Читать книгу Socialite's Gamble - Michelle Conder, Michelle Conder - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

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AIDAN LEANED BACK in the velvet-lined chair at the main gaming table and hooked his arm over the back.

The suspense must be killing her, he thought, shocked to find that he was enjoying himself. He’d almost whistled a merry tune when she’d nearly fainted dead away in front of him after he’d mentioned the police.

He had no intention of calling them, of course, but feeling her worried eyes on him all evening would be punishment enough.

Or would have been if those tingling little glances didn’t have the unexpected result of making him totally aware of her, as well.

It was unconscionable, really, to have his attention so divided when he needed to focus the most.

But okay, so far, the game was going according to plan. Ellery was anxious enough to make some rash plays, but not enough to make him quit. Aidan knew the old bastard loved nothing more than to look good in front of his compatriots and would want to finish the game on a high.

Aidan’s clear-eyed gaze fell on him now, the older man’s attention once again firmly wedged somewhere in the vicinity of Cara Chatsfield’s cleavage.

He told himself he was glad Ellery had been as distracted by her as many of the other men at the table because it made his job that much easier.

Still, he felt his jaw knot as he watched her smile and work the table, her long-limbed sensuality and graceful movements promising hours of untold delights.

She was very practiced for one so young. And very comfortable having older men paw her. Or was she? Now and then Aidan was sure he’d caught a hint of uncertainty in her expression. A hint that she wasn’t enjoying herself half as much as she pretended.

Yeah, he mocked himself, she’s a real woman of substance.

She played them. Some knew it and played along, hoping to get her into the sack anyway, but some didn’t and they were all but salivating. Aidan wondered if she was just biding her time. Waiting to see which one of them ended up on top before making her move. It would match his experience of women.

So why then, he asked himself not for the first time, did he find her so damned attractive?

An oil-rich sheikh broke into his unwanted musings by calling a time-out to use the bathroom. The croupier gave them fifteen minutes and all the men got up to stretch. Aidan didn’t. He could sit here all night if it meant destroying Martin Ellery. And he was more than halfway there.

His prowess, he knew, had surprised Ellery because Aidan wasn’t by nature a gambler. He’d always been too conservative. Like his father. But he knew poker was Ellery’s weakness and so Aidan had painstakingly learned the game. Learned to be good at it. His natural tendency to hide his emotions helped. Another trait he shared with his father.

His now-dead father, thanks to Martin Ellery’s criminal machinations fourteen years ago that had broken his father’s spirit. And now Aidan would break his. He would snap it in half. He would systematically destroy his pride, his reputation, his confidence … Hell, he wanted Ellery to lose his very reason for living. No man deserved it more.

And Ellery knew he was on the ropes; his dwindling stack of chips signified his run of rash calls and bad bluffs was coming to an end. A smarter man would have got up and walked away by now. Ellery’s ego would keep him at the table. Aidan knew it and he counted on it.

Stretching his legs out in front of him he signalled for another glass of iced tea. He hated the stuff, but to the other players it looked like whisky and it put them at ease. Made him look like a serious player.

Absently he noticed that Ellery had crossed the room and was holding Cara Chatsfield’s arm and once again, his gut tightened. The man had been pawing her all night and by the sound of Cara’s husky laugh she didn’t mind.

So hell, why should he?

It wasn’t like she was some naive little nobody. This was a woman who would go to the opening of an envelope. And for sure he had been wrong about the hint of vulnerability he’d noticed earlier. Maybe he’d been seeing something he wanted to see in her.

And why, he asked himself, would he want this woman to be anything other than what she was?

A vacuous bimbo. He let his eyes wander up her creamy throat to her full mouth and slanted emerald-green eyes ringed with black kohl. They had to be as fake as her hair. Though as to the latter he would admit that the pink gamin hairdo made her look like an erotic pixie. A very tall erotic pixie.

Just then she leaned closer to Ellery to hear whatever dribble was coming out of the swine’s mouth and he hated the dazzling smile on her face as she led him from the room. It was open and engaging and transformed her from beautiful to the kind of woman men went to war over.

