Читать книгу The Dare Collection November 2018 - Christy McKellen, Avril Tremayne - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

Gideon

AFTER TWO LONG weeks of self-enforced celibacy—maddening, unrealistic and utterly fucked-up celibacy I’d imposed on myself because I’d never been a half-measures kind of guy—the delicious challenge of Leonora Branson was like a shot of morphine in my bloodstream.

Hell, she’d nearly made me blow my load with that ‘say please’ shit.

I’d never begged for anything in my life.

She’d made me want to beg. For the damned towel and a whole lot more besides. It was that combination of sexy stubbornness and pure defiance that did it. Not to mention that unfettered boldness.

But if I was honest, she’d floored me back at the airport by being the polar opposite of what I’d expected. Her stiff intransigence over the phone had reminded me of a schoolmistress, and instead she’d turned out to be a nineteen fifties pin-up bombshell.

Simply put, Leonora Branson—even her name was cruelly deceptive—was too bloody gorgeous for her own good. Coupled with the intelligence that shone from her eyes and her impressive achievements with such a new business success, it was enough to throw me seriously off guard.

It was almost amusing that she was doing her damnedest to wrestle all that brain power and fist-biting perfection into a military-like Armani suit. Leonora would command attention adorned in a sack and still have sex-starved fuckers like me at her mercy.

Or seconds away from stroking their cocks in the shower in full view of her.

Bloody hell.

I sucked in a shaky breath, knew that if I didn’t shut off the image of those wide, delicious ocean-blue eyes, I’d come all over the bathroom tiles.

Her expression was cool and collected when I stepped into the living room five minutes later, save for the telltale pulse beat at her throat. I barely managed to resist the urge to test her resolve.

To test mine.

Maybe Aunt Flo was right and I’d developed a self-destructive streak somewhere along the jagged path to oblivion these past three years. It was that niggling suspicion that had made me go the whole hog and throw in full celibacy on the thirty-day no-scandal stipulation. I could only stay on the edge for so long before something gave.

Regardless of whatever state I was in, I couldn’t very well blame Leonora for asking the one question that triggered all sorts of shit for me, particularly since for most people the subject of children was a run-of-the-mill question, usually with an easy enough answer.

Not for me.

Not since Damian and Penny betrayed me and I was denied a chance at fatherhood I hadn’t even known I wanted until it was snatched from me.

I clenched my teeth and smashed away the memory. But like always, it lingered, acid hot, burning its corrosive poison bone deep. I breathed through it, centring on the more immediate, less volatile picture.

I needed my focus fixed firmly in the present to finalise this deal with Vadim Ilyev, not in the past, where betrayal and back-stabbers lurked.

Since the word had spread that I’d agreed to sign the blasted agreement, a few more brazen family members were openly sharpening their tools in anticipation of my failure.

The Russian deal couldn’t fail.

I crossed the living room to where a carafe of coffee sat on a silver tray. Leonora stood next to the sofa, her leather folder braced before her like a Viking shield.

‘Coffee?’

‘No, thank you.’

I poured a cup, letting the addictive scent of roasted beans suffuse my senses.

She cleared her throat. ‘Before we go any further, I think we need to clear up a few things.’

Cup in hand, I strolled over to her. ‘You think?’

Her chin lifted in a way that made me want to kiss the hell out of her. Then beg her for more. Shit, there was that begging thing again. Curious thing, that.

‘I don’t usually conduct business meetings like that,’ she said.

‘So I’m special? I’m pleased to hear it.’

Her lips pursed, then she took the high road. ‘I’m willing to forget that...that happened if you are?’ A faint blush kissed her cheeks.

I bit back a grin, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it if I said exactly what was on my mind right then. ‘Your generosity is much appreciated, Leonora.’

Her eyes widened a touch at my use of her full name. ‘It’s Leonie.’

‘I prefer Leonora. For all sorts of reasons.’

She opened her mouth, no doubt to berate me again, but then changed her mind. I hid my disappointment and gulped my coffee, hoping the caffeine would shock my brain into full efficiency.

‘Do you have the leasing agreement?’

She gave a brisk nod and plucked it from the folder. I’d read an electronic copy of it on the plane so I signed it and handed it back.

The breath she released was tinged with relief I was a little envious of because I had a feeling the coming weeks weren’t going to be a piece of cake for me.

Damn Vadim and his feet dragging. Damn my blasted family...

‘You were going to give me a list of your guests earlier.’

