Читать книгу Propositioned Into A Foreign Affair / Seduced Into A Paper Marriage - Catherine Mann, Maureen Child - Страница 12

Bella gripped the edge of the winter-cool windowsill to keep from falling straight into Sam’s muscular arms. Even the romantic Marseille skyline twinkling beyond the pane seemed to be special-ordered for seduction. With the power of his kiss still zinging through her veins, she couldn’t deny the obvious to him, much less to herself.

She wasn’t sure why he affected her so much, so quickly. She didn’t like to think of herself as shallow, falling into bed with a man because of his looks. But then hadn’t she done just that with Ridley?

God, even thinking of how easily he’d tossed her aside still hurt. Ridley had said he loved her. He’d even discussed getting married. All lies, lies she hadn’t seen through because she’d been too caught in the romantic air of filming her grandparents’ story. She’d been ripe for the picking when Ridley showered her with his flowery charm.

Apparently he was an even better actor than she’d given him credit for.

She scrubbed memories of him from her brain. Thoughts of him now, while she was with Sam, felt disloyal somehow. For tonight, in this moment, she would be totally with this man, a man who issued bold, blunt statements of fact rather than fake, empty, flattery.

Yes, she wanted Sam. Yes, she needed something to ease the pain inside her and it seemed being with him might help her forget for at least a night. But no way could she let him think she was a total pushover.

She tipped her chin, the heat of his touch still tingling. “You’re certainly not lacking in the ego department.”

He trailed a finger along the lapel of her bathrobe. “I’m only stating facts here. You’re a gorgeous woman. I would have to be dead not to notice.”

His words soothed her wounded ego. People complimented her often enough, but so many of them were sycophants and suck-ups, she discounted much of what they said. She couldn’t miss the straightforward sincerity in Sam’s eyes.

Still, a wounded part of her needed to push. “A person’s worth is about more than looks.”

“Of course.” He stepped closer, the tangy scent of his aftershave tempting her to breathe deeper. “But initial, animal attraction shouldn’t be discounted.”

“Is that what’s happening here?” she asked, even when she already knew the answer to that one.

She was completely out of her depth, wavering on weak-kneed hunger for him, and it was a feeling unlike any she’d ever experienced. Animal attraction sounded just about right for her instinctual need to touch him.

“What do you think?” He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, broad palms gently massaging away her tension.

And self-control.

“I’m thinking that maybe you believe sleeping with me might make for good publicity, or that you want the novelty of sleeping with an actress.” Had she actually said that? She hadn’t even known the fear existed until the words fell out of her mouth.

“Damn, lady, that’s a hefty load of insecurities.” He gave her shoulders a final squeeze before pulling his hands back. “Let’s unpack that one issue at a time.” He held up one finger. “First, I don’t need you or the damn press in order to be successful. I’m managing quite fine on my own. In fact, I could buy your family business twice over.” He ticked off a second finger. “Second, if I wanted novelty, there are other women I could turn to who wouldn’t accuse me of chasing them for their money.”

Her eyebrows shot upward. “You really aren’t lacking in ego.”

“Women chase me for my money. That’s nothing to be proud of.”

A hesitant smile tipped her mouth. “I really don’t have anything you need.”

“Now, there you’re wrong.” He stepped closer, his body totally flush against hers, his hard muscles a sweet temptation against her.

“I am?” she gasped, the musky scent of him swirling through her with that one breath.

“Since the second I saw you running down that hall, I have wanted to get closer to you. So much so that I’m damn near about to explode if I don’t get my mouth on some part of you soon.”

The intensity of his rumbling voice stroked her senses as artfully as his touch, his kiss, everything about this moment drugging her, dragging her away from any good intentions.

She knew he had a reputation with women, and in a strange way that made this encounter somehow safe. She didn’t have to worry about risking a relationship. Her heart wouldn’t be in jeopardy.

Casual affairs had never been her style, but then her life had never been this upside down. Why not take what she needed? What he so clearly wanted, too.

Maybe she’d been hoping for a little adventure when she’d taken the elevator up to his private suite tonight. But then, perhaps being wrapped in Sam Garrison’s arms was the balm her wounded spirit needed. And who better to seek this moment of mindless pleasure with than a man who knew all about the joys of hot, one-time encounters?

