Читать книгу It Started With A Proposition - Miranda Lee - Страница 17

JORDAN was standing at the window behind her desk, staring blankly down at the city, when her office door opened.

‘I thought I’d find you here,’ Kerry said.

Jordan turned and smiled a small smile at her friend. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Because you’re in some kind of antisocial mood. You couldn’t wait to get out of that dinner, could you?’

‘I didn’t have much of an appetite tonight,’ Jordan said.

‘The food was good, though, wasn’t it?’

‘Very good.’ Jordan glanced at her watch. She would have to be leaving soon. Gino had warned her not to be late, and he’d already been gone ten minutes.

‘How did you get on with Mr Bortelli?’

‘What?’ Jordan looked up. ‘Oh, not too bad. He liked the food.’

‘He didn’t make a pass at you, did he?’

Jordan stiffened. ‘Why on earth would you say that?’

‘Just a feeling. You seem…agitated.’

For a split second Jordan was tempted to tell Kerry everything. But she just couldn’t.

‘I’m still strung up after last week. The Johnson case was rather draining. I…I might take a break from work shortly.’

‘You know, I think that would be a good idea. Why don’t you surprise Chad by flying over to the States?’

Jordan shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want to do that.’

‘You’re not having second thoughts about marrying him, are you?’

Jordan swallowed. ‘Actually, I am.’

‘Oh, Jordan,’ Kerry said, her face falling.

‘Yes, I know. I’m a fool. Probably a bigger fool than you realise.’ Suddenly tears filled Jordan’s eyes. She had to get out of here, and fast. Blinking madly, she wrenched open her desk drawer and retrieved her purse from where she’d left it earlier.

When she lifted her eyes back to Kerry’s she had herself under control again. ‘I need to go home and get a good night’s sleep. See you on Monday.’

‘Look after yourself,’ Kerry called after her as she hurried from the office.

No one was in the lift on the ride down, giving Jordan the perfect opportunity to slip off her engagement ring and pop it into the zippered section of her purse.

No way could she wear Chad’s ring whilst she was with Gino. He wouldn’t allow it, anyway.

The security man in the foyer asked Jordan if she wanted him to call her a taxi. The Regency was a relatively short walk away—only a couple of blocks. But on a Saturday night any walk in the city could be dangerous—especially for a woman on her own.

Jordan would normally have taken a taxi, but not this time.

She welcomed the cool night air outside, welcomed the risk.

If someone mugged her or accosted her, then it was only what she deserved.

Of course no one did either, and she was pushing her way through the revolving glass doors of the hotel’s entrance in less than ten minutes. By then her heart was pounding behind her ribs and her face felt flushed. Another glance at her watch showed that it was only just after ten-thirty.

Her stiletto heels clacked on the marble floor of the arcade as she hurried along it—past the bouncer who stood at the doorway to the Rendezvous bar, past the bistro and the boutiques. The arcade led into the hotel foyer proper, and the reception desk was on her left.

Jordan hated that she’d have to deal with a male desk clerk. She’d been hoping for a woman.

‘Ahh, yes…Ms Gray,’ he said, with a knowing little smirk on his fleshy lips as he handed her the key card. ‘Mr Bortelli said you were to go right up. The French Bordello suite is on the twelfth floor.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied coolly, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

The ride up to the twelfth floor felt surreal, with her conflicting emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Her brain kept telling her not to do this. She could still turn round and go home. But her body refused to obey.

Before she knew it she was standing in front of the door which had French Bordello Suite marked on it in gold letters.

Should she knock, or let herself in?

Her right hand balled into a fist as she lifted it to knock.

A few short but agonising seconds passed before the door was wrenched open.

Gino stood there, his black eyes glowering impatience at her. He’d taken off his jacket, she noted, and the bow-tie. He’d also opened the top button of his white dress-shirt.

‘You took your time,’ he grumbled.

‘I walked.’

‘You what?’ he snapped, then grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, kicking the door shut with his foot. ‘What kind of risk-taker are you, woman?’

Jordan could have told him, in no uncertain terms, but decided not to say a word. Instead, she yanked her hand out of his, and was about to head further into the room when she ground to a halt.

‘Good heavens!’ she exclaimed.

Jordan just stood there, shaking her head at the over-the-top décor. Had the designer copied rooms in a real French Bordello? she wondered. Or simply come up with what a French Bordello might be like in his or her imagination?

The colours were too rich for Jordan’s taste, the furniture way too ornate. At the same time there was no denying that whoever had designed this place had created a decadent, sensual atmosphere: dark red-coloured carpet on the floor, wood-panelled walls, two gold brocade-covered sofas, with elaborately carved legs. Marble-topped tables, gold velvet drapes at the window, subdued lighting from heavily fringed lamps whose bases were brass figurines of naked women.

The bedroom was separated from the sitting area by double doors, currently open, giving Jordan a glimpse of the bottom half of the four-poster bed Gino had mentioned. In there the colours were reversed—the carpet gold and the walls covered in a deep red wallpaper, the velvet drapes around the bed the same dark red colour.

‘Does that mean you like it or not?’ Gino said drily by her side.

‘It’s not exactly my cup of tea,’ she replied.

‘Wait till you see the bathroom.’

A stab of nervous tension suddenly set her bladder on edge. ‘I think I need to go see it right now.’

‘Be my guest,’ Gino invited.

‘Alone,’ she added sharply.