I paced the window and turned around, again finding her gaze on me. This time she was quicker to neutralise her expression.

‘By order of importance, my client, Vadim Ilyev, four or five of his cronies and various hangers-on. They’ll be aboard from anywhere between a few days to a couple of weeks, depending on how our negotiations go, although I bloody well hope it won’t be that long.’ I ignored her startled glance and continued, ‘At some point, some of my family members may drop by.’ Again she sent me a wary glance, no doubt at my less-than-enthusiastic tone. ‘Florence Mortimer is to be given priority above everyone else if she makes an appearance.’

Leonora paused her furious scribbling. ‘Is that your mother?’

‘In all the ways that count except by birth,’ I replied.

She stared. Attempted to read between the lines. Then she went back to making her notes. ‘And you? Will you be entertaining any special guests?’

‘Is that your way of asking me if I’m bringing my lover aboard?’

She shrugged, her gaze fixed on her notes. ‘I’m simply gathering as much information as possible.’

‘Leonora...’ I waited till she looked my way. ‘It wounds me that you consider me a man who entertains a beautiful woman in his bathroom when he’s involved with someone else.’

Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘Technically, I invited myself,’ she rebutted firmly.

That brazen way of stating the unvarnished truth impressed the hell out of me. Penny had been economical and manipulative with the truth, right up until her ultimate, unforgivable betrayal.

‘But I also think you’re the kind of man who enjoys getting under people’s skin.’

My grin came away a little stiff. ‘Do you think I’m spoilt, Leonora?’

‘I think you’re impatient and opinionated and domineering and a little entitled. But not spoilt.’

‘Why not?’

A triumphant smile played around her luscious lips. ‘I know how spoilt, rich people behave. For starters, they don’t write letters of recommendation for doormen. It’s clear that you can be generous and accommodating when you want to be.’

Bloody hell, she was fucking adorable. And sexy and intelligent in a way that pressed all the buttons that had grown a little rusty in my bid to use superficial pleasure to dull my pain.

Ignoring the resurgent twitch in my groin, I strolled over to perch on the arm of the sofa. She angled her head towards me, her delicate jaw tilted in open defiance that turned me on even more.

‘And do you want to know why, Leonora, you in particular—with your charming little suit, your prissily knotted hair and your ballpoint pen—have brought out the worst in me this morning?’ I demanded softly, finally giving in to the urge to stroke my finger down her jaw.

She sucked in a sharp breath through slightly parted lips. Her eyes widened but she didn’t move away. She stayed exactly where she was, taunting me with her warm, silky skin. Taunting me with what I couldn’t have.

When my thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, her lips parted wider. ‘What—’

The knock on the door made her jump. I gave an inner groan, dropped my hand and downed the rest of my coffee.

‘That would be my next appointment.’

She blinked, then frowned. ‘We’re not done, Gideon. I need more information.’

‘I can fit you in tonight,’ I said as I walked to the door. ‘We’ll meet back here, but be prepared to go out. We’ll do dinner first, then... Who knows?’

‘I thought you had plans with a roulette table,’ she snipped as she slammed the folder shut and rose.

I shrugged. ‘She’s a cruel mistress when she wants to be. But she’s also very patient.’ I looked over my shoulder, paused with one hand on the doorknob. ‘And, Leonora, wear something that’s...not that suit you’re wearing.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this suit.’

‘No, there isn’t. And that’s exactly my problem.’ I didn’t think I could handle being in the same room with her without ripping that single, naughty little button holding in her assets.

I pulled the door open before I changed my mind about ending our meeting. On the threshold stood a tall, leggy brunette in a very short dress.

‘Bonjour, I’m Monique. I’m here as requested, Monsieur Mortimer,’ she said with a toothpaste smile.

Behind me, I heard Leonora choke before she covered it with an unnecessary throat-clearing.

I hid a smile. ‘And right on time, too. You’ll do, sweetheart. Come in.’ I pointed down the hall. ‘First door on your right.’

‘Merci.’ She sailed into the suite with a wide smile, which faltered when she spotted Leonora.

The two women eyed each other before Leonora tugged on her sleeve and fixed me with a baleful stare. ‘Would it be better if I deal with your assistant back in London? That way I can save us both time?’

‘No, Leonora. You deal with me and only me.’

I walked to the lift and held it open for her. She slid past me, trailing an evocative scent of lushness I wanted to inhale long and deep from all her pleasure points.

