Читать книгу Baby Of His Revenge - Дженни Лукас, Jennie Lucas - Страница 10

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CHAPTER TWO

KASSIUS GRABBED A crystal flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, sipped it and wrinkled his nose. Too bubbly. Too sweet. He would have preferred a martini, but then, he would have also preferred to spend the evening driving fast on a curvy road, or getting naked in bed with a beautiful woman, rather than being stuck here at some gala, wearing a tuxedo and surrounded by society revelers, many of whom were already tipsy in spite of the fact it was barely ten o’clock.

The party was hosted by royalty, and guests allowed only by exclusive invitation, so it was well attended. The ballroom was in a grand Belle Époque building off the Avenue Princesse Grace, on a peninsula overlooking the bay. Inside, enormous crystal chandeliers hung from high, painted ceilings, sparkling against gilded walls. An orchestra played music that was ponderous and classical and entirely appropriate, and he didn’t much like that, either. He would have preferred rock and roll, or pop, or rap, or even the music that had once been his mother’s favorite, the blues. But then, his mother had been originally from New Orleans, where the blues were born.

Just like Laney.

Kassius pictured her sweet, pretty face. Her big brown eyes, so straightforward and honest and kind. Strange that he’d barely noticed her before today, or maybe not so strange, the little helpful servant fading invisibly into the wallpaper behind her employer.

But now, that had all changed.

Now she had his full attention.

Since he’d left Mimi’s apartment, he’d already had an investigator run a background check on Laney. Born Elaine May Henry, age twenty-five, from a little town outside New Orleans, graduated high school with top honors but skipped college to go straight to work. Her ailing grandmother and disabled father had needed her income, especially since Laney’s mother had abandoned them years before.

The thought of that abandonment made prickles tighten down Kassius’s neck. He’d been abandoned by a parent, too. His father. And his own sweetly fragile mother, once the sheltered darling of a wealthy family from a far different New Orleans neighborhood than Laney’s, had never recovered.

He pushed the memory away, focusing back on the far more pleasant thought of Laney.

After high school, she’d gone to work as a nanny for a professional football player’s family. Two years later, she’d become personal assistant to a famous chef who specialized in Cajun cooking, with a chain of restaurants, including one in Paris. It was there that, two years ago, Mimi had offered her a job at a large increase in pay, then brought her to Monaco. Through it all, one thing remained constant: Laney worked constantly and sent everything home to her family.

She was kind. Loyal. She hadn’t complained about her boss, even when Kassius had deliberately given her the opportunity. Nor had she lied and given Mimi nonexistent good qualities. When pressed for her opinion, Laney had simply expressed honest gratitude for the generous salary.

And yet, even needing money so badly, she hadn’t asked him for a cent after he’d nearly run her over with his car. She’d barely allowed him to replace the fur coat he’d destroyed, and...he suddenly realized he still owed her a phone. She hadn’t brought it up, even when she needed money so desperately, while he had so much now he never even thought about it anymore.

Oh, yes. Laney Henry interested him. After just a single afternoon in her company, he’d seen old-fashioned values he’d heard about, values that were truly rare: self-sacrifice. Kindness. Honesty. Generosity. Loyalty.

And more than that.

Her warm nature attracted him, like bright sunshine after a dark frozen winter. Was it something in the gentle lilt of her voice? Her accent, which reminded him of the all too brief happiness of his early childhood?

Or was it something far more earthy than that? Was he roused by the novelty of Laney’s petite body and outrageous curves, so different from the tall, stick-thin, cool-to-the-touch mistresses he’d taken over the years, who had left him sexually sated but never quite satisfied?

Whatever it was, he found himself unable to think of anything but her. He found himself hungering for her sunlight and heat and fire. Craving an old-fashioned woman that he could trust—and even control—because of her own good, kindhearted nature. But also desire. Oh, yes.

Interesting.

For so long, he’d planned his revenge. He was so close now, but there was one part of his plan that hadn’t yet fallen into place. When he finally destroyed the old man, revealed his true identity and took everything the man cared about—his failing company, his gaudy pink mansion on Cap Ferrat—Kassius had thought he would already have his own snug home, wife, children. How else could he give the widowed, childless old man one last taunt, by showing him the family he would never see again and the grandchildren who would never have the chance to love him?