And where the hell were they going now? Ellery’s suite? The break was only fifteen minutes. Surely Ellery would want to savour her if he got that chance.

Annoyed with the direction of his thoughts, Aidan settled more deeply into his chair and absently watched the glittering crowd. There were only two ways to make it into this room. Money or promise. The men usually had the former, the women the latter. It was the lay of the land. But not usually his land. Aidan usually worked, worked out and slept. In that order. Occasionally he dated and even more occasionally he joined members of his executive team for a drink. But since the death of his father last year, he’d been driven by a deep, yearning restlessness. A restlessness that he would finally put to bed after he crushed Martin Ellery and took everything that he held dear—his company and his self-worth.

Frowning as his gaze lingered on the private doorway Ellery and Cara had disappeared through, he tried to tell himself that the Chatsfield socialite was not his problem. That it was not his job to protect her if she was too stupid to see the man for what he was.

Aidan had made it a point years ago never to become emotionally involved in any issue, and really, Cara Chatsfield did not seem like the kind of woman who needed protecting from anyone but herself.

So did he care about whether or not the old man had his hands inside her dress? If he had his mouth on hers? If he was kissing his way down her creamy throat—

Hell.

‘Where does that door lead?’ he snarled.

The startled waitress he’d just accosted stared up at him. ‘The High Stakes bar and balcony that overlooks the Strip. But both are closed tonight, sir.’

Aidan grunted and set off. If anyone was going to touch that creamy throat it would be him and it wouldn’t be with his damned mouth.

Cara dodged Martin Ellery’s wandering hands yet again and sighed. She’d believed him when he’d said he wanted to see the spectacular view from the highly exclusive, but private, Chatsfield bar—the High Stakes—but even she wasn’t usually so gullible. Tonight the bar was closed as all eyes were supposed to be on the casino tables. The quietness of the dark-shadowed open-air bar was somehow more deafening than inside the casino.

Earlier she had felt sorry for Ellery when he’d told her how his first wife had lost their baby in a late miscarriage and how that girl would now be about Cara’s age. She wasn’t sure of the truth of his story anymore, but it didn’t matter because it was clear that all those light touches to her arm and the back of her hand had not had a fatherly intention behind them at all. Somehow, if she hadn’t been so worried about Aidan Kelly, she might have picked that up earlier and not found herself alone with him as she was now.

The volcano at the Mirage erupted behind her to the muted oohs and ahhs of the tourists far below, and Cara thought she might erupt, too, if this night didn’t end soon.

‘I hope you like the view and will come back another time to enjoy the bar when it is open,’ she demurred politely, straightening away from the edge of the balcony. ‘But now I really have to return to my duties.’

Before the fake smile on her lips had dimmed Ellery grabbed her forearm. ‘You know I didn’t come out here to look at the view, Cara.’ He stepped closer to her and somehow seemed bigger than before. ‘Come to my room later on. I know you want to.’

He knew she wanted to?

Cara hoped her disgusted outrage wasn’t blaringly obvious as she stared in stupefied silence at him. He might still be considered an attractive man to some women but what on earth had she done to give him the impression that he was attractive to her and, more importantly, how was she going to extricate herself from this situation without upsetting him so much he caused a scene that would get back to Christos?

Feeling as if her mind was a filing cabinet she was riffling through for just the right way to put him off she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his fleshy fingers dig into her hipbones, his body trapping hers against the cold metal railing.

‘Mr Ellery!’ She put her hands up between them. ‘I’m seeing someone.’

His eyes narrowed but he didn’t move back. ‘Who?’

Who? Who? God, did the man not know how to say die?

She glanced desperately towards the main casino doors, hoping like hell someone would come through them and rescue her when he cursed violently, the glow of the fake volcano’s erupting flames throwing horrible reddish streaks across his overly tanned features.

‘Don’t tell me it’s Kelly.’