When she reached the back of the lift she executed a sexy little turn, her gaze fixed on my chin for a moment before she flicked it up to mine. ‘Thank you for your business, Mr Mortimer. I aim to do everything I can to make your time on board La Sirène exceptional.’

I held the door open as it went to shut. ‘I’m sure it will be one way or the other. And it’s been an interesting experience meeting you, too, Leonora. Expect my call tonight.’

The lift doors shut on her warily speculative gaze.

I gave in to my grin for as long as it took to re-enter the suite and head down the hall to the study.

Monique was already stationed at the spare desk, her laptop opened and the files I’d brought with me set out beside her. She looked up as I entered, a professional smile fixed on her face.

I returned it with a nod and moved to my desk. ‘How’s your Russian, Monique?’

‘Still fluent, Monsieur Mortimer.’

‘Excellent. Start with translating the report that I printed off last night. Then we’ll make amendments to a few subcontracts.’

‘Right away, monsieur.’

I slid open my own laptop, answered a few emails and made a couple of urgent phone calls. Then my mind began to drift to a certain curvy blonde.

The bold challenge in her eyes as she’d demanded I say please.

The touch of vulnerability she’d tried so hard to hide that made me want to dig until all her secrets were exposed to me.

The business savvy that had seen her land the sort of deal that was usually reserved for much larger outfits than hers.

That pretty pink mouth.

How the hell was I going to survive weeks with her on board a yacht without going insane, breaking my promise to Aunt Flo and acting on the growing list of every fucking filthy thing I wanted to do to the prim and proper Miss Leonora Branson?

Leonie

Stop staring at your bloody phone!

I glared at the mobile in my hand as if it carried the blame for remaining stone-cold silent. Then I went one better and tossed it on the sofa as I passed it in another fit of restless pacing. It was my own fault for coming up with the brilliant idea to get dressed a whole hour before Gideon was supposed to call. If he called.

More than likely he had his hands full with the brunette who’d showed up on his doorstep. Of course, he’d never bothered to introduce her. Nor had he got around to answering my question about whatever special guest he intended to bring aboard the yacht.

So yes, I’d wanted to know for reasons other than my list. Were they even now rolling around on his king-sized bed? Or was he delivering the filthy promises his stormy eyes had promised me in the shower?

The memory of my last moments in his bathroom rose like a 3D image—big, thrillingly sinful before my eyes. Gideon might be a cocky bastard, but he had the equipment to back it up, and then some. I hadn’t lost my virginity to Adam, but he was my only long-term, meaningful relationship before it all went to hell. Since his betrayal, I’d indulged in two meaningless one-night stands, enjoyable at the time but regretted soon afterwards.

None of the men in my past came close to the heat Gideon was packing. Since leaving his hotel, I’d been struck at the oddest, most inconvenient times during the day with an insane craving to uncover what the steam had hidden from me, watch his beautiful face go slack with lust and arousal as I pumped him. In those dreadful and wicked moments, he’d reduced me to needy ravenous hormones that yearned for one more orgasm with a man who knew how to wring the last ounce of pleasure from a woman.

From the moment I met him, every look, word and deed pointed to the fact that Gideon Mortimer knew the road map to a woman’s every pleasure point or would make it his mission to discover even more.

I stared down at my favourite little black dress, picked out with a curiously compulsive need to look my best. My ears and wrists were adorned with my favourite tasteful diamonds and I’d washed and curled my hair.

I grimaced.

My actions whiffed of desperation, which sparked irritation and another round of pacing that took me to the window.

Meeting Gideon had escalated the turbulent emotions he’d evoked over the phone yesterday.

Since my father’s atrocious treatment of my mother and Adam’s cutting betrayal, I’d sworn never to tolerate bad boys in any shape or form. I didn’t need a crystal ball to know I’d be letting myself in for that special brand of male arrogance the moment I stepped aboard the yacht.

Stubbornness attempted to kick in but I resisted. I was used to being shoved out of my comfort zone. Hell, I’d started my business with little more than my meagre savings, a polished business plan and a driving will to succeed, and I’d triumphed.

My hormonal teenager days were behind me, and yet within hours of meeting him all my senses seemed to be poised on some insane precipice that beckoned a recklessness I hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever.

The excuse that getting ready early was simple efficiency was bullshit. Truth was, I wanted to see him again. And the anticipation bubbling in my veins had very little to do with business.

A deeper agitation drove me from the window. This was dangerous. Probably because I recognised this burgeoning madness for what it was.