Kassius allowed himself a cold smile. Across the ballroom, he could see the old Russian’s gray hair as he spoke with friends. Kassius kept his distance, like a shark observing his prey before he went in for the kill.

He suddenly remembered Laney’s quiet voice. You look sad.

And his own grim reply. Billionaires don’t get sad. We get even.

Strange that Laney knew what it was like to be abandoned by a parent, too. Kassius had been astonished to read that in the report. But it had affected her very differently. Rather than creating impenetrable armor to protect herself, rather than growing hard and defensive, she’d somehow stayed soft, like a flower. Laney gave the world everything she had and held nothing in reserve.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her. To do more than kiss her.

He wondered what it would be like to have her petite, curvaceous body in his arms. To have her look up at him with shining brown eyes and tell him, with a sweet tremble in her husky voice, that she wanted him to take her. That she never wanted to leave him. That she was pregnant with his baby.

The image shouldn’t have turned him on, but it did. A lot.

In the past, he’d never let himself be vulnerable. Becoming too intimate with any woman might allow her to discover the truth of his past, and his real identity, potentially jeopardizing his plans.

Plus, all the women of his acquaintance were like Mimi du Plessis—beautiful, venal, hard as nails. Mimi would betray anyone for the slightest advantage. Or even, he thought, for her own amusement on a cloudy day.

But then, that was exactly why he’d sought her out.

For nearly twenty years, Kassius had plotted his revenge, rising from poverty on the streets of Istanbul, working night and day with one ruthless goal: to destroy Boris Kuznetsov.

But even Mimi, dim-witted and self-centered as she was, had started to grow suspicious about Kassius gathering up the man’s loans and anonymously offering more. They were loans the Russian couldn’t hope to repay. The man was desperate to save his flailing energy company and keep providing for his employees. Even useless ones like Mimi, who was supposedly Kuznetsov Oil’s director of public relations and corporate outreach, but rarely roused herself to do more than attend cocktail parties.

So Kassius had deliberately let her believe he might be pursuing her. He didn’t feel guilty. Mimi du Plessis was well versed in this game, and usually the victor, leaving a trail of broken hearts. She risked only her vanity, not her heart.

But sooner or later, the deception would end. That afternoon, when Mimi had whispered in his ear that she wanted him to handcuff her to a bed and cover her in whipped cream, he’d barely managed to control his revulsion. He wasn’t attracted to Mimi at all. If he handcuffed her to a bed, it would be only so he could leave her more swiftly.

But where was she? Why hadn’t she arrived yet with Laney?

He wanted to see Laney in the gold dress. Coming out of the elevator, he’d seen the gown in the window of the designer boutique on the first floor of the hotel and impulsively bought it for her. Would it fit? Would she wear it? Would it show off those curves barely hinted at in her shapeless white shirt and oversize khaki pants?

Finishing his champagne, Kassius dropped the flute on a passing silver tray and, giving a wide berth to Boris Kuznetsov, he went in search of a martini—and Laney Henry.

He pushed through the well-heeled crowds on the edge of the enormous dance floor, ignoring the inviting smiles of the women and annoyed glares of lesser men. Walking toward the bar, he looked right and left for the glitter of a gold dress.

Then he saw her.

He stopped. Her big brown eyes widened when she saw him. She stopped, too, and as her delectable lips formed his name, all thought of a martini fled his mind.

He’d known Laney would be beautiful.

He’d never imagined this.

The exquisite golden ball gown showed off her hourglass shape, her full breasts and tiny waist. Her skin looked like creamy caramel, with her long dark hair pulled back in a classic chignon. Her long white gloves reached up past her elbows, so the only bare skin revealed was her upper arms, her shoulders and clavicle, with just an enticing hint of cleavage. She was beautiful to him, as fantastical as a princess from a fairy tale.

