Читать книгу The Billionaire's Virgin Temptation - Michelle Conder, Michelle Conder - Страница 11

‘I DON’T SEE anyone who looks like a pirate,’ Ruby said as she stood on tiptoe to see over the packed dance floor. ‘Are you sure that director is even here?’

‘Katy said he was.’ Molly’s lips tightened determinedly. ‘I have to find him. I’m psyched up to approach him, and who knows when I’ll get another chance like this? It’s not as if I can get a ticket to these kinds of events just by clicking my fingers.’

Ruby gave her sister a faint smile and tried not to look over her shoulder again for the man in the bronzed mask. She’d felt his eyes on her as she’d all but run from the bar, and she’d been so sure he’d follow her she’d been on tenterhooks ever since.

‘I think that’s him,’ Molly whispered, low-level excitement running through her voice.

Ruby’s stomach lurched. Then she realised that Molly hadn’t meant Sam Ventura’s doppelganger and told herself to stop fretting and breathe. It wasn’t Sam. Sam was in LA.

She glanced at the man Molly was so set on meeting and did a double take. The director-slash-pirate was big, blonde and fierce-looking. ‘Are you sure that’s him?’

‘Almost certain. Let’s dance so I can get closer.’

‘You dance, I’ll hold the drinks,’ Ruby said, taking Molly’s half empty cocktail glass and nodding towards the dance floor. The sooner Molly introduced herself to the famous director and begged for an audition for a part in his next movie, the sooner they could leave. ‘Time to walk the gangplank, my lovely.’

Molly surreptitiously smoothed a palm down the side of her gown. ‘I thought you said this was a hare-brained idea?’

It was a hare-brained idea but seeing her confident, madcap sister suddenly nervous, Ruby softened. ‘It’s a great idea. He’s going to love you. Just remember: no public sex.’

Molly smiled at that. ‘Of course not. Sex can come after I’ve won an Oscar for starring in his film and if we fall madly in love with each other.’ She straightened her shoulders and set her jaw determinedly. ‘You sure you won’t dance with me?’

‘In this dress?’ Ruby glanced down at her enhanced cleavage. ‘Not a chance.’

Molly scowled. ‘You’re no fun.’

‘I know. I work really hard at it.’

Laughing, Molly blew out a nervous breath and headed into the fray. Ruby sometimes envied her little sister her ability to put herself ‘out there’ like that. Ruby could do it for her clients but when it came to pursuing something for herself...well, she wasn’t that brave, and knowing that was one of her greatest strengths.

Sipping her drink while she held Molly’s, she savoured the crisp lightness of the wine, almost forgetting about the man in the bronzed mask until she glanced up and found him prowling towards her, a sexy grin on his face.

Instantly her breath backed up in her lungs and her pulse took off like a rocket. As if he sensed her response, a heated gleam entered his eyes, darkening them from chocolate to mink. ‘When you ordered those drinks I didn’t realise you intended to drink them all by yourself,’ he said, his intimate tone and soft laugh inviting her to play along with his charming joke.

A shiver snaked down Ruby’s spine at the sound of that deep, velvety chuckle. Oh, this guy was smooth. Dangerously smooth. He was also most definitely Sam Ventura. What was the point in trying to deny it any longer?

‘Another lame pick-up line,’ she said with cool derision. ‘How very original of you.’

Instead of taking her comment as the put-down it was meant to be, Sam seemed highly amused by it. ‘I didn’t realise I’d delivered a first one.’ His eyes glowed from behind his mask as he grinned down at her. ‘Now, if I told you that you had the kind of smile that could stop a man at fifty paces...that would be a lame pick-up line.’ His smile widened. ‘It would also be true.’

Ruby blinked up at him, feeling a distinct height disadvantage without her usual four-inch heels on her feet, her gown not long enough to accommodate them. His tone implied that he thought she was a stranger, but how was that possible? She had recognised him straight away—would recognise him blindfolded in a dark room just by the prickling awareness he set off inside her.