I’d seen a variation of it on my mother’s face time and again, even after she’d claimed to have got over my father. The mere mention of his name would bring a rabid anticipation to her eyes that used to embarrass me. Over time, I’d grown to pity that look. That in turn had morphed into helpless bewilderment and anger, which still lingered.

I was nowhere near experiencing that same emotion, but I was cognisant of the fact that it had a starting point. If what I was feeling now was even a fraction of what my mother had lived with for years, then I was better off staying away from Gideon Mortimer.

And yet...

A part of me wanted to wipe that arrogant smugness from his face. I was in complete control. Besides, he had his brunette to occupy him. He could play his wicked little tricks on her.

The annoying twinge in my breastbone mocked my throwaway thoughts. I wanted to laugh at myself for the jealousy spiking through my blood. Instead, I retrieved my phone and placed the call I needed to Monaco. Five minutes later I’d officially taken myself off the roster for La Sirène’s crew.

Because I’d be foolish to stare at the ashen evidence of my childhood and what Adam had done to me and not learn from my mistakes.

I ended the call, contemplated placing another one to Gideon to tell him of the replacement but stopped myself. It would be better to tell him in person, draw a line underneath that dangerous attraction.

I walked out onto my balcony.

The sunset on the balmy evening attracted the great and beautiful onto the streets below. I people-watched, until my gaze inexorably drifted over to the soaring turrets of the Riviera One hotel.

To Gideon Mortimer and all the dirty things he could be doing with the brunette. Impatient with the direction of my one-track thoughts, I walked back into the living room just as my phone buzzed.

Change of plan. Need to reschedule dinner but meeting is still on. My driver will pick you up at seven thirty.

Irritation flicked to disappointment then back to anger with myself for being disappointed. I was a grown woman draped in diamonds and my best Louboutin heels. Hell if I was going to let that go to waste. My fingers flew over the screen as I tapped out a reply.

Where is he taking me?

The dialogue cloud bubbled and I realised I was holding my breath. I released it impatiently.

Casino de Monte-Carlo.

Cancel the driver. I’ll drive myself.

The cloud rippled again.

Very well. But you won’t always have things your way, Leonora.

For some stupid reason I gave in to the urge to smile, then I closed my eyes and imagined him saying that last line to me, that edgy hunger on his face.

God, I was losing it.

And yet, despite my admonishment to myself, two minutes later, I grabbed my clutch and leather jacket, and headed down to the private garage of my apartment building. I slipped behind the wheel of my silver Porsche Roadster, my heart thumping as I secured the seat belt and gunned the throaty engine.

The Côte d’Azur was always meant to be where I returned to make one definitive point before moving on. It was where I would rise like a phoenix from the ashes of my relationship and walk away whole again.

And are you whole?

My smile dimmed a little as the question shot alarm through me, bruising a little bit as it slammed into my heart. After a minute, I let it drift away unanswered, relieved when I saw signs for Monaco.

In Casino Square, I handed the valet my keys and, settling my jacket over my shoulder, I entered Casino de Monte-Carlo. Membership of the iconic establishment had been a necessity for my business. Almost every client who visited the South of France craved the singular thrill of throwing a die in the famous casino. I knew the staff by name and I greeted a few as I made my way into the main gambling salon.

Wine spritzer in hand, I drifted through the crowd, the excitement I’d been trying to ignore resurging through my blood as I entered the inner sanctum, where staggering amounts of money were won and lost on the gambling tables. This was where Gideon was likely to be.

When a quick look failed to reveal him, my excitement dimmed a little. I attempted to shrug it off, smiling as a waiter approached with a single glass of vintage champagne.

‘Courtesy of monsieur,’ he said with a thick French accent. I accepted but before I could enquire as to exactly who monsieur was, he’d discreetly melted away. When another surreptitious look around the room didn’t produce an insanely sexy Englishman with luscious face and panty-melting body, I approached a blackjack table.

I wasn’t going to look for Gideon. I intended to deny this crazy craving, for ever if I could. On a reckless whim, I played the next hand of blackjack. And the next. When five in a row tripled my thousand euros, I decided to quit while I was ahead.

Or it might have been that alarming tingle between my shoulders blades that suggested I was being watched. Breath catching, I looked around again, but none of the male eyes checking me out were Gideon Mortimer’s. Irritation ratcheted up.

‘Buy you another?’