And so much more alluring than the skinny, hard-eyed blonde now stepping between them, in a tight, short dress made of strategically placed straps that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Kassius! Darling! I’m so happy to see you.” Mimi du Plessis fluttered her fake eyelashes, then, glancing behind her dismissively, gave a fake, tinkly laugh. “You were so kind to send a dress to my assistant. She might have worn overalls otherwise—no fashion sense whatsoever. Laney.” Wrapping her arm around Kassius’s shoulder, Mimi squashed her cheek to his as she turned around to face Laney. “Take a picture of us,” she demanded, “so we can show everyone what a good time we’re having.”

But as Laney obligingly lifted her boss’s crystal-encrusted phone, Kassius detangled himself before she could take a photo. “Thank you, Mimi, but I prefer my privacy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s strange, Kassius. You have no online presence. Searching for you on the internet, one comes up with almost nothing.”

“Tragic, but then, I’m in real estate development, not the entertainment business,” he drawled. His expression changed as he turned to face Laney. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, tilting back her head to meet his gaze. Her dark eyes were wide, her cheeks rosy. “You were so nice to send this dress—what possessed you?”

“You,” he said, taking the phone from her and dropping it into Mimi’s hands. “Dance with me.”

“Dance?” With a troubled glance at her employer, Laney licked her full, pink, delectable lips. Just at that, his body tightened with instantaneous reaction. He nearly groaned aloud. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

“It’s a very good idea,” Mimi said smugly. He was almost surprised she was being so reasonable.

“Come now,” he said firmly. Taking Laney’s gloved hand, he pulled her out onto the marble dance floor, and with a twirl of her skirts, tugged her back hard against his body.

He felt her petite form cradled against him, all soft, lush curves beneath the sparkling gold bodice and wide sweep of skirts. Her skin was bare above her gloves. He had to fight the desire to caress her shoulders, to see if her skin was smooth and satiny as it looked.

“I don’t know how to waltz,” she confessed, trembling as she lifted her gloved hands to his shoulders.

“It’s easy.” He gave her a sensual smile. “I will show you what to do.”

He adjusted one of her hands on his shoulder, and took the other in his own.

“See?” he murmured. “You’re a natural.”

Her lips parted as she looked up at him, so pretty, so gentle, so everything he hadn’t realized he desperately desired until this exact moment.

Yes, his body said. Yes. Yes.

Holding her at the prescribed distance as he led her in a waltz, dancing in time with all the other couples on the ballroom floor, his body hungered. He wanted to get her alone, rip off her clothes and feel her naked body against his. He wanted to be above her. Beneath her. Inside her.

He wanted her in his bed. Tonight. Within the hour. If not sooner.

“Mr. Black...” Laney said falteringly.

“I told you. Kassius.”

“Kassius.” Her lips trembled as she whispered his name. Looking up at him, she tried to smile politely, but as her fingers tightened, he knew that she felt the same overwhelming current between them.

“You’ve done so much for me already,” she said shyly. “Replacing the fur coat. Defending me to the comtesse.” She looked down at her gold ball gown. “But this takes the cake. I’ve never owned anything half so beautiful as this.”

“It made me think of you.” He slowly looked her over. “But seeing you in it now, the gown barely does you justice. You are the star.”

As they continued to swirl around the dance floor, he saw Mimi glowering at them. She’d already grown suspicious about his loans. One word to her employer and she could make it much harder for Kassius to achieve his goal. If he were smart, he knew he wouldn’t pursue Laney like this, flaunting his desire before the other woman’s eyes, injuring her pride.

But he couldn’t stop himself. After twenty years of obsessive focus on one goal, he found he could no more pull away from this intoxicatingly beautiful, warmhearted woman than he could voluntarily stop breathing.

A blush burned Laney’s cheeks as her dark eyelashes swept against her skin. “No one has ever said such...” Then she followed his gaze to Mimi, and her expression shuttered. “Oh,” she said, and the sound was like a wistful sigh. “You really are just trying to make her jealous, aren’t you?” She shook her head and tried to smile, but her eyes seemed to glimmer. “The games rich people play. You should just try being honest.” She abruptly stopped dancing. “Go ask her to dance. And leave me out of it—”

But as she tried to pull away, he held her fast.

“I do not play those kinds of games. I do not need to play them.”

