Читать книгу Giordanni's Proposal - Jacqueline Baird - Страница 6

BETH eyed the pile of laundry with a wry grimace. Saturday was her day for washing, cleaning the apartment and shopping—always in that order. Usually she enjoyed having the weekend to herself, but today she felt oddly restless. With a sigh, she picked up the garments and shoved them in the washing machine. Turning it on to the correct setting, she decided to break with habit and do her shopping immediately—not for a second admitting she wanted to get out and back quickly just in case Dexter Giordanni telephoned.

By late afternoon, her apartment spotless, her clothes dried and ironed, she was beginning to regret turning down her friend Mary’s offer to go to the cinema with her. She had a sinking feeling her Saturday night was going to be spent alone in front of the television, and it was her own stupid fault. A man like Dexter Giordanni was not going to call the likes of her in a million years…

Still, she might as well shower and wash her hair; she had nothing else to do. And with that thought in mind she stripped off her jeans and shirt in the bedroom and padded to the bathroom. The ringing of the telephone had her sprinting back to the kitchen like an Olympic runner.

She snatched the receiver off the wall. ‘Yes?’ she said breathlessly.

‘I hope I did not disturb you,’ the deep, dark voice echoed down the line.

If only he knew, Beth thought, grinning to herself. Just the sound of his voice disturbed her more than any other man she had ever known… ‘No, no, not at all. I was just about to step in the shower,’ she told him truthfully.

‘Ah, the image is incantevole, but I must not delay you. I simply called to confirm our dinner date: seven-thirty, yes?’

‘What does incant… whatever mean?’ Beth asked, diverted by his lapse into his native language.

‘Enchanting… Ciao.’ And he replaced his receiver.

Beth stood holding the telephone for a long moment. Dex thought she was enchanting. Taking a deep, contented breath, she replaced her receiver and dreamily made her way back to the bathroom.

An hour later, wearing only a towel, Beth stood in front of her open wardrobe and viewed its contents with a jaundiced eye. Her date would be here in twenty minutes and she had nothing to wear. Apart from a couple of tailored suits she wore for work, the rest of her clothes were all casual. She was very much a jeans and sweater sort of girl, and somehow the red wool shirt-dress she kept for special occasions looked far too plain. Why, oh, why hadn’t she spent the afternoon shopping for an elegant, sophisticated dress to match the sophisticated Dex, instead of lolling around her apartment?

She glanced across the room to the window. The weather hadn’t changed; it was still a grey, cold, overcast autumn evening, and with a resigned sigh she took her only sophisticated dress out of the wardrobe. She had bought it in July for her graduation ball. A simple black satin slip dress, it had a delicate gold thread shimmering though it, tiny shoestring straps, a scooped neck and back and an A-line skirt that ended a few inches above her knee. She dropped it on the bed and turned back to the wardrobe. The frock was fine, but she would be freezing in today’s weather.

Unlike some young woman of her age, who quite happily went out in all weathers with arms and legs bare, Beth was thoroughly sensible, and not prepared to get pneumonia for the sake of fashion. So reluctantly she dragged from the top shelf of a wardrobe a plain black wool shawl, a purchase from one of the high street chains, and threw it on the bed.

She crossed the room, opened the chest of drawers and withdrew a pair of delicate black lace panties and matching garter belt. Dropping the towel to the floor, she quickly pulled on her underwear, then, lifting the dress from the bed, slid it over her head. Cut on the bias, it was too low at the back to allow the wearing of a bra. But, eyeing her reflection in the mirror, she thought, not bad!

Sitting down at the dressing table, she quickly applied a moisturiser to her fine skin. She took a little longer than usual over her eye make-up, accentuating her large eyes with the merest hint of pale aquamarine eyeshadow at the corners and a fine line of brown kohl around the top lid, finishing off with brown-black mascara to enhance her long thick lashes. A gloss of natural pink for her lips, and she was almost ready.

She picked up her hairbrush and brushed her auburn curls vigorously. Then, with a deft twist, she piled her hair on the top of her head, securing it with a discreetly coloured band, and finished off by pushing a few strategic curls firmly in place.

Satisfied with the result, she stood up, and from the dressing table drawer removed a pair of fine black nylon stockings. Carefully pulling them on one by one, she clipped the small black suspenders in place and, straightening, smoothed her skirt down over her thighs. She turned to look over her shoulder at her image: no bumps or brief line! Good.