I glanced to my left and the owner of the American accent. He was pleasant-looking enough, and had my treacherous interest not been rooted in a certain businessman I probably would’ve been flattered.

‘Thank you, but no,’ I replied.

He tried to cover his crestfallen look with a smile. ‘My loss.’

I turned away, suffered through another five minutes before giving in and digging my phone out of my clutch. We hadn’t set a definite time for our meeting, and my fingers trembled lightly as I toyed with the temptation to text Gideon.

But again, that smacked of desperation.

‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you?’ the American coaxed again, nodding at my glass.

I smiled. ‘I’m still halfway through this one. Let’s see how I feel when I’m done, okay?’

His smile broadened. ‘Sounds like a plan.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Andy, by the way.’

‘Leonie,’ I replied, my stomach dipping with chagrin as I placed my hand in his and watched him kiss the back of it.

I didn’t want to encourage him, so I quickly retrieved my hand, took another sip of my champagne and noticed a light buzzing in my head. I hadn’t drunk enough to be tipsy.

So maybe I was imagining that crazy tingling moving inexorably down my back, intensifying and leaving my whole body gripped in little tremors.

Or maybe it was my need to be fucked, specifically by Gideon Mortimer since those intense minutes in his bathroom, that was driving me insane.

I fished my phone out and typed out a short message.

I’m here.

His reply was equally short and immediate.

Are you? You seem otherwise engaged.

Excuse me?

No, you’re not excused, Leonora.

Even via the stark typeface, I could tell he was disgruntled. I was staring at my phone when the next message popped up.

Turn around.

I spun around.

He stood five feet away, piercing grey eyes locked on me. The man was pissed, even as he stared at me as if he owned me.

Those eyes shifted a second later to Andy, dismissed him before returning his stormy gaze to me. ‘Leonora.’

It wasn’t exactly a greeting. His voice throbbed with something savage and visceral that raced fresh skitters of awareness over my skin.

I stared at him, let his gaze rake me from head to toe, let that barely disguised hunger in his eyes wash over me. I indulged in it for a stolen moment, let it sting my nipples and saturate between my thighs so possessively that it felt as if he were stroking my clit without lifting a finger.

I was still absorbing the effect of his presence when he closed the gap between us.

Andy shifted towards us. ‘Hey, how about that drink?’ he asked.

Gideon’s face tightened. ‘That’s not going to happen. She’s here for me,’ he said through stiff lips, his gaze not once leaving my face. ‘Aren’t you, Leonora?’

Something in his demeanour sent a different set of tingles racing down my spine. A warning that something else was going on here.

I was so caught up in figuring it out, I barely saw Andy leave.

‘Shall we go somewhere a little more private?’ Gideon asked with that escalating edge in his voice.

‘Let’s get something straight first. I’m here for a meeting with you. Nothing else.’

‘I never suggested otherwise. But since we’re casting insinuations about, is that how you use your premeeting time? Having men slobber all over you?’

A blush surged into my face. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Again, no,’ he rasped.

I took a breath, and bit back my hot response when I noticed we were attracting attention.

Confidentiality rated very high on my list. I never discussed client business in public. Even if this particular client seemed determined to burrow his way under my skin.

‘The request still holds,’ he extended after half a minute.

I swallowed my irritation. Come Monday he would be my client. I had to maintain a degree of professionalism.

‘Fine, lead the way.’

Gideon took hold of my arm but instead of heading to the stunning balcony a few dozen feet away, he steered me to another blackjack table.

‘I thought we were going to talk.’

‘We were, but I don’t think it’s a great idea for us to be alone right now.’

My pulse tripped wildly. ‘Why not?’

‘For one thing, your little flirtation disrupted my lucky streak. I fancy one more roll of the dice before we get down to business.’

Exhaling was a shaky, rushed mess. He nudged me into an empty spot at the table where an indecently high pile of neatly stacked chips stood and fenced me in, his hands braced on either side of me.

When it became clear he wasn’t going to continue, I glanced over my shoulder. ‘And for another?’

He paused, stormy grey eyes weighing me. ‘I believe in brutal honesty, Leonora.’

‘That works for me, too.’

‘Good. Then you won’t be surprised to hear I’m attracted to you. Insanely so.’

Heat licked my skin, inside and out. ‘Gideon—’

‘So watching some tosser kiss your skin doesn’t exactly put me in a good mood.’

‘That would explain your rudeness, then.’

‘I wanted him out of the way,’ he breathed into my ear.