It took Cara a moment to realise he wasn’t referring to another woman but Aidan Kelly. She paused, her mind spinning. It was clear by the men’s interaction—or lack of—at the table that they didn’t like each other. At times she’d been sure she’d noticed flashes of almost fear cross Martin Ellery’s face when Aidan had won another round. Would it hurt to let him think that she was secretly dating Aidan Kelly? It might mean that he left her alone for the rest of the night. ‘A lady never tells,’ she murmured, knowing that he would take that as confirmation of his assumption.

‘Kelly’s a woman hater. Mark my words. He’ll break your tender heart, darlin’, and bury it along with every other woman’s in Australia.’

Considering she had no intention of giving Aidan Kelly the time of day after this horrible evening was over she wasn’t at all concerned about her heart—tender or otherwise.

Unbidden, a picture of Aidan Kelly’s handsome face came into her mind. When she’d first locked eyes with him at the airport she’d felt as if her heart had stopped beating. As if the ground had moved beneath her feet. Which of course it had because her shoe had been broken, but to her tragically romantic way of thinking he had looked like Prince Charming himself.

He wasn’t. She’d known that as soon as he’d growled at her, but it hadn’t stopped her from wanting to go out with him. To do more than that, she reluctantly admitted. She had looked at him with the same stars in her eyes that the stewardess had but he had only thought the worst of her and had ignored her ever since. Well, not exactly ignored her. She’d caught him watching her from time to time during the game and it had made her immediately aware of her body in a way that was uncomfortably hot.

And speaking of uncomfortable it was time to stop Martin Ellery’s fingers from digging into her waist as if he had a right to have them there. Pressing down on his arms she forced her lips into a smile. ‘Look, Mr Ellery—’

‘Hope I’m not interrupting anything.’

At the sound of Aidan Kelly’s lazy drawl, Martin Ellery released her and shoved her to the side. Cara sighed with relief.

‘Well, look who’s come to call,’ Ellery sneered. ‘Lover boy himself.’

Cara made a small strangled noise in the back of her throat she hoped neither man heard. The last thing she needed was for Aidan Kelly to find out what she had let Martin Ellery believe.

And what was it about this man that brought out the worst in her? Or was there a blue moon tonight? Was she going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight?

‘You’re the one with the moves, old man.’

Cara shivered. The cooler winds brought on by the earlier monsoon had nothing on Aidan Kelly.

‘What do you want, Kelly?’ Ellery demanded.

‘Fresh air,’ Aidan said, casually strolling closer. ‘Seems I might be in the wrong place.’

‘That’s because the bar’s closed,’ the older man sneered.

‘Doesn’t look that way to me.’

Ellery’s eyes narrowed. ‘I have to say it was a surprise to see you here tonight.’

Aidan propped himself against the polished balustrading, his lazy gaze taking in the sparkling spectacle of the Strip below. ‘Was it?’

The air fairly vibrated with tension but Aidan Kelly, Cara noted, was better at hiding it than his opponent.

Ellery widened his stance. ‘You’ve bitten off more than you can chew taking me on, son.’

With just the barest turn of his head, Aidan’s eyes had the arrogant Martin Ellery pinned to the spot like a wrestler on a gym mat. ‘Don’t ever call me “son” again,’ he warned quietly.

‘Oh, stop with the intimidation tactics,’ Ellery blustered. ‘Better men than you have tried to best me before and they’ve all failed.’

Aidan smiled, more a baring of his teeth. ‘I think you’re being a bit paranoid, old man. I came here to play poker. Like you.’

Ellery scoffed. ‘Well, enjoy your winning streak. It won’t last.’

‘They never do,’ Aidan drawled as if he felt sorry for the fact.

Cara swallowed. He was a formidable adversary and instinctively she knew that to go up against him would be dangerous. Not that she was intending to if she could avoid it. She hated conflict, much preferring to pull a pillow over her head and hide than have an out-and-out stoush with someone.

Cowardly of her, perhaps, but between the desire to find out how his beautiful mouth would feel on hers and the urge to run for her life, Cara would choose the latter any time. Because, she suspected, if she ever did kiss Aidan Kelly, she’d come out of the experience changed for ever.

Oh, but now that her mind had wandered down that particular track it was hard to pull it back. She wondered what he would do if she asked him to just stand still while she kissed him and then forget it had ever happened.