She didn’t know whether to be insulted or glad that he hadn’t recognised her in turn. Maybe both. It only seemed to confirm that the mutual connection she had believed was special between them the night they met hadn’t been special or mutual at all.

Something inside her chest plummeted just a little more. Her pride, no doubt, because what woman’s pride wouldn’t be dented when a man who had kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her now had no clue as to who she was just because of a silly costume?

Dismayed to have her worst fears confirmed, Ruby deliberately disguised her voice with a smoky edge. Let him try and pick her up, she thought with rising irritation. Let him try and use all his sophisticated charm on her and have her turn him down this time. She’d like nothing better than to see him dig a hole for himself and then reveal her identity at the last minute. It was no less than he deserved for not calling her when he’d promised that he would. And, yes, she knew she needed to get over that but she really hated when a man said one thing and did another. She’d experienced the disappointment of being let down by her father too often as a young girl to put up with it in her adult life.

‘Great outfit by the way. I’m thinking you’re—’

‘Don’t say Little Bo Peep,’ she warned menacingly.

Sam laughed softly. ‘If you were Little Bo Peep you’d have a staff. And sheep. Which might not work with those ducks earlier.’

‘Swans.’

‘Ducks, swans...feathered fowl who belong in a pond, not at a masquerade party.’ His dark eyes glittered with lazy male appreciation as he gazed at her. ‘Not without a mask at least.’

Ruby’s lips twitched and she quickly sipped the last of her wine. She was not going to find him charming this time around. She was not going to feel breathless with awareness, or tingly with anticipation. She was not going to remember the gentle way he had tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before he’d said goodnight to her two years ago. Or the way he had looked at her as if she amazed him. It had made him impossible to forget. Impossible to get over. And thinking like that was just asking for trouble.

‘So no nursery-rhyme jokes and no lame pick-up lines,’ he agreed. ‘Want to dance instead?’

‘I don’t dance with strangers,’ she mumbled, glancing furtively towards the dance floor in the hope that Molly was ready to go home. Of course, Molly was nowhere to be seen.

‘Stranger?’ He cocked his head. ‘That’s easy enough to remedy—’

‘No!’ Her eyes widened on his. She wasn’t ready to reveal who she was to him. She didn’t want to have an awkward conversation about the past. It wasn’t as if they were friends. They weren’t, and they never would be. Better if he just left her alone and was none the wiser as to who he was trying to hit on. ‘No names.’

‘No names?’ He gave her a curious look.

‘Half the fun of wearing a mask is being anonymous. Don’t you agree?’

‘This is my first masked ball. I’m new to the etiquette.’

‘Then allow me to educate you.’ Her voice dropped further to a husky purr. ‘Names aren’t necessary.’

‘Is that right?’ The lights dimmed around them as the music turned soft and sensual. Ruby’s heart thumped against her ribcage. She really needed to get away from him and the way he made her feel.

‘So if you don’t want to dance and you don’t want to trade names—’ his gaze drifted to her lips like a feather-light caress ‘—what do you want to do?’

Kiss you, she thought, her body already responding to his lingering look. I want to kiss you and never stop.

‘One dance.’ He gave her a slow smile as if he knew the appalling direction in which her mind had just taken her. ‘I’m harmless, I promise.’

‘I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.’

The last thing Ruby wanted was to find herself in Sam’s arms again but he was so smooth he’d divested her of the two glasses she’d been clutching like a lifeline and had her there before she had time to blink.

Which only made her angry. What was it about this man that eroded her natural born caution? She didn’t want this and she certainly didn’t want him. Only, she knew she was lying to herself. There was something about Sam Ventura that got to her every single time and try as she might she couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

She risked a glance up into his eyes to find him watching her closely. Did she feel familiar in his arms? She was shorter without her heels on but...

Oh, get over yourself, Ruby Jane. He doesn’t know who you are so forget it. Have a laugh.

But she couldn’t have a laugh, not with his heat surrounding her and setting her pulse racing, not with his face so close to hers she could see the beginnings of his beard coming in, and not with his scent, spicy and masculine with a hint of sandalwood, short-circuiting her brain.