“Then why—”

His eyes flicked toward Mimi du Plessis, in her ridiculously tight bandage minidress, whispering to her friend Araminta. “If I wanted her in my bed, she’d already be flat on her back.”

“That’s a crude thing to say.”

“You said you wanted honesty.”

“It’s not nice.”

“I could have her.” He slowly looked around the dance floor. “I could have most of these women. I know, because I have already had some of them, and the rest have made the invitation clear.”

“Is this your idea of bragging? Telling me you’ve slept around? I’m not impressed that you’ve had so many lovers.”

“No?” His hands tightened on her. “But I am impressed you’ve had so few.”

He heard her intake of breath as her eyes widened. “How can you—”

She cut herself off.

“How can I tell?” He ran one hand down her back. “I can tell in the way you shiver when I touch you.” He cupped her cheek with the other. “I can tell in the way you hold your breath when I look at you.” He twirled her on the dance floor, then pulled her tight against his body. “I can feel it,” he said roughly, “in the way your body trembles against mine.”

Kassius looked down at her. She was so tiny in his arms, he thought, so feminine and vulnerable. And yet it was her vulnerability that most impressed him. He marveled that anyone could be so fearless.

“It’s part of what makes you different,” he said in a low voice. “Your warmth. Your kindness. You’re not just beautiful. You give so much of yourself and ask for so little.”

“I’m...just...ordinary,” she said softly, her dark eyes pleading.

“No.” He shook his head with a slow-rising smile. “You’re far from that.”

“You’re wrong—”

“You refused to take my money, even when I offered it. Refused to speak badly of Mimi, even though she cannot be a considerate employer. You give up your whole life to work, to take care of your family.” He ran his hands gently over the nape of her neck. He yearned to pull her hair out of the prim fastenings of her chignon and let it tumble down her shoulders. Abruptly the fantasy came into his mind of her sitting naked on him, her thighs wide, leaning over to kiss him, long dark hair brushing against his skin as her full breasts pressed against his chest.

Soon. Soon.

With a deep breath, he took hold of himself and continued frankly, “Tonight you look like a princess. But I’m starting to believe it only reflects the way you are inside. There’s something about you I can’t resist...” Leaning forward, allowing his lips to brush against the sensitive flesh of her ear, he whispered, “I want you.”

But as he drew back and looked down at her, a shadow crossed her lovely face. With a small glance back toward her boss, she pulled away from him, her expression sorrowful.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just not interested.”

Kassius hadn’t expected that at all, not with the way he’d felt her trembling in his arms. Had he misjudged her desire?

Then he looked more closely at her beautiful face, at how she’d turned pale beneath the blush on her cheeks, her eyes haunted and black. She was lying. But why?

“Really,” he said evenly.

She nodded furiously, but as the couples around them continued to waltz around where they stood stock-still on the dance floor, she refused to meet his gaze.

“Tell me why.”

“Because...” She licked her lips uncertainly then lifted her chin. “Because you’re a playboy who sleeps around in such a disgusting way.”

“Try harder.”

“You’re not even slightly attractive to me.”

“Explain.”

She looked him over desperately. “You’re too—um—tall.”

He snorted. “Too tall?”

“Fine. I’ll give you a reason,” she snapped. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m just a frigid virgin, all right?”

“The virgin I might believe. But frigid?” Shaking his head, Kassius gave a low laugh. Pulling her closer, he ran his hands over her soft, bare shoulders. He felt her tremble as she looked up at him breathlessly. He could see the shape of her taut nipples through her silky bodice. Running his hands slowly, sensuously, down her arms, he said, “You are far from that.”

She looked at him with big eyes. “Please...please don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because—” She swallowed, then said in a voice so low he had to strain to hear, “If I don’t make you stop pursuing me, my boss says I’m fired. And she’ll make sure I never get another job.”

He was so shocked he almost laughed. “She said what?”

But it was obvious Laney didn’t see it as a joke but a real threat. Her face was anguished. “If I can’t work, how will I support my family? So you have to go away and leave me alone.” Her pleading brown gaze fell to his lips as she whispered, “Just go...”

Her words might be saying one thing, but her body was saying another. She didn’t even know what she was really asking him for. But he did.