“Birth control?” she asked, that issue the last hurdle between her and jumping into his bed.

“In the other room.” His hand slid behind her back, anchoring her against him. “Is that a yes?”

She touched his face, her fingers testing his raspy five-o’clock shadow. “Yes, definitely yes.”

A low growl of appreciation his only response, he scooped her off her feet and carried her across the sitting area to the door ajar, leading into his bedroom. Dim lighting from the crystal chandelier showcased the king-size bed with a large painted panel of the French countryside over the bed.

The burgundy-and-gold brocade comforter was turned back invitingly. Champagne waited in a bucket by the bed along with chocolate-covered strawberries.

She thumped him on the shoulder lightly. “You were planning this all along when you placed the order for supper?”

“What can I say? I was hopeful as hell from the second you slammed into my chest wearing nothing more than a sheet.”

So he’d been hopeful. Yet he’d still given her plenty of chances to say no. He might be a player, but he was a player with honor.

Time to stop thinking.

Time to feel and forget.

Raising her face for his kiss, she smoothed her hands over his hair, finally allowing herself the indulgence of feeling its texture. Soft along the top, a bit bristly as his hair tapered off at his neck. She savored the pleasure of being kissed by a man who knew how to do it so beautifully well.

Beside the sprawling king-size bed, he lowered her to her feet, her toes nearly disappearing in the carpet. Her hands roved his back, the fine fabric of his shirt soft against her fingers, a thin barrier over the hard muscled expanse. A thin barrier she quickly unbuttoned and stroked away to reveal the cut of muscles, more defined than she’d imagined. And her imagination had been darn impressed.

What other pleasant surprises waited for her? He had far more clothes on than she did and she did not intend to be the only one naked in this room.

Desperation gripped her with a frantic need to soak up everything she could from her time with him. This was her amnesia drug of choice. A way to forget everything. A way to relieve the tension Henri had said riddled her muscles. She couldn’t imagine herself in a relationship anytime soon and she couldn’t see herself indulging in a string of meaningless encounters. This, Sam, could be her last chance for the sweet pleasure of a man’s bold stroke for quite a while to come.

He kissed his way down the sensitive curve of her neck, nudging aside her robe with his chin, only an inch. She’d expected him to whip away the belt quickly. Instead he took his time, lavishing attention in the curve of her shoulder.

“Faster,” she said, unbuckling his pants frantically as he toed off his shoes and socks.

“Slower,” he commanded, lowering her to the bed, sinking her into the downy fullness. Her robe parted. He froze for an instant before he exhaled hard. “I knew you were beautiful, and it’s obvious you have a great body, but damn. Just damn.”

Maybe he was only dishing out flattery to win her over…Hey wait, he didn’t have to win her over anymore. She was already naked and ready in his bed.

Unwilling to wait any longer, she arched up and hooked her thumbs in his waistband. “How about we get rid of those pants so I can enjoy you, too?”

His hands covered hers as she swept away his trousers and boxers, the bristly hair on his muscular thighs sending a shower of awareness stinging through her. She let her eyes rove him in a “wow” moment all her own. His broad shoulders spoke of strength beyond the boardroom, a strength she’d experienced firsthand when he’d so effortlessly carried her. She glanced back up to his angular face—handsome in a stark way—softened by an intriguing dimple in his chin.

In a flash of insight, she realized she’d chosen Ridley’s opposite. Other than dark hair, Sam shared little in common with her more wiry, smoothly good-looking ex-lover. She shoved away thoughts of another man.

No one and nothing else would intrude on this.

Sam tapped her on the shoulder lightly, encouraging her to fall back on the mattress. He snagged a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket beside the bed. Deftly, he popped the magnum, angling it over her body so the frothy overflow splashed along her stomach.

“Sam!” she squealed at the cold kiss of bubbles against her overheated flesh.

He dribbled champagne along her stomach. Cool droplets gleamed on her skin, sending a shiver through her. He dipped his head to taste and tease her with his tongue. Lower, lower and lower still he slowly dribbled a thin trail of amber liquid between her legs.