And where exactly did you leave your brain tonight, you idiot girl? she berated herself. Because it’s certainly not inside your sorry head.

As if reading her thoughts, Aidan cut his gaze to hers and then let it drop to her lips. They tingled and she felt the strongest urge to part them.

Suddenly she felt very much like the meat in an overcooked sandwich as she stood between the two men.

‘Maybe it would be best if we all returned indoors,’ she said, knowing it was her job to dispel the sudden hostility that emanated between them.

Unfortunately neither one of them paid her any attention.

‘You’re out of your depth, boy. Just like your father.’

Cara felt the bite in the air and sucked in a quick breath. She had no idea what the trouble was between the two men but Martin Ellery had just raised the bar if the sudden tension in the man behind her was anything to go by.

Slowly turning around Cara half expected Aidan to have a knife at the ready but instead he smiled benignly at the man who had clearly tried to insult him. Watching him she wondered if she’d imagined the tension she had, moments ago, felt pulsing out of him. Perhaps it had just been her own.

‘Gentlemen—’

‘You want to be careful, Kelly.’ Ellery surprised her by putting his hand back on her waist. ‘You might lose more than you bargained for.’

Oh, no. Cara stiffened in mortification at the thought of what Ellery was about to reveal.

‘Stop worrying so much, Martin,’ Aidan said amiably. ‘You’re starting to sound paranoid.’

Ellery’s hand shook slightly before it tightened on her and Cara did a quick sidestep. If they wanted to butt heads with each other, they didn’t need her around to watch.

Before she could make her escape, though, Ellery blocked her way. ‘See you at the table, Kelly.’

‘I look forward to it,’ Aidan drawled.

Ellery glared at him on his way past and completely ignored Cara, leaving her standing on the balcony in a pool of coloured lights with a man who threw off enough testosterone to power the Strip for a year at least.

‘So, that was interesting?’ she murmured in an attempt to fill the awkward silence.

‘Only if you like dirty old men.’

Okay …

‘I don’t know what the problem is between you, but … maybe you should go easy on Mr Ellery,’ Cara felt compelled to say softly. ‘I think he’s really scared of you.’

Aidan Kelly didn’t move a muscle. ‘He should be.’

And so should I, she thought a little desperately.

Do you like dirty old men, Miss Chatsfield?’ he asked mockingly.

Try as she might Cara couldn’t stop her eyes from taking him in. With his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his formidable shoulders he was possibly the most virile man she had ever seen outside of an action movie. ‘Well, that depends on your definition of old.’ She smiled to try and lighten the atmosphere. ‘But as a general rule I would say not.’

‘Then stay away from Ellery. He’s poison.’

She paused. The late-night breeze teased the hair at her temples and in the distance the rattle of New York–New York’s roller-coaster and requisite screams from the passengers could be heard. She felt flushed even though the night was still cool and her hands had definitely turned clammy.

‘Thanks for the warning,’ she said as brightly as she could. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I’d better get back.’

Except for some reason she didn’t move.

‘What did Ellery want?’ Aidan asked suddenly.

Cara shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ His blue eyes penetrated deep inside her. ‘Are you with him?’

‘Am I …’ Cara felt her brows draw together. ‘As in, am I seeing him?’

He waited and she knew that was exactly what he meant.

‘No.’

‘Do you want to?’

‘Absolutely not!’ Just the thought of it made her feel ill.

The intense man in front of her shifted his weight and seemed to tower over her even though he hadn’t really moved. ‘Then you shouldn’t smile at him as you have been all night.’

Cara frowned. ‘I’ve been doing my job.’

‘You’ve been giving him come-on signals with that smile of yours that promises unparalleled pleasure.’

Cara was shocked by his words. If asked, she would have said her smile had no effect on him whatsoever. But now, with his thick lashes shielding his thoughts from her, she felt an unexpected jolt of sexual awareness deep in her body.

She couldn’t stop her eyes from falling to his enticing mouth, the strong column of his neck. It was impossible not to imagine how his mouth would feel pressed against hers because she’d been doing it all night. She imagined he would taste heavenly. Like his scent.