All she could do was remember the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, slightly rough, his lips warm and firm against her own. It was like being sent back in time. She wanted to feel those lips again. She wanted to feel the power of his need again, his hunger for her. She’d never felt like that in a man’s arms before and it was nothing short of addictive.

No man forgets a woman he’s kissed before. At least he doesn’t if he has any integrity.

Did he remember kissing her? Would it come back to him if she was to reach up and kiss him now?

Inwardly shocked to realise where her thoughts were leading her, Ruby jerked back. Kissing Sam Ventura was the last thing she should be thinking of doing. This man was dangerous to her equilibrium. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name.

‘You okay, angel?’ He drew her closer as she stumbled, bending to murmur in her ear. Ruby’s breath caught as his warm breath skittered across the sensitive skin of her neck. That name—he’d called her angel two years ago as well...

Shaking off the unwanted memory, she firmed her resolve against his effect on her.

‘No, I’m not okay,’ she said, making her first sane decision of the night and stepping out of his arms to push blindly through the throng of oblivious partygoers as she rushed from the room.

A stone terrace loomed in front of her, showcasing a captivating view of the harbour beyond, and Ruby headed for it, swiftly moving some distance down a narrow terraced walkway lined with fairy lights that wound around the side of the house.

‘Wait.’

Unaware that Sam had followed her, but not surprised, she stopped, the throb of the music just a low beat now they were outside.

‘What happened back there?’ His concerned gaze caught hers, his eyes scanning her face. He was so close to her she could feel the heat and energy from his body permeating her own.

Panic was what had happened back there. Jumbled senses and racing pulses was what had happened. Need and want...

‘Listen,’ he began, reaching for his mask. ‘I think it’s time we—’

‘No!’ Ruby startled him into silence when she grabbed for his arm and prevented him from unhooking his mask. She couldn’t think of anything worse than him unmasking himself now because he’d expect her to do the same. Which would put her in the position of explaining why she had acted the way she had. It would mean she would have to explain how she’d felt so overwhelmed by the heat of his body, his touch on her waist, his breath against her skin, that she’d run. Explain how in that moment she had wanted more of it. More of him.

‘Hey...’ he murmured softly, accurately reading her inner distress, his fingers gentle as he touched her chin. ‘Look at me.’

She did, the low light of the garden casting shadows across his strong jaw and carved lips, his dark hair falling forward over his mask.

He was so beautiful. So masculine. The bronze of the mask giving him an otherworldly appearance that only added to his appeal.

Ruby’s breathing altered, becoming choppy as they stared at each other. She tried to shake her head to clear her senses but his fingers prevented her from breaking eye contact with him. She irrationally felt light-headed, drunk on the clean, intoxicating scent of musk and man. Then his other hand sought the nape of her neck and she didn’t know if he leaned down further or she stretched upwards but suddenly his lips were on hers, warm and firm and utterly compelling.

Wide-eyed, she met his stunned gaze and then she couldn’t help herself: she lowered her eyelids and opened her mouth. She heard a deep groan rumble out of his chest as he felt her submit to the inevitable and he slanted his lips more fully across hers to deepen the kiss. It burned through her like liquid fire, drugging her, consuming her, triggering an avalanche of need deep inside she was powerless to resist.

A faint voice in her head warned her that this was a mistake, that if she played with fire she’d get burned. She heard it and accepted it, but stronger than that was this fierce, unbidden need for this moment to continue, for this pleasure never to end. She didn’t know if it was the intimacy of the night, the mask hiding her identity from him or the fact that she’d denied herself any form of sensual pleasure for so long, but she knew she was as lost to his touch as she had been two years ago. Maybe more so.

His lips moved over hers, sure and confident, her senses so attuned to the feel of him that she felt when he would have pulled back from her.

‘Don’t,’ she murmured softly, her arms around his neck. ‘Please, don’t stop.’