The heavy thudding in my chest went against every instinct to remain objective. As did the sudden craving to lean back against the heated column of hard body. ‘But that wasn’t just simple jealousy,’ I said. I’d seen something more in his eyes.

Again, he hesitated for an uncomfortable stretch. ‘No, it wasn’t. Someone I trusted took what belonged to me. More than one someone, actually. Between them they destroyed something precious. And I’ve discovered that a double betrayal has wrecked my ability to be rational in certain situations.’

The raw admission in the middle of the crowded casino staggered me. Enough for me to drop my guard, to let in a kinship I’d never felt before. ‘I know what that feels like,’ I found myself replying.

His expression shifted, a little of that edge dissipating to leave that sizzling sex appeal threatening to drown me.

‘Then you’ll forgive any future transgressions.’

God, how was it that even that wry self-condemnation was beyond sexy?

‘I don’t belong to you, Gideon,’ I stressed, perhaps more for me than for him.

He shifted to stand beside me, a wicked smile curving his sensuous lips as his gaze swept over me. He stared at my mouth for an interminable age, prompting a yearning to slick my tongue over my tingling flesh. ‘Point taken.’ His voice was thicker, deeper, his eyelashes sweeping low and seductive. ‘But don’t forget the warning, all the same.’

‘Place your bets, please.’

The croupier’s accented request shattered our strange little cocoon. I yanked my gaze from Gideon’s but he continued to stare at me.

‘What?’ I asked after charged seconds.

‘Let’s make a wager.’

I shook my head. ‘I’m all gambled out for the night.’

‘Scared?’

I shrugged. ‘I’m not a huge fan of sharks but I swim in the ocean. And I also know when to get out.’

‘Take a last dip with me,’ he coaxed. ‘One small bet.’ Contrary to his words, the pile of chips he pushed towards the croupier amounted to tens of thousands of euros.

‘Why?’

He sent me a cryptic glance. ‘I like to keep things...interesting.’

An alien need to throw caution to the wind seized me and this time I couldn’t even blame the champagne swiftly fading from my system. ‘What happens if you win?’

‘We discuss business...and you spend the rest of the evening with me.’

A steady pulsing between my legs joined the strumming in my chest. ‘And if you lose?’

‘You get to call the shots on how the evening goes. You can stay or you can leave.’

I hesitated, common sense warning that I was playing with fire.

His eyes gleamed, made another hot pass over my mouth. ‘Make up your mind, Leonora. The crowd is growing impatient.’

A quick glance testified to that. ‘Okay, we have a deal.’

The words were barely out of my mouth before he nodded to the croupier. As was the norm when staggering sums were at stake, the table went quiet, all eyes on the cards that were doled out and then sequentially revealed.

His arrogant smile said he’d expected to win.

He lost.

While I winced inwardly at the small fortune being scooped up by the croupier, Gideon barely glanced at it, his attention again fixed on me.

I wetted suddenly dry lips, attempted to tell myself I hadn’t won any special prize. All I wanted was to finalise our business, tell him I was taking myself off the crew and leave.

The electricity zapping through my system told me differently. For one thing, he was leaning close, way too close, his gaze on my face. ‘I’m in your hands now, Leonora. Your wish is my command.’

‘Talk,’ I blurted. ‘Let’s find somewhere to talk. Like we intended to...before.’

A smile whispered over his lips as he held out his arm. ‘Of course. I know just the place.’

The private salon he led me to was opulent, decadent and empty.

The fireworks detonating beneath my skin grew bolder. Wilder. I attempted to mitigate the sensation by taking several steps away from him. But not once did Gideon’s eyes stray from me. I was very much aware he was tracking me as I pretended to inspect every inch of the room.

‘How many private gaming rooms did you rent out for the night?’ I asked, turning away from that hypnotic gaze to drift my fingers over the velvet blackjack table.

‘Three, but Vadim and his entourage seem to prefer the roulette room.’

I stopped, surprised. ‘Your client’s already here?’

He nodded, prowling slowly towards me. ‘That’s why I cancelled our dinner. Vadim likes to play games. I suspected he’d pull something like this so I came prepared.’

So he hadn’t been delayed by the brunette. The strong relief that washed over me made me frown. ‘Do I need to be prepared to sail early, too? I might need to make a few calls to the crew members if—’

Gideon’s head shake stopped me. ‘He’s a heavy gambler. He won’t be ready to leave the casino until Sunday night at the earliest.’