She slipped her feet into classic black patent leather pumps with two-and-a-half-inch heels. She needed the height, she reminded herself, before taking a small black patent clutch purse from the dressing table and quickly transferring a few essentials from her everyday shoulder bag.

The doorbell rang, disturbing the silence and panicking Beth. She grabbed the black shawl from the bed and slung it around her shoulders before dashing out of the bedroom to the front door. She pressed the button for the intercom and heard that familiar rich voice.

‘Giordanni, here.’

‘I’ll be right down,’ she responded. For some reason she was not quite ready to ask him into her home.

The elevator deposited her in the foyer, and when she saw him leaning indolently against the porter’s desk, dressed in an immaculately fitting black dinner suit with a white silk shirt and perfectly knotted black velvet bow tie, her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly she had a vivid image of herself untying the bow tie and running her fingers over the broad expanse of chest, and she wished she had asked him up to her apartment. She caught her breath at the uncharacteristic erotic thought.

Consequently she blushed fire-engine red when, straightening to his full height, he strolled across and quite naturally took her arm, and looked down at her.

‘I was right, you look enchanting. Shall we go?’

Her, ‘Hello, Dex,’ was greeted with the briefest of slanting smiles before he was ushering her out of the door and into a chauffeur-driven limousine.

‘I don’t keep a car in London. I am not here that often, and when I am I use a rental service. So I hope you don’t object to a driver this evening, Beth. Plus, I thought we might celebrate our meeting with a few glasses of champagne, and I never drink and drive.’

‘A very laudable resolution,’ she managed to say calmly. She cast him a sidelong glance, almost furtively. He was as devastatingly attractive as she remembered, and, sitting next to him in the close confines of the back seat of the car, with the pressure of his thigh lightly pressing against her own and the soft elusive scent of his aftershave teasing her nostrils—or maybe it was simply the scent of the man himself—she was completely overwhelmed by Dex, the car—everything.

A large hand closed over her small hands, which were clenched in her lap. ‘Beth, really. ‘‘A laudable resolution’’? My knowledge of your language is excellent, but what does that mean?’ he asked with a chuckle, and lifted her hands to his lips so she was forced to look at him, his silver eyes glinting down into hers. ‘Beth, I like you for your openness, your honesty. Don’t go all stuffy on me now.’

The touch of his lips on her hand and the humour in his gaze excited her, but also calmed her nerves. If he wanted honesty he could have it, she thought, secretly pleased. ‘You’re right, Dex, ‘‘laudable’’ was a bit much. But you make me rather nervous. I’ve never been out with a man quite like you before, or sat in a chauffeur-driven limousine. It’s quite awesome.’

He lowered her hands to her lap and gave them a gentle squeeze before letting go. ‘You are not frightened of me, Beth, are you?’ he asked softly, but before she could respond he added, ‘You have no need to be. I have only your best interests at heart, and I am sure you will very soon get used to my great wealth and everything else; women usually do.’

Beth looked up, not all sure she liked his last comment, and thought she caught a flash of something very like cynicism in his eyes. But, realising she was watching him, Dex turned the full force of his megawatt smile on her small face and dropped a brief, swift kiss on her forehead.

‘Don’t look so worried, little one. Tonight we are going to have fun, I promise.’

The brief kiss banished all her doubts, and half an hour later, seated opposite Dex in the most exclusive restaurant in London, she wondered why she had worried. He was the perfect companion. Articulate, charming, Dex ordered the meal with an efficiency and knowledge of fine food Beth marvelled at. But he was not above making her laugh with his description of the waiter.

Very quickly he made her feel completely at ease, though every so often he very gently flirted with her, making her aware by a touch, a glance, of his purely masculine interest in her as a woman. Or maybe not so pure… Beth did not know, and she had not the experience to make a judgement.

They had exchanged snippets of information about themselves. Dex was thirty-three to her twenty-one. He knew she was a graphic artist, and she knew he was extremely wealthy, as he told her in great detail how many companies he owned. In fact, his wealth struck the one discordant note in her otherwise rapt fascination with the man.

‘You’re not one of those bleeding-heart radical types who object to a man being disgustingly rich, are you?’ he asked jokingly.

For a second she felt his humour did not ring true. But, dismissing the uneasy thought with a toss of her head, she aimed for a sophisticated response.