Laney was a virgin? He could hardly believe it. He’d never made love to a virgin before. It was almost cruel. It made him desire her even more, when he was already nearly exploding with need, and would also force him to seduce her more slowly. He didn’t know how much more self-restraint he could endure. Where women were concerned, he wasn’t accustomed to it.

The orchestra’s music stopped, and as the other couples left the dance floor, he felt their curious glances as they passed, felt Mimi’s glower from the crowd.

He knew he was making a mistake. He’d always been private to the point of mania, but here, in the literal spotlight, he suddenly didn’t care who might be watching.

Pulling Laney roughly against his body, he tangled his hands in her hair, tilting her chin upward. “Get one thing straight,” he said, searching her gaze ruthlessly. “I don’t give a damn about Mimi or anyone else. I only care about one thing.”

She looked at him defiantly. “And what might that be?”

“Taking what I want,” he said ruthlessly. “And I want you.”

And cupping her face with his hands, he lowered his head and kissed her, right there on the dance floor of the New Year’s Eve ball.

* * *

His lips were soft against hers at first. Laney felt the roughness of his chin, the sweet taste of his mouth.

She had no idea what to do. The one time she’d been kissed before, it had been a total disaster.

But this was different. He was different. As Kassius’s mouth began to move more forcefully against hers, taking rather than asking, she realized she didn’t have to do anything but surrender. Her eyes squeezed shut.

As she relaxed against him, his kiss deepened, and he pushed her lips apart, plundering her mouth. She nearly gasped at the pleasure that went through her, a whoosh of sensation that electrified her from her lips to her earlobes to her breasts and lower still. Her nipples tightened. Low in her belly, she felt a new sensation coil deep inside her.

Pleasure seemed to be exploding from her body like light. She’d never experienced anything like this—never—

“You’re mine,” he whispered roughly against her lips. “Mine.”

She realized she’d tightened her hands against his shoulders, bringing him down hard against her in the kiss. Then he abruptly pulled away, leaving her bereft.

Her eyes flew open, and she saw the orchestra had taken a break—they were alone on the dance floor and the entire ballroom had fallen silent, staring at them. Mimi’s eyes were beaming such lasers of fury Laney feared she might burst into flame. Then she remembered.

“Oh, no,” Laney choked out. Her hands went to her face in dismay. What had she done, letting him kiss her? How could she have been so selfish as to give in to the moment when her family was counting on her? “What have I done?”

“Nothing. Yet.” He sounded almost amused as his larger hand took hers. His dark eyes seared her. “But you will. You’re coming home with me. Now.”

Laney looked up at him, feeling like her whole future was hanging in the balance.

She looked at Kassius in his sleek bespoke tuxedo, so tall and broad shouldered. Power and wealth clung to him as ineffably as his faint scent of cypress and musk.

There was no way a handsome billionaire could actually want Laney. She was just a regular girl. She liked fried chicken and po’ boy sandwiches, not foie gras and caviar. She drank sweet tea, not Dom Pérignon. She bought her clothes from discount warehouses, not based on prestige or even appearance, but comfort and practicality.

She had nothing in common with the typical girlfriends of billionaires—nothing!

“You can’t want me. You can’t possibly want me.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“Why? Because you’re—you. And I’m me.” She could still hardly believe that she was even here, in this illustrious gilded ballroom in Monaco, with its soaring crystal chandeliers, full orchestra and a thousand members of the international jet set. Her only other dance experience had been at senior prom, in a school gymnasium with paper decorations and balloons, a punch bowl and a DJ. She’d been hopeful and excited, wondering if the high school quarterback would kiss her. And look how that night had turned out. “Please just let me go.”

Kassius’s dark eyes glittered. “Is that really what you want?”

No. No. Of course it wasn’t. She felt intoxicated and alive for the first time in her life. She wanted to be beautiful and desired by the most handsome, powerful man on earth, one of the richest men in the world. The thought was like a dream to her. A deliriously impossible dream.

She felt everyone staring at them, the only ones left on the dance floor. The center of attention.

She whispered, “Everyone is staring at us.”

“Staring at you. They’re wondering who you are.”

