Читать книгу Hard Deal - Stefanie London - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

“JUST FREAKING GREAT.” Imogen planted a hand on the ground and tried to stand. She could already tell there’d be a grapefruit-size bruise on her butt.

But bruises were the least of her problems. Her dress was stuck on a bush and her shaking hands couldn’t free it.

Everything had been going along smoothly, too. She’d found a window to peer through that was clear enough for her phone camera to get a decent shot of what was going on inside the stables. It was a trade-off—she couldn’t hear what either person was saying, but she had more places to hide than if she’d approached the entrance.

When Daniel had put his arm around the woman and she’d kissed him, Imogen had taken a perfect shot. But in trying to get the best angle, her sandal had slipped on a loose rock and she’d gone down like a sack of potatoes.

“Graceful as a baby freaking elephant,” she muttered.

All she had to do was get her dress free, then she could slip back into the ball with her phone in hand. Hopefully Daniel and the mystery woman hadn’t heard her. She strained to listen, but the only thing her ears picked up were the distant notes of the string quartet.

She located the offending pieces of shrubbery holding her captive and carefully extracted the lace. There was a hole but it was tiny. The dress was a loaner, and Imogen couldn’t afford to drain her bank account because of a stupid bush. Breathing a sigh of relief, Imogen got to her feet and tried to see where her phone had landed.

“Fudge nuggets,” she muttered, glancing up at the window. Thankfully there wasn’t a face peering down at her, but she needed to find her phone. Now.

Hoisting her dress up, so it wouldn’t catch on the bush again, she searched the ground. The phone had bounced close to where she landed, so the blasted thing couldn’t have gone too far. Maybe it was on the grass behind her. The second Imogen turned her stomach plummeted.

Daniel stood in front of her, lips pressed into a hard line as he held her phone in one hand. Even though his face was mostly covered, he still managed to effectively radiate a “peeved as hell” vibe.

“I can explain,” she said, her mind kicking into overdrive. Which wasn’t a good thing—she tended to word-vomit when she got nervous.

“Go on,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and keeping her phone out of reach.

Out of the corner of her eye Imogen saw the mystery woman approaching, but Daniel waved her away. Once they were alone, Imogen sucked in a deep breath and pressed her hands to her stomach to quell the butterflies flapping up a storm.

“I don’t know how to say this, but I was following you.” Her mouth was drier than desert dust, but she forged on. “I know it was wrong, but I thought you’d lie if I confronted you. You have to understand, I’m looking out for Penny. I can’t have her marrying someone who’s cheating on her.”

Her words were met with a wall of silence, which only served to irritate her further. She balled her hands into fists as fury filtered through her veins. How could he stand there and not say a freaking thing? He wasn’t even defending himself.

“Seriously, did you think you could cheat and no one would ever find out? She loves you and you’re treating her like...like...” She shook her head. “Shite.”

“Shite?” The amusement in his voice made her see red.

“Yes, shite. And I’m not going to allow it.” She stuck her hand out. “Give me back my phone. Now.”

Silence.

She could rush him and hope that their size differential would be negated by the element of surprise. That might get her kicked out of the ball. Not that it mattered, now she had the evidence. But she needed to get her phone back...by any means necessary.

“If you don’t say something, this is going to end badly for you.” Her voice had taken on a shaky quality now. Adrenaline pumped through her body, preparing her fight response. Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to pick flight now. “Hand over the phone.”

“Who do you think I am?” he asked.

“Oh come on, Daniel,” she scoffed. “You’re really going to play that card? I heard you talking about Penny before. Ball and chain, huh? That’s real charming.”

* * *

Caleb wasn’t sure what kind of twilight zone fantasy land he’d ended up in, but this was a hell of a lot more interesting than what was going on inside the ballroom. After hearing the thud outside the stables, he’d gone to investigate only to find a woman in the sexiest black dress he’d ever seen on hands and knees, trying to disentangle herself from a bush. It wasn’t until he’d spotted the shiny silver case of a phone that he figured out what she’d been up to.

The mystery woman was an amateur paparazzo. He’d fully intended on handing the phone over. After all, it was clearly a case of mistaken identity. There wasn’t a person in the world who would care that he was having a “secret” meeting with Karolina Petrov-Wells. And the fact that she’d now called him “Daniel” was proof of that.

But the mistaken identity wasn’t the bit that interested him most about this situation. Oh no. What had his whole body buzzing was the glimpse of the diamond tattoo on this woman’s rib cage. It was clear she’d used that weird tape girls loved to keep her dress in place, but it must have come unstuck when she’d fallen and now the dress gaped enough to reveal the edge of some sexy, minimalist ink.