* * *

Sam groaned and complied with Ruby’s request even though logic and instinct told him to—for God’s sake, man—rein it in. It had been like this with her two years ago. Intensely intimate, sinfully erotic. Just the touch of her mouth against his was enough to have him losing his head. Now, holding her like this, feeling her unguarded response to him was sheer, unadulterated torture.

His arms banded around her, urging her closer, the soft, desperate whimpers coming from the back of her throat driving him to move them both further into the shadows cast by a small, cut-away corner of the building.

Her arms tightened around his neck and Sam ran his hands down over the boning of her gown. She arched against him, her breasts rising and falling above the low-cut neckline, threatening to spill out. Breasts he’d longed to see, longed to taste.

Telling himself that he’d stop this lunacy in one more moment, he slid his hand along the slender curve of her arm and shoulder and down to cup her rounded flesh in the palm of his hand.

Her breath caught inside her chest and she arched higher against him. Sam sensed the need in her, felt it in his own blood, and seared an urgent path of heated kisses down the long line of her neck. Her head fell back as a shiver went through her, her body leaning more heavily against his. He braced his arm across her lower back, his feverish eyes taking in the creamy skin of her décolletage, pearl-white in the ribbons of moonlight that breached the overhanging trees.

Heat and fire coursed a dangerous path inside him, burning up all rational thought as sensation overwhelmed him. A vessel blew its horn somewhere out on the harbour, someone laughed gaily as they jumped into the pool. Sam barely heard a thing, the sounds receding beneath the heaviness of his own thundering heartbeat.

Ruby’s lips were soft and yielding beneath his, feeding off his with the same violent hunger that turned him harder than stone. He shifted closer, bringing their bodies into perfect alignment, taking her soft moan deep into his mouth.

‘Damn, you taste good,’ he murmured, his lips moving to the sensitive skin beneath her ear. She writhed in his arms, her greedy hands growing more restless and bold as they ran over his shoulders and into his hair.

His mask was in the way and he was about to wrench it off when she pushed his jacket back and he had to shuck out of it. Then her sharp little nails raked his skin as she tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers. Hunger bit deep and he hauled her upwards, his mouth returning to hers with a primal need.

Sam had been with many women in his thirty-one years, pleasured more than he could remember, and he knew he was a good, giving lover, but this...touching Ruby, hearing her soft cries of pleasure as he discovered what pleased her, was a sensual delight he hadn’t reckoned on. He was completely at the mercy of his senses and he not only wanted to take everything she had to offer but he was also prepared to give her everything in return.

‘More,’ she begged, leaning into him and kneading his back muscles like a hungry kitten might a downy quilt. Sam swore under his breath and gave her what she wanted, urging her back against the vine-clad wall of the house and putting his hands all over her. Moulding her hips and her ribs, the soft swell of her round breasts. Breasts he had to see. Had to touch.

Somewhere in the back of his head an alarm bell was ringing but it was competing with the soft sounds of their mutual need, and really, what was one more minute of madness?

Lifting her so they were at eye level, Sam leaned forward and kissed the rounded swells of her breasts and then forced the top of her gown to give so that one pert nipple popped free.

‘I want to taste you.’ His voice sounded guttural with urgency and he didn’t wait for her response, lowering his head and taking the tight pink bud deep into his mouth. He flicked her aroused flesh with his tongue, relishing the soft keening sounds that told him she was as lost to this madness as he was.

‘Oh, God.’ She arched into his hold, her fingers threaded through his hair. ‘I need you,’ she said on a rushed breath, her fingers fumbling as they moved to his belt buckle.

Knowing he should stop, but unable to, Sam gathered the yards of fabric between them and skimmed his hands along her thighs. A tiny, flimsy scrap of silk was all that separated him from paradise and with one tug it gave, falling to the ground between them.

A low growl radiated up from his chest as his fingers found her soft and wet. He wanted to drop to his knees and taste the sweet honey coating his fingers but she was already rising against him.

‘More, please, I want more.’

He caught her mouth and propped her against the wall. Part of his brain tried to kick in, tried to remind him that he was a civilised man who did not have sex with women outside at important parties, but the hot throb of her body shredded his sanity and made a mockery of his self-control.