She gave a low laugh. “I’ve lived here almost two years!”

“As a servant. Invisible.” He stroked her bare shoulder, looking down at her in the shimmering gold gown. “You’re not invisible anymore.”

Because of you, she thought. Her heart was pounding in her throat.

“Come with me. Now. Tonight.” His handsome face was hungry and hard as he took her hand.

She did not—could not—resist. He led her through the ballroom, and a path magically cleared for him—all six foot four, two hundred pounds of muscle—through the crowd.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mimi and Araminta’s thin, shocked faces as they passed by. But she couldn’t think about that now, or her future. All she could do was follow where Kassius led, out of the ballroom and the vast building to the street outside, where a sleek dark car swiftly pulled up to the curb and a uniformed driver hastened to open her door.

Outside, the moon was pearlescent in the dark sky. A ghostlike glow frosted the palm trees swaying in the abrupt hard wind. Winter in Monaco was generally sunny and mild, but sometimes after a rain, the strange rare wind of the mistral would rise, a legendarily violent wind capable of driving men and women mad.

The mistral. It was her only excuse...

Without a word, Kassius pushed her into the backseat of his limo. The door was barely closed behind them, the vehicle just starting to pull out into the street, before Kassius’s mouth was on hers. He pushed her back against the smooth leather, and she closed her eyes, feeling his hands everywhere, over the sparkling layers of her golden gown. His hands ran over her naked shoulders, cupping her face as he kissed her roughly, his mouth searing hers, taking possession without permission or apology. She felt the strength and weight of his body pressing against her.

As he kissed her, he peeled off her long gloves one by one, and as she felt the soft whisper of fabric move slowly down her skin, she shivered from sensation. Her breasts felt heavy beneath the fabric of her strapless bodice, her nipples agonizingly tight and so sensitive as he brushed against her, pushing her beneath him, caressing her, mastering her. She felt bewildered, dizzy.

The passenger door of the limousine suddenly fell open.

She opened her eyes in shock to see that the car was now parked in front of the Hôtel de Carillon. In the heat of their embrace, she hadn’t noticed the drive, the route, even Kassius’s driver and bodyguard sitting at the front. Both of those men were now standing on the sidewalk beside the open door, carefully not looking in their direction.

The doorman, Jacques, had no such discretion. When he came forward, his mouth fell open.

“Mademoiselle Laney?”

Her cheeks went hot with shame as she sat up hurriedly, making sure her breasts weren’t falling out of the bodice of her dress. She could only imagine what she looked like...

“Thank you,” Kassius said coolly, “but I’ll help her out.” Getting out of the limo, he turned and held out his hand. With a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment and humiliation, she tried to keep her face expressionless as he led her past the doorman into the lobby of the residential hotel.

“You’re bringing me home,” she whispered over the lump in her throat. She wasn’t even surprised. She could still hear that harsh voice from long ago. Frigid little virgin...

“Yes,” Kassius said.

“You brought me home before midnight.” She gave him a weak smile. “Like Cinderella.”

They reached the elevator, and the doors opened. He drew her inside and pushed the button.

“That’s the wrong floor. Mimi doesn’t live in the penthouse.”

“But I do.”

Her heart twisted in her chest.

“You do?” she whispered.

He came closer to her in the elevator, looking down at her. He cupped her cheek. “I just bought it.”

“You did?” She looked up at him, feeling dizzy and strange. “Why?”

“I needed a place in Monaco.” His voice was husky. Sexy. “Until I am able to buy a special villa I want on Cap Ferrat.”

“You—you want me to come upstairs with you?” she breathed, hardly knowing what she was saying.

“I do,” he whispered, running his hand down the side of her neck. The edges of his lips curved upward. “And you will...”

Roughly, he pushed her back against the mirrored elevator wall. Her head fell back as she closed her eyes, lost in sensation as he kissed down her neck, her cheek, sucking her earlobe as his hands ran over her bare arms, her shoulders, cupping her breasts through the fabric.

The elevator door opened to the top floor, and for a minute she didn’t, couldn’t, move, just leaned back against the mirror, her knees feeling weak.

So he picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Her sparkly tulle skirts fluttered behind them as he carried her swiftly down the hall.