Wicked determination lit his eyes as he tasted her. Carefully, again and again, just enough to tease her higher without sending her over the edge.

He glanced up at her with heavy lidded eyes. “You make me drunk.”

“We didn’t have that much wine with dinner.” She wouldn’t be able to delude herself later that this had been an alcohol-induced mistake.

He gripped her hips, his naked body sliding up and over hers. “You misunderstand. I said ‘you make me drunk.’”

“You flatter me.”

“I am known for being brutally honest.”

His undisguised admiration numbed her bruised ego more effectively than any bottle of champagne. Bella flipped Sam to his back, leaned toward the silver tray by the ice bucket and plucked up a chocolate-covered strawberry between her teeth. She brought her mouth to his and shared.

He nipped at the fruit, closer and closer until their lips met. His kiss tasted of strawberries and champagne, and she couldn’t deny the power of his touch along her skin. His touch brought the perfect forgetfulness.

Sam held her kiss while reaching to the bedside table for protection. He sheathed himself before she even had time to totally register what he was doing, but grateful all the same that he’d possessed a whisper of restraint enough to do so.

He gripped her hips and positioned her over him, nudging against her as he stared up into her eyes. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, taking him, letting him take her with bold strokes that scattered any remaining rational thought.

Heat rose and she threw herself into that swirl of sensation. Total oblivion. Complete forgetfulness of all the things that had driven her here in the first place. Into his bed.

She writhed more urgently against him, ready for release, almost there already… He flipped her to her back and took control and kept that sweet finale from her, coaxing her to the edge again and again until her fingernails scored his back.

Still, he tormented her by slowing the pace, damn him. She’d had enough of men ruling her life and her emotions. She would take what she wanted, when she wanted it.

Bella locked her legs around his hips, sensation rolling through her as fast as their wet bodies slid against each other. Almost…Almost…

There.

Her muscles tensed as pleasure pulsed through her so hard and fast a cry burst free. Dimly she registered his hoarse growl of completion as she rode the wave into total satisfaction.

Replete, she sagged beneath him into the fluffy comforter. The scent of champagne, strawberries and lovemaking filled the air, but she knew it would all fade soon enough.

Her escape from reality would end at sunrise.

Sun peeking on the horizon, Sam tucked the sheet more securely around Bella as he carefully slid from the bed. Her hair splayed over the pillow, her bare arm gripping the coverlet as if securing it for another great escape.

Muffin stared at him quietly from the foot of the bed, wide eyes unblinking, Billy Idol snarl in place. He’d never been much of a dog person, but at least the mutt wasn’t an annoying yippy barker.

He shifted his attention back to Bella. No question that Ridley guy had done a number on her ego. The rat’s timing sure sucked, with her grandmother’s illness and her true parentage coming out.

She’d mentioned the press had already started printing stories about the mess. Media hounds would eat up her misfortune faster than wolves devoured a fresh carcass. The very reason he preferred to stay as far away from them as possible.

By all rights he should say goodbye to Bella once she woke. He’d certainly intended to when planning out this seduction.

He’d expected great sex. But he hadn’t expected to want more.

She’d made it clear this was a one-night-only deal for her, too. Now he had to convince her otherwise.

He wasn’t sure how long it would take for them to work each other out of their system. He wasn’t even sure how long he could put up with the media circus that would undoubtedly follow her wherever they went together.

The one thing he did know? He would have to tread warily with her, given her recent experience with men. Of course, he wasn’t an inept jackass like that Ridley moron.

A soft knock sounded from beyond the sitting area, out in the hall.

Right on time.

Sam shrugged into his robe and strode past the remains of their meal to answer the door. Bella’s mutt pattered across the floor to join him. Sam blocked the pup with his foot.

His personal assistant, a middle-aged Englishman, stood in the hall, his eyes going wide for a flash at the sight of the dog. “Here are the clothes you ordered for Miss Hudson, along with a new room key.”

“Thank you, Parrington.” Sam stayed in the entry, not wanting to expose Bella to the other man’s eyes. “And the security breach?”

“One of the ladies at the registration desk started dating the photographer a couple of weeks ago.” Parrington reached for the PDA clipped to his belt. “I have the name here.”