No television, she noted as she hurried through the sitting room, nor a mini-bar. Though there was an antique cabinet in one corner which could have hidden anything. A bottle of French champagne—already opened—sat in a silver ice bucket on the marble-topped coffee table, along with some tasty little treats: strawberries…caviar…And—if she wasn’t mistaken—chocolate truffles.

Was that Gino’s doing? Or the hotel’s?

The bedroom was as sumptuous as it looked from a distance. The bedspread was made of red and gold quilted satin, the pillows of gold satin, as were the sheets. The brass bases of the bedside lamps were more naked ladies in various poses. An elegant glass bottle stood next to one lamp, filled with what looked like a body lotion of some kind.

The bathroom lived up to Gino’s warning: black marble dominated the room, covering the floors, walls and ceiling. The twin sink units were made of the same marble, the bowls as well. The toilet, bidet and corner spa bath were in a rich cream colour, the taps and other fittings gold-plated. The towels were scarlet, as were the floor mats. Several small alcoves had been carved high up in the marble walls. Tonight they held gold candles which were lit, looking like glow-worms in a dark cave—a dark, sexually charged cave.

Jordan could only imagine what Gino had in mind for that room later on. She shuddered anew as she washed her hands at the sink, grateful that the dim light wouldn’t let her see the excitement in her eyes reflected in the mirror.

She combed her slightly breeze-blown hair, but didn’t bother to refresh her lipstick. What was the point? It wouldn’t be there for long.

Gathering herself, she exited the bathroom and returned to the sitting area, where Gino was standing at the window with his back to her. He turned at the sound of her entry. He was holding a near full glass of champagne, and he was frowning.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he began.

‘Yes?’

‘I was wrong to blackmail you into this. It’s not what I intended to do when I went to that dinner tonight. It’s not what I want.’

Jordan had never been so astounded in all her life.

‘What is it that you want, then?’

‘I still want you, Jordan. That hasn’t changed. But I want you to come to me willingly. I don’t want to force you, or even to seduce you. I want what we once had together. You—eager to surrender yourself to me. I don’t want you to hate me in the morning. And I don’t want to hate myself.’

Jordan just stared at Gino, his amazing and highly unexpected turnaround bringing a fierce frustration which found its voice in anger.

‘I don’t think you know what you want, Gino,’ she said sharply. ‘Look, if it makes you feel any better, then I have come here willingly. It’s not because you blackmailed me. You have some kind of hold over me. I admit it. You turn up out of the blue, crook your finger, and silly Jordan comes running. But don’t delude yourself into thinking we can recapture what we once had. For one thing, I don’t love you any more. How could I possibly love a man who has me investigated behind my back? But, yes, I still lust after you. You were right in what you said at that table tonight. You know what I like. You know all my dark little secrets.

‘So here I am,’ she added, reaching up behind her back and pulling the zipper down. ‘Doing what I vowed I’d never do. But not because of your threat to tell Chad. I’m hoping that once I’ve had my fill of you tonight I’ll be able to walk away in the morning and make a decent life for myself with a man who cares about me and wants to marry me.’

Gino watched, appalled but cripplingly aroused, as she peeled her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing there in her underwear.

Not prim and proper underwear, but sexy underwear. A black satin teddy, with suspenders attached to shiny flesh-coloured stockings.

Her glittering blue eyes held his boldly whilst she kicked off her shoes and then unflicked each suspender. With a haughty toss of her lovely blonde hair she moved over to the coffee table and put one foot up, rolling the stocking down to her toes before snapping it off.

Gino’s gut crunched down hard at the thought that she might have performed like this for Stedley. Though if she had, then what was she doing here?

No, it’s only with me that she’s like this. She’s virtually said as much.

The other stocking followed, then the pearls, which she tossed aside as carelessly as the nylons. When she hooked her fingers under the thin satin straps of the teddy Gino’s stopped breathing altogether. His blood, however, was still roaring round his veins, engorging his flesh to titanic proportions.

She actually smiled as she peeled the garment down her body. A slow siren’s smile.

‘Don’t look so gobsmacked,’ she said, when she finally stood there in the nude. ‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it?’

Gino’s hand gripped the stem of his glass with such force that it was a miracle it didn’t snap.

‘No,’ he ground out. ‘Not quite. Put the shoes back on.’

Now it was her turn to look gobsmacked.

‘That’s the way I pictured you when I was eating dinner tonight. That’s what I want. For starters,’ he added, all qualms gone over how he was going to treat her tonight. He’d tried to do the right thing, but she wanted none of it. This was what she wanted. To have her fill of him. And he was more than happy to oblige!

Jordan swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She should never have started stripping in front of him, never have taken him on.

It had only been a matter of time before her recklessness backfired on her.

Gino no longer looked shocked. His expression was cold and implacable.

‘Do it!’ he ordered.

Jordan’s feet found her shoes. The height of the heels changed the way she stood. The sharp angle of her feet made her straighten her shoulders and suck in her stomach, those actions thrusting her breasts forward and upwards.

Gino’s black eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down, his heavily hooded gaze as hard as it was exciting.

Had he known she would feel different standing there in the nude with her high heels on? More exposed? More…aroused?

Yes, of course he knew. He knew she was standing there, trembling inside with anticipation of what would come next. Knew that she thrilled to his commands and his demands.

‘That’s better,’ he said, a dark triumph in his eyes. ‘Now come over here…’