He stepped closer to her, and without meaning to, Cara backed against the wall.

This man didn’t have to smile to promise a night of unparalleled pleasure, she thought, he just had to look at a woman. His confidence and subtle air of power were all the aphrodisiac she would need to have her silently beg for him to take her in his arms, to lower his head and kiss her. To have her feel a yearning ache deep in her pelvis she’d never experienced before.

‘My smile doesn’t—’ She stopped when she realised that his eyes were fixed on her mouth. They lingered there before rising to hers, heat radiating from their glittering depths.

‘Yeah, it does,’ he said gruffly. ‘And it might get you what you want with a poor, unsuspecting chauffeur, but a man like Ellery will take it as a green light whether you want him to or not.’

All Cara heard in that statement was the word chauffeur. ‘You know,’ she whispered, completely mortified, ‘don’t you?’

Aidan stepped into her personal space and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. ‘What I know is that you’ve been driving me crazy all night. Tell me, Miss Chatsfield.’ His voice had grown rough and Cara’s eyes collided with his. ‘Do you deliver on that sex-kitten reputation of yours or are you an absolute let-down when the glamour is stripped away?’

Jolted once again, but this time by the harsh note that had entered his tone, Cara thought that her father would say the latter. Definitely the latter.

Before she could think about how to respond he had stepped closer still. Close enough that she could feel his heat, see the faint trace of stubble forming on his strong jaw. The air grew thick as he studied her, hot prickles of awareness chasing themselves over her cheekbones and down to her lips as if his intense gaze was an actual caress. The inside of her mouth felt like it had never had any moisture in it, and she couldn’t move.

His head lowered and every cell in her body sharpened to a single point as she waited for his kiss. Waited for his mouth to touch hers. It was the worst feeling in the world and also the best—that heightened anticipation, that feeling of being poised on the edge of a roller-coaster. You know your stomach is going to flip and you might even feel sick but the thrill of it would be worth it. Worth—

His mouth touched hers. A whisper of contact. Fleeting. Gentle.

For a second they both stared at each other, wide-eyed, their lips barely an inch apart, their warm breaths mingling, and then he moved, wrapping one hand around her waist and anchoring the other in her hair, his mouth slanting over hers with hungry skill.

Cara felt dizzy as the ground beneath her feet tilted and she had to close her eyes and grab on to him for support. Before she knew it his tongue licked along her closed lips and she didn’t even think of holding back as she opened to him.

He made a rough sound against her mouth that sent tingles down her spine, and gathered her closer, pressing her breasts into his torso, moulding her lower body to his. He was aroused—and huge—and Cara let out a low moan as his mouth took everything she had to offer.

His lips were warm and firm and then his tongue was in her mouth and—oh, God—sensations zigzagged through her, causing heat to pool at her core. With a small sound she kissed him back and twined her tongue with his, her fingers squeezing his wide shoulders and curving around his neck and into his thick hair. In that moment she could have been anywhere—Paris, Rome … Mars—and she wouldn’t have been aware of anything but his kiss.

Unfortunately a loud bang somewhere below startled them both and before she could blink she was free, her breaths coming in short, sharp pants. She pressed her hand to her chest, not unlike the stewardess earlier, and stared at him completely dumbstruck.

His eyes bored into hers, his breathing just as uneven as her own. She stared at the buttons on his shirt, his impressive chest that moved up and down like bellows as he attempted to contain his breathing.

‘Meet me later. After the game.’

It wasn’t a request, but a command. Rough. Forceful. Exciting beyond measure.

Cara couldn’t look away from the burning hunger in his gaze, her blood as thick as treacle as it flowed through her veins. All she wanted to do was lean into him, assuage the hollow ache deep in her body. She’d never had such a visceral reaction to a man before and her mind recoiled from it as much as it craved it.

Her lips buzzed and even though her mind kept telling her that it was wrong, that she should show caution, that she would only get hurt, she took a deep breath and said the only thing that she could.

‘Yes.’

Socialite's Gamble

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