Held against his powerful chest, Laney looked up at him in a daze as he brought her into the luxurious penthouse suite of the Hôtel de Carillon.

The suite was dark, but she could see the ceilings were two stories high. The furniture was stark and modern, but she barely saw it amid the shadows before her gaze was transfixed by the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the sparkling lights of nighttime Monaco, and beyond that, the vast dark Mediterranean.

Kassius set her down slowly, letting her body drag against his, falling in a cascade of tulle. For a moment, he looked down at her, then with a low growl, he whirled her around so he was looking at her back. She blinked at the view. She saw a few lights of ships floating through the dark sea, like stars in the sky.

She shouldn’t be here. She should go. But she felt like time and reality had fled, as if she were someone else entirely. Someone reckless...

He slowly unzipped her dress, dropping it to the floor. The cool air licked at her skin as he turned her back around to face him. She was almost naked, wearing only a strapless white bra and plain white lace panties. He slowly looked her over. “You are so beautiful.”

And even in the shadows of the penthouse suite, she saw in the hard lines of his face, of his body, that he did desire her. Fiercely.

She should leave. Her brain and heart were begging her to leave—leave now. Because there was only one way this could end. Badly.

But for some reason, her body refused to budge as he pulled off her shoes, one by one.

Rising to his feet, Kassius slipped off his black tuxedo jacket. Taking her hand, he drew her into the bedroom.

Translucent gauze curtains covered the windows and sliding glass door to the balcony. He opened the balcony door, and she took a deep breath of the cool, hard wind, scented of salt sea and golden mimosa flowers in bloom.

Laney stood nearly naked in front of Kassius Black—this handsome, dangerous billionaire who was so much larger than she, in every possible way. She lifted her face to his.

His dark eyes were hungry as he came back toward her, and, nervously, she backed away from him, falling back softly onto his enormous king-size bed, against the large white pillows on the white comforter. Standing over her, he deliberately pulled off his black tie.

Wearing only his white shirt and black tuxedo trousers, he kicked off his shoes and reached toward her on the bed. Slowly, he ran his fingertips down her cheek, then her throat, then the hollow between her breasts. She could not move as his fingertips lightly stroked downward, past her silky strapless white bra to her rib cage and the bare skin of her belly. His hand traced downward, ever downward, to the top edge of her lacy white panties.

She suddenly stopped him with her hand.

“Don’t,” she choked out.

His forehead furrowed. “Why?”

“I’ll only disappoint you.”

“You’re a virgin. How do you know?”

“I know.”

Silvery moonlight streaked through the windows, frosting the gauzy curtains and the hard lines of his cheekbones and jaw as he leaned back, staring down at her incredulously. “You actually think you’re frigid, don’t you?”

“I know I am.”

“Why?”

“The boy who took me to prom...he told me.”

“And you believed him?”

“He would know. He kissed a lot of girls.” A lump rose in Laney’s throat. “Look, it’s almost midnight. You should go back to the party. Find someone who knows how to kiss—”

“I have the one I want.” His fingertips changed course, skimming over the curve of her hips to her bare thighs.

“Look—” she swallowed “—I don’t know why you chose me, whether you’re just slumming or—”

He abruptly dropped his hand.

“You spoke earlier about games, Laney. Let’s play a game now, you and I.”

“What game?”

His gaze locked with hers. “I will prove to you that you are not frigid. That you are a warm, desirable woman. A woman made for pleasure.”

“What if you can’t?”

He gave a low laugh. “I will. All I have to do is touch you—even look at you—to know I am right.”

“And if you’re wrong?” she said desperately, remembering the humiliating night of prom when she was eighteen.

“Then I will pay a forfeit.” He smiled. “Shall we say—one million dollars?”

She gaped at him. “Is that a joke?”

“No.”

“That’s the second time you’ve offered me a million!”

“Is it not enough?” he said lazily, looking at her beneath heavily lidded eyes. “Two million, then. Ten. I am so sure that I can make you gasp with desire, so sure I can make you explode with pleasure, that if I am wrong, Laney, I will pay you ten million dollars.”

Baby Of His Revenge

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