‘Not at all. Someone once said that no woman can be too rich or too thin, or something like that, and I’m inclined to agree.’ She wasn’t sure she meant what she had said, but it seemed to please Dex.

‘Good girl! I knew the moment I saw you you were my type of woman,’ he drawled, watching her with a gleam of satisfaction in his grey eyes.

Beth felt the colour rise in her cheeks. She was delighted he thought she was his type, but not absolutely sure if she had been complimented or insulted.

By the time the main course arrived Beth had just about got her chaotic emotions under control, and was actually beginning to feel as if she had known the man for years.

‘Honestly, Dex, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all this.’ She eyed her duck and cranberry sauce. It looked delicious, but they had started with roasted asparagus salad, followed by a fish course—A trio of smoked fish with beetroot—and now, with the main course before her, she wondered if she would ever get through it all.

‘Eat what you like and leave the rest. For myself, I am a big man with a big appetite. I intend to enjoy…’ His silver eyes gleamed with blatant desire as they caught and held hers, then deliberately dropped to the soft valley of her breasts, delicately exposed by the neckline of her dress. ‘Everything…’ he husked, his gaze lifting to her face. ‘It is the only way to live.’

Beth was not stupid, she knew what he meant, and she could feel the colour rising in her cheeks yet again, as her stomach clenched. She knew it had nothing to do with the food but everything to do with the potent appeal of the man opposite.

‘Eat. I did not mean to embarrass you,’ Dex offered quietly. ‘But you have the most amazing effect on me. I look at you and I want you in my bed.’

Beth gasped out loud, and his eyes narrowed with piercing intensity on her flushed face.

‘You know this is true, and you feel the same; don’t try to deny it,’ he commanded arrogantly, but then in a softer tone he added, ‘But perhaps now is not the time to talk of such matters.’

She wanted to deny it. His supreme confidence was somehow insulting. But she knew what he said was true, so instead she contented herself with fiddling with her fork and asking, ‘Are you always so blunt on a first date?’

‘No,’ he said, and, reaching across the table, he covered the hand holding her fork, ‘Only with you, Beth.’ Suddenly grinning, he added, ‘So, tell me more about yourself. Your friends, parents, whatever. Talk to me, so I can take my mind off your luscious body and get back to my meal, hmm?’

He was impossible, but Beth found herself grinning back and doing exactly as he had said. ‘Family—I don’t have much. I don’t remember my father; he died when I was a baby. I’ve spent most of my life in Devon with my mother. She had aspirations to be a famous singer, but unfortunately also a tendency to get married a lot. She is on her fifth husband now and lives in Australia. I haven’t seen her for three years, though we do write occasionally.’ Beth broke off, raised her glass to her mouth and took a gulp of champagne. She didn’t really like talking about Leanora, and sometimes it still upset her, though she never liked to admit it.

‘That explains a lot,’ Dex murmured.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’ Lost in her own thoughts for a moment, she had missed his comment.

‘That must have hurt a lot,’ Dex repeated softly.

‘No, not really,’ she quickly assured him, comforted by the sympathy in his tone. ‘I got used to it, and on the plus side I acquired a stepbrother—Mike. If it hadn’t been for Mike I wouldn’t have met you.’ She stopped. The champagne was going to her head and she was revealing more than she meant to.

Dex, a smile curving his firm mouth, lifted his glass. ‘A toast to a much-married mum and Mike, without whom you and I would never have met.’

Embarrassed, but oddly pleased, Beth lifted her glass and returned the toast. Replacing her glass on the table, she said, ‘No more champagne; I think I’ve had quite enough.’ And, pushing her almost empty plate slightly forward, she continued, ‘No more food, either. It was delicious, but I really can’t eat any more.’

‘I don’t have that problem,’ Dex drawled, clearing his plate and placing the cutlery on it. ‘In fact, I think I’ll have a dessert; I love sweet things.’ And, catching her green eyes with his, he continued throatily, ‘You are the sweetest thing I have met in a long time. Can I have you, Beth?’ Then, tossing his head back, he laughed out loud at her look of confusion.

She wanted to be offended but his laughter was infectious, so she smiled, then laughed as well. ‘You know, I’ve discovered something about you, Dexter Giordanni,’ she finally managed to say pertly. ‘You are an incorrigible flirt.’

‘Only with you, Beth, only ever with you.’

