had to be responsible in every other part of his life; handing control over to someone else for a change had been liberating.
Going back into the bedroom, he gathered up his clothes from the floor. His gaze caught on something the size and shape of a credit card as it fell out from the folds of his shirt. He scooped it up and looked at it. It was a driver’s licence. Louise must have dropped it out of her bag when she went looking for condoms. A feeling of euphoria rose in his chest. He might have just found a reason to contact her again.
Turning it over, he glanced quickly at the cute picture of Lu before reading the name underneath it.
Tallulah Lazenby.
His whole body went cold as the name sank into his brain. Why was it so familiar? And why was he experiencing this sick, sinking feeling?
Grabbing his laptop, he opened up the mail from his father giving him the details for the meeting at the radio station tomorrow. He scanned the text until his eyes alighted on the name of the woman his father wanted to fire.
Tallulah Lazenby.
She’d told him her name was Louise.
She’d lied to him.
His mind flitted back to all the moments that evening where she’d seemed to correct herself or change up her performance with him.
She’d known who he was all along—deliberately latching onto him and seducing him, perhaps hoping he’d think twice before firing her from her job.
He’d been played for a fool. Again.
Flinging the card across the room, he flopped down onto the bed, furious with himself for being stupid enough to think this had been one of those genuinely serendipitous events.
Hot humiliation washed through him, followed by icy anger. It felt just as bad as when he’d found out Marcy had been cheating on him.
No. Worse.
This had been a deliberate plan to manipulate him.
That was why she’d choked when they’d first met; she must have seen a picture of him somewhere. His father had been known to include photos of his family members in his press releases if he thought it would benefit his businesses—to promote himself as a trustworthy employer with family values. What a joke that was.
And he’d told her his name. He had a sudden memory flash of what he’d thought was her deciding whether to talk to him or not. She must have been deciding how best to get one over on him.
Damn it. How had he allowed himself to be taken for such a fool?
Pulling the sheet over him in frustration, he attempted to settle his still frustratingly aroused body into a comfortable sleeping position.
One thing was for sure, it was going to be a very interesting meeting tomorrow.