“No need to tell me now. Just send the information to my e-mail. The guy probably seduced the woman for her connections here.” A self-serving ass just like his own father. “Thank you for looking into this. I appreciate that no more stress will be visited on Bella Hudson while she is with us.”

“Rest assured.” His assistant nodded crisply.

“Good. Good. Well done.” Sam closed the door again and stared back into the bedroom at Bella. She still slept soundly.

His body stirred at just the sight of her. He wasn’t sure what made her different, but he still wanted her even after their night filled with lovemaking and what he wanted, he got.

He knew she’d only slept with him as a balm to her bruised ego. No doubt she planned to hotfoot her way out of here when she woke. Most times, that would have been a relief. But he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet. He had other plans.

Plans to delay her leaving France.

Plans to get her back in his bed.

Mind set, he picked up the phone and dialed.

Bella picked through the layers of sleepy fog until she could pry her eyes open. She blinked twice and…

Oh, my God. She’d really slept with Sam Garrison because sure enough, she could hear him in the shower. What the hell had she been thinking?

She scrubbed her tousled hair off her forehead and stretched, her body tender from a night of uninhibited lovemaking. She eyed the empty champagne bottle and a fast flush heated her face. She eyed the clock and groaned again at how late she’d slept.

What seemed like such a good idea last night now seemed totally reckless. How could she have thought she could sleep with a man without giving something of herself?

The shower turned off.

No, no, no, she wasn’t ready to face him yet, wasn’t sure if she would ever be. All of her reasons for jumping into bed with him—her breakup, her parents’ marital train wreck—now had her eying the door for a fast escape before she risked even a corner of her already bruised heart.

She inched quietly out of the bed, farther and farther until one leg slipped off the mattress. She toed the floor and eased herself the rest of the way out from under the covers. Careful not to make a sound. Determined to get away before he finished his shave and she had to make morning-after talk with a man she barely knew but had slept with anyway.

She prided herself on being so much better than many of the promiscuous Hollywood party types. Hell, she’d even managed to keep her clothes on in her movies so far. She was a serious actress, a deep person who rescued pound puppies rather than spending a gazillion dollars on a vanity pet.

And yet at the first sign of heartache, she’d thrown away her clothes and inhibitions.

Speaking of clothes, she needed something to wear. She would settle for the robe, if need be—

Her gaze fell on a stack of clothes resting on the gold-striped sofa, Muffin resting her head on top of the pile. Bella raced across the room for the jeans and frilly top—hers. Sam must have sent someone into her room.

She scruffed Muffin’s head before gently moving the dog aside. “Sh…Stay quiet, sweetie.”

Under the dog’s head, a room card rested on top of the clothes. Thank goodness. With a little luck and a lot of stealth, she could make it out of here undetected with her pet.

She scooped up the clothes. Sam’s thoughtfulness tugged at her.

Or was Sam just eager to see her leave by making sure her clothes were ready? Insecurity nipped her heels harder than Muffin bounding after her, bell around her neck chiming.

“Shhh, shhh, shhh, Muffin.”

Bella took off the collar so the bell wouldn’t chime and alert him to her escape. She would put it on again once she returned to her room.

No way in hell did she plan to be featured in any photos—or relationship—with one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.

She slipped on the clothes and her gold Escada sandals quickly, tucked Muffin back in her carrier and made a beeline for the door. Half in, half out, she stared back at the bathroom door. Wistfulness whispered through her. What if they’d showered together?

God, she was a sucker. “What if” nothing. They’d enjoyed amazing sex, two adults who wanted no ties.

It was over.

She closed the door behind her and took the elevator to the penthouse floor. Almost home free. She should walk Muffin, but she wasn’t ready to be seen in public yet. She turned to the elevator operator…

He nodded. “Do you need help with your little pet, mademoiselle?”

She loved it when people read her mind. “Yes, thank you. She just needs a quick walk. Her leash is looped on the side of her cage here,” she rattled off instructions at light speed as if that would bring about her escape all the faster. She passed over Muffin’s carrier, blowing a kiss to her little sweetie.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened and she raced the last few feet to her door, ready for a shower, fresh clothes—and a new hotel. She whipped her key card in and out, shoved open the door.

And she came face-to-face with the last person she expected to see.