If only she could believe him, she thought, gazing at him as he paid the bill, adding a very generous tip. She had been out with plenty of men—well, not plenty, more like half a dozen. Her last date had been with a young man from the office. She had spent an enjoyable evening in a local wine bar with Dave, but they had both decided without a word being spoken they were destined to be workmates and nothing more. Now, watching Dex, she knew this was different. She could very easily fall in love with him, and it frightened her even as it excited her.

He turned his head and caught her staring, and one dark brow arched enquiringly. ‘Have I got a smudge on my nose?’ he asked, perfectly aware she had been studying him.

‘No, you have a very nice nose,’ she shot back. ‘I was simply thinking what a lovely evening it has been.’ That was not exactly a lie, she told herself, rather proud of her ability to appear cool and collected in his sophisticated presence, when inside her heart was beating like a drum.

‘Has been? But it is not over yet; the night has hardly begun.’ Getting to his feet, he took the shawl the waiter handed to him. ‘Come on, you look the sort of girl who likes to take chances. I will show you my new casino.’

Beth stood up and smoothed her skirt down over her slender hips, intensely aware of Dex’s blatantly sensual gaze following the movement of her hands as his own large hands carefully slipped her wrap around her shoulders,

‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured, his hands lingering for a moment on her shoulders. His dark head bent and his lips brushed the top of her head. ‘Let’s get out of here before I make a fool of myself.’ Slipping his hand down to the small of her back, he guided her out of the restaurant and into the waiting limousine.

Inside, seemingly casually, Dex curved his long arm around her shoulders and pulled her swiftly close to him. All Beth’s hard-won poise deserted her in an instant, and, looking up at him through the thick brush of her lashes, she quivered at the glimpse of fire that blazed in his eyes.

‘You’re safe with me, Beth,’ he murmured softly.

‘I know.’ Beguiled by his many compliments and real desire for her, she believed him, and snuggled into his side with a deep sigh of contentment. The rest of the trip was accomplished in a companionable silence until the car stopped.

Sitting up, Beth glanced out of the window. ‘Is this it?’ she said feeling rather disappointed. There were no neon lights or flashing signs, simply an elegant black and gold door in the centre of what looked like a typical Georgian terraced house.

‘Discretion is the name of the game,’ Dex offered, helping her out of the car. Taking her hand in his, he led her across the pavement and through the black door into another world.

As soon as they walked into the entrance foyer a young woman dashed to take her wrap. Then a hard-faced man appeared and Dex introduced her—the casino manager, a Mr Black, a name Beth found very appropriate; he was swarthy, stocky, and looked dangerous while his voice oozed charm.

She had never been in a casino before, but when Dex ushered her into a huge room with a graceful curved staircase leading to the upper floor it didn’t take her long to realise it was a very serious business. Glittering crystal chandeliers illuminated a dozen or more tables surrounded by smartly dressed people. The walls were lined with slot machines, like an army of alien, robotic guards, with yet more people seated in front of them. But it was the avid expressions on the customers’ faces that Beth found somehow chilling.

‘You look a little stunned,’ Dex opined, with a dry smile. ‘Surely you have been in a casino before?’

‘No, I haven’t, and I can’t believe so many people are prepared to waste money this way,’ she said bluntly. Her answer seemed to surprise him, but not for long.

‘Then you ain’t seen nothing yet, babe,’ he drawled in a mock-American accent. His grey gaze swept down over the soft curve of her breasts and back to her face, and with a seductive look, he added, ‘Stick with me, babe, and I’ll show you a good time.’ And, putting an arm around her waist, he chuckled at her look of outrage.

‘Fool,’ Beth laughed, realising he was teasing, and gave him a sharp dig in the ribs with her elbow.

‘I know, but I can’t resist teasing you.’ At that point Mr Black said something in Dex’s ear, and the amusement left his face.

‘Sorry, Beth, I need to go to the office, but I’ll show you the rest on the way. This is just for starters. The bar and restaurant are through there.’ He gestured with his free hand as they reached the bottom of a grand staircase. ‘Up here there are two more gaming rooms, where the stakes rise accordingly. Plus the offices,’ he informed her as they ascended the stairs, his arm dropping from her waist.

Beth watched him as they walked up, and saw a stranger. Dex was suddenly all efficiency, no trace of humour left. Tall and aloof, he strode up the stairs and through to another room, taking deferential greetings from various people with a word, or a nod, and a smile that never reached his eyes.