My relief evaporated a moment later when Gideon arrived in front of me. ‘I don’t like to encroach on another man’s property, Leonora, so tell me there isn’t some guy climbing the walls somewhere while you’re here meeting with me.’

‘Is that your trust issue rearing its head again?’

Cold, brutal anger shifted through his eyes before it evaporated. Strangely, I wasn’t terrified because I knew it wasn’t directed at me. ‘Very much so.’

‘There’s no guy,’ I replied.

‘Good,’ he said, but just when I thought he’d move closer, he straightened and put the width of the table between us. ‘You wanted to talk business. Let’s hear it, Leonora.’

The long, shaky breath I took was filled with him. Hell, his scent invaded me everywhere, including places I desperately wanted him. ‘No one calls me Leonora.’

‘Then I’m honoured that you grant me that privilege.’

Oh, God.

Right. Business. ‘I wanted to know more about your client. His needs.’

‘Anything with a fast engine to get Vadim from the yacht to a casino or nightclub when we dock will suffice. And several bucketloads of caviar—he consumes the stuff like it’s oxygen. Any other form of entertainment he will provide for himself.’

‘Is there anything else—’

‘Enough about Vadim, I want to talk about me.’

‘What about you?’

He leaned closer, his mouth hovering tantalisingly close. ‘I lost a huge sum of money five minutes ago.’

Heat billowed through my body. ‘You knew what you were letting yourself in for.’

He winced. ‘Ouch. Have a little mercy, Leonora,’ he whispered.

God, the way he said my name. Where was the mercy there? ‘Fine, I’m sorry you lost a shitload of money. Now, can we get back to—’

‘Who was he?’

‘Pardon?’

‘You said you knew what it felt like. So who let you down?’ he demanded, that edge back in his voice.

I swallowed the boulder wedged in my throat. ‘I’m not in the habit of divulging my personal details to my clients, Mr Mortimer.’

His mouth twisted. ‘Don’t give me that Mr Mortimer bullshit. We’re past that. Just as we’re past all that surface stuff, regardless of how much you want to cling to it. You watched me almost lose control in the shower this morning because you’re so fucking sexy I can’t think straight around you. Then the next time I see you, some idiot with wandering hands and busy lips is all over you. I lost our little bet, which means you can walk out that door any minute. But before you do, I want to know you a little better, and not just as a damned client. So let’s have a simple conversation, shall we?’

It was too much. He was too bloody much.

‘Simple? You think prying into a painful subject like that is simple?’ I said through numb lips.

He stared at me for a charged second, then he grimaced. ‘Fuck. Any chance that little shitty outburst can be slotted under a misdemeanour?’

I wanted to hold on to the pain and anger mixing inside me but hell...the way he was looking at me...

I dragged my eyes from his, although I felt the steady pressure of his gaze as I walked over to the bespoke bar equipped with a stunning array of liquor. ‘Drink?’

He gave an abrupt nod.

I poured a shot of whisky, added two cubes of ice, then fixed a rum and Coke I didn’t really want for myself. If he was surprised I knew his choice of drink—courtesy of a little internet research this afternoon—he chose not to comment.

I held out the glass, trying not to ogle his sexy body as he came towards me. He took the drink from me, and I clinked my glass against his. He sipped his Macallan without taking his eyes from me. I followed suit, licked a drop of Coke that lingered on my bottom lip.

Then a fiercely important question burst from my lips. ‘Who was the brunette from this morning?’

His throat moved as he swallowed. ‘A Russian translator I hired to do some work while I’m here. Are you going to leave, Leonora?’

I didn’t answer immediately. I let him wait while I took another sip. Then I set my glass down and stepped up to him. He stilled, his eyes watchful as I reached out and toyed with the top button of his shirt. ‘Maybe. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But I know that I don’t want to talk about my ex-fiancé, who ran off with another woman two weeks before our wedding.’

He inhaled sharply. ‘Jesus. I’m—’

I surged onto my tiptoes and silenced him with my mouth. In the last twenty-four hours I’d let things slip to Gideon about myself I hadn’t told anyone in years. This man was unravelling me in ways I didn’t like, even while he reeled me in with his insane magnetism.

One kiss. That was all I wanted. One kiss and I’d remove myself from his orbit before he delved deeper into places I didn’t want him to go.

Except, the moment the gap closed between us and I felt the bold imprint of his cock against my belly, I knew I was sunk.