All he could think about was replacing his fingers with his throbbing shaft and making her his. Something she obviously wanted just as badly because she was tearing at the zip on his trousers and then he was free and she was open and ready, her thighs cradling his hips intimately against his body.

That first contact of his flesh against hers gave him pause because he didn’t have a condom on him. Cursing himself for his lack of preparation he was about to tell her when her lips cruised down the line of his neck and she bit the tendon between his neck and shoulder.

A shiver went through him, a groan dragged from deep inside as he forgot all about reason and responsibility and gave into a need that was stronger than he was, entering her on one hard, perfect thrust.

She was so tight. So snug... His body tensed as he fought to control his most basic urge to possess her.

‘Relax for me, angel, and this will go easier.’

Sweat beaded his forehead but before he could fully process that there was something untutored to her movements Ruby angled her body upwards and took him deeper, scattering his thoughts.

‘Slowly,’ he urged, holding her hips steady between his hands. ‘That’s it, let me all the way in.’ He groaned as her silken muscles rippled around him, holding him tight. Careful not to crush her, Sam placed a hand against the wall to support them both, his legs shaking as he strove to hold off his own release until he felt hers first.

‘Oh, God.’ She clutched at him, her little nails scoring the nape of his neck. ‘I...I...’ Her body squeezed his, small lake-like ripples pulling him in deeper and harder as her body sought, and found, the ultimate release.

As soon as he felt her peak Sam let go, moving inside her with controlled power as his own climax raced through him like never before.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, their bodies joined in the most fundamental way, their lungs heaving. Gradually he became aware of their surroundings: the way his shirt stuck to the damp skin on his back, a cicada making a racket in a nearby bush, the low throb of the music coming from far inside the house.

He lifted his head from where it was buried against Ruby’s sweetly curved neck, his legs so weak he had to fight to hold them both upright. He felt her shift against him and the enormity of what they had just done, of how out of control he had been, hit him hard.

He cursed softly and lowered her to the ground. He didn’t regret many things in his life but taking Ruby with all the finesse of an untried schoolboy just might turn out to be one of them. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her up and take her home so that he could do that all over again. In a bed this time. ‘Are you okay?’ he prompted softly, knowing that he felt as dazed as she looked.

‘Water.’ She blinked up at him, her mask slightly askew from his fingers. He wanted to rip it off, yank off the wig and let all her long, golden hair tumble free. ‘I’m so thirsty,’ she croaked. ‘Do you mind?’

Sam raked his hair back from his forehead. No, of course he didn’t mind getting her a glass of water, but first he wanted to apologise, tell her he hadn’t meant for things to go that far. At least not outdoors, at a party of all places! He cursed inwardly again. ‘Sure, water.’ The apology could wait. ‘Just...stay put until I get back.’ Hesitating, he glanced down at her, his brows pulling together as he took in her trembling mouth. ‘You’re sure you’re okay?’

She nodded, fussing with her voluminous skirts so that she wouldn’t have to look at him.

Leaving his jacket on the ground Sam strode back the way they had come, blinking as he rounded a corner and his eyes met the brighter lights of the terrace, small clusters of partygoers thankfully ignoring him as he stalked inside.

Quickly fetching a glass of water, he rehearsed a short speech in his head on his way back, trying to come up with some plausible explanation for what had just happened between them, only to find the place he had left her empty.

Worried, he spun around, searching out the shadowy garden for any sign of lavender silk. It took him a full minute to realise that she wasn’t there. Then another to realise that she’d done a runner. Worry gave way to guilt that he’d taken things so far with her, and finally to fury that she wasn’t still waiting where he’d left her.

Did she do this kind of thing all the time? Pick up a man, have unforgettable sex with him and then ditch him when his back was turned? Was that why she had insisted that they keep things anonymous?

Jaw clenched, Sam yanked off his mask and tossed it to the ground. He couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that she had used him in such a way, but if she thought he wouldn’t pursue it she couldn’t be more wrong.