His plain black dinner suit and conservative white shirt could not conceal the powerful muscled body beneath, or a certain air of danger about him. The other people in the room faded into insignificance beside him. It was obvious to Beth, and everyone else, that this man was the master of all he surveyed, the hard-headed, powerful ruler of the lot; the Boss. It wasn’t just his height or his build, but the intangible aura he carried with him, a dynamism that radiated from him, a supreme confidence in his own worth that made weaker mortals shrink back.

Beth shuddered; a ghost is walking over my grave, she thought, but dismissed the notion when Dex halted her with a large hand curving over her shoulder. The touch of his hand on her bare flesh was enough to make her forget every rational thought.

His dark head bent towards her, and in her heightened emotional state she imagined he was going to kiss her, but she was sadly disillusioned when he said starkly, ‘This room is for the high rollers, where the real money changes hands. Black is getting you some chips so you can play.’

Play! She wouldn’t know where to start. Curious, Beth looked around: no slot machines here, but a peculiar silence, punctuated by the occasional voice of a croupier. Around the large green baize tables were expensively dressed customers, some obviously from the Middle East, judging by their garb, and the few ladies present, mostly old, wearing enough jewellery to pay off the National Debt.

‘Here, Beth.’ Dex thrust a handful of round tokens at her. ‘Enjoy yourself. I won’t be long.’

‘Can’t I come with you?’ she blurted, suddenly feeling completely out of her element. ‘I’m not a gambler, and I don’t think I want to be.’

His fingers caught her chin and he tilted her head up. ‘You look stunningly beautiful, Beth, and I will get my business concluded much quicker without you to distract me. Understand?’ His grey eyes roamed over her delicate features. ‘You will be perfectly all right on your own; no one will bother you.’ His glance slid down her body like a warm caress, and back to her face again. ‘Everyone knows you’re with me,’ he ended with unconscious arrogance, and, letting his hand slide from her chin to her shoulder, he squeezed her gently in a casual reassuring gesture.

‘Yes… w-well,’ she stuttered. Her flesh burned beneath his fingers and her body was aware of him with every pore.

She tore her gaze from his and glanced distractedly around the room. Her green eyes widened in astonishment as she caught sight of someone she knew—Paul. Even in this crowd he stood out.

Tall, his blond hair turning here and there to white, his exquisitely tailored dinner suit fitting his slim, elegant body to perfection, he looked what he was: a man of distinction. The lines of character in his face reflected his fifty-three years, but in no way detracted from his handsome features.

Paul Morris… He looked across, his blue eyes surprised when they met Beth’s. She watched as he made his way towards her, determination in every stride. But he was supposed to be in Italy. What was he doing back so soon? she wondered. Her lips curled in a slow smile. At least she wouldn’t be alone.

She glanced back at Dex, whose hand hadn’t left her shoulder. ‘Okay,’ she said. But he was not looking at her, instead he was watching Paul approach, with a dark frown on his face.

‘No, you are right. You are coming with me,’ Dex ordered curtly, his hand dropping to her waist and hauling her hard against him.

‘Bethany, what on earth are you doing here?’ Paul stopped a foot away, and, taking in the proprietary arm around her waist, he flashed a hard smile at Dex. ‘Giordanni. I’d heard you were buying the place. Congratulations.’ Then, turning worried blue eyes back to Beth, he continued, ‘I didn’t know you knew Mr Giordanni, Bethany.’

‘And I thought you were in Italy,’ she shot back. She had dined with him ten days ago and he had told her he was going to his estate in Italy.

‘Oh, I was, and I will be again in another few hours.’ Paul glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist. ‘This is just a flying visit—twenty-four hours. I had some business that couldn’t wait. That’s why I didn’t call you. But enough about me. What are you doing here? You don’t gamble,’ he ended sternly.

Beth opened her mouth to answer but was forestalled by Dex.

‘The lady is with me, Morris.’ His fingers nipped her waist, demanding her compliance. ‘And we have urgent business to attend to in private—haven’t we, darling?’ Dex’s grey eyes captured hers and his head lowered, his firm mouth brushing her parted lips. It was a fleeting kiss, but it was enough to set her heart racing, and she stared back at him, too dumb to answer.

‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Beth.’ Paul said, bringing her back into the conversation.

She looked at Paul and smiled a misty, bemused smile. ‘Yes, Paul.’

Paul sighed, a wry smile of acceptance curving his mouth. She was a grown woman; it had to happen some time.

‘You’re a man of the world, Morris, I’m sure you understand,’ Dexter cut into the silence. ‘Enjoy your gambling and excuse us.’ And with a deft twist Dexter spun Beth round.

She only had time to call, ‘See you, Paul,’ over her shoulder as, with almost indecent haste, Dex urged her towards the back of the room and a large nondescript door. The incongruous note was the man who guarded it and opened it at their approach. He looked like a heavyweight boxer with the nose to match.

She registered that they were in a dimly lit hallway, and had opened her mouth to ask where the fire was—she would have quite liked to talk to Paul—when she registered the stark fury in Dex’s steely eyes.

‘Old man Morris a friend of yours, is he?’

‘Yes, a very good—’ She never got the chance to finish the sentence.

Dex pushed her back against the wall, his dark head swooping down, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss of pure male dominance. Shocked by his sudden aggression, the fierce pressure of his mouth, the feel of his huge body hard against her much smaller frame, she instinctively struggled to break free. But she was helpless against his superior strength, and his mouth ground against hers with a demanding arrogance that was as exciting as it was alien to her.

Then, suddenly, something peculiar happened. One second she was fighting him and the next she felt her body melting against his as his lips gentled against her mouth. His kiss softened, his tongue traced the outline of her mouth, his teeth nibbled gently on her bottom lip until, with a sigh of complete surrender, she opened her mouth to him. She lifted her hands, her fingers tangling in the silky black thickness of his hair, and kissed Dex back without realising what she was doing.

His mouth burned against hers, his tongue toying with hers in an erotic, thrusting dance. Her hands slid to his broad shoulders. She felt his muscles tense beneath the smooth fabric of his jacket and trembled as his hand slid down her naked throat, his long fingers tracing the soft curve of her breast and palming its lush fullness in his hand, before sliding lower, tracing the indentation of her waist, the soft flare of her hips. It was only when she felt his hand stroke up her leg to her naked thigh she began to panic again. ‘No.’ Beth uttered a cry of protest and closed her hand around his strong wrist.

Dex finally raised his head, his breathing surprisingly unsteady. ‘Stockings as well. What are you trying to do to me?’ he groaned as he slid his hand from under the hem of her short dress and, drawing away from her, brushed his ruffled hair from his brow. They stared at each other, neither one capable of speech for a moment. But it was Dex who recovered first.

‘I guessed you would be dynamite, but I admit even I am surprised at exactly how explosive we are together.’ His grey eyes glittered down into hers. She stared back, her pulse thudding erratically, her green eyes wide and bemused. She was so stunned by her own violent reaction, she couldn’t speak.

‘I was right; I should have left you to the gaming tables. You are more than a distraction; you’re a lethal weapon, lady.’ He grinned, a self-deprecating smile, and, clasping her hand in his, he added, ‘Come and I will show you the rest of my newly acquired toys, before we get into any more trouble.’

Beth was grateful for his matter-of-fact attitude; it helped to calm her leaping responses. Then Mr Black appeared at the end of the hall and it was back to business for Dex. They left her sitting in a functional office and retired to an inner sanctum, Dex having explained that it was the manager’s office and also the strongroom.

Beth spent the rest of their evening together in an emotional haze, trying to deal with her chaotic response to Dex. She was glad when, on returning to the outer office, he suggested taking her home. In the car he arranged to call for her the next morning at ten, and, on walking her to the door of her apartment, the light kiss he pressed on her lips was warm and somehow reassuring.

Tired, but happy, she crawled into bed, expecting to sleep. But she lay awake for hours, her mind reliving the events of the night. The intimate dinner with Dex, the sound of his deep, sexy voice, the touch of his hand. She tossed restlessly, her body unnaturally warm, her breasts hardening as she remembered the casino, and the sudden passionate interlude on the way to the office.

She turned over onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow. Any more erotic memories, Beth told herself sternly, and she would never sleep. Closing her eyes, she tried to make her mind blank, but something niggled at her conscience until finally she remembered.

Dex had thrust the chips in her hand and told her to play. It had been odd… One minute he had been determined to leave her at the gaming tables, and yet he had changed his mind in a flash when she had spoken to Paul. Maybe Dex was jealous! Surely that proved he was as smitten with her as she was with him. On that happy notion, Beth drifted off to sleep.