Prim Miss Imogen Hargrove.

If the tattoo hadn’t given her away, the self-righteous tone and use of shite would have done it. What the hell was she doing here?

And damn, her body was like a fucking midnight fantasy in that dress. The glossy black panels of silk and lace hugged her curvy figure, the plunging neckline giving him a good look at her gorgeous, full breasts.

The only problem was, if he said too much he’d give his identity away. And he wasn’t done with this bizarre exchange yet. So he bit his tongue, stifling a laugh as she got angrier and angrier at him.

“Seriously, what man refers to his future wife as a ball and chain?” She planted her hands on her hips and huffed when she didn’t get a response. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”

Ball and chain? Suddenly the penny dropped. No pun intended. She thought he was Jase’s friend Daniel. That would explain the identity mix-up. She must have seen the mask and overheard their conversation. He wanted to rub his hands together in glee. Anything that gave him leverage to stir up trouble with Imogen was a treat and today he’d hit the goddamn jackpot.

Never mind the fact that all he could think about was that moment in the archive room. With each move, her breasts shifted beneath the silky dress, stirring his memories and sending his blood south.

Caleb shrugged and steam practically rose out of Imogen’s ears. He pocketed her phone and stood there, curious as to what she’d do next.

You’re a horrible person, Caleb Allbrook. A despicable, no-good, dirty rotten scoundrel.

And fuck yeah did he love it.

“You...” Her lips were so pursed Caleb genuinely feared she’d cut off blood supply. “Smurfing smurf-face!”

Caleb couldn’t hold it in a second longer, a huge belly-deep laugh burst out of his lips. The woman was ridiculous in the best, most appealing way possible. Even now, she wouldn’t swear because people might hear. Not that there was much chance of it, since they were hiding behind the stables, where the garden turned into a lush bushland area, dense with trees and shrubs.

“Oh my God.” He bent forward, one hand braced on his knee as he laughed. “That’s brilliant. Smurfing—oof!”

Caleb jolted as his back hit the ground, the darkening evening sky now in his field of vision. Imogen was on top of him. What the hell? Had his favourite goodie two-shoes tackled a full-grown man to the ground? Colour him impressed.

He’d fantasised about getting her in this position many times. Admittedly, the circumstances had been a little different in his head.

“Give it back,” she demanded, wriggling on top of him as he tried to fend her off. She had him pinned down, one small hand braced on the ground next to his head and the other trying to worm into the inner pocket of his jacket.

Caleb grabbed her wrists and pulled them up by his head, forcing her to lean closer. Behind the elaborate mask, her olive green eyes were wide. Her ragged breathing caused her chest to rise and fall deeply, moving her breasts up and down against him. She straddled him, the full length of her dress bunched around her legs. Every last bit of blood in his body rushed south as she shifted, the sweet heat between her thighs brushing deliciously over his cock.

Truly despicable.

“Give me back my phone this second or I will scream blue murder,” she threatened. “Daniel—”

He yanked her hands higher, bringing her face even closer. They were nose to nose or, in this case, mask to mask. Her breath puffed over his cheek, and the scent of her perfume—something vanilla-like and softly feminine—wound through him like a drug.

He leaned forward, bringing his lips next to her ear. “Stop calling me that.”

“What?”

“My name isn’t Daniel.” With each word, his lips brushed over the shell of her ear. She stilled against him, her arms and legs going as rigid as steel. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

“You’re lying.” But her words were tinged with doubt. “Don’t think you can bluff your way out of this.”

“Do I sound like Daniel?” he asked. Would she place his voice or figure out that she’d made a mistake?

Part of him wanted her to know who he was, to see if she’d push him away or if she’d lean in farther. Had she been stewing on the way he’d touched her in the dark? Had she gotten hot and horny thinking about it?

“I...” She bit down on her lip. “I don’t know.”

“So you were spying on me, taking photos of a private meeting between two friends, and now you’ve tackled me to the ground, and yet you don’t know if I sound like the man you’re after?” He let his voice take on a growl and a tiny shudder ran through her. She shifted, her body rubbing against his erection so perfectly Caleb had to stifle a moan.

“But you’re wearing his mask,” she squeaked. “It’s one of a kind.”

“Apparently not. Daniel was pretty pissed about it, too.” He grinned. “Said it was highway robbery what they charged considering the designs weren’t exclusive.”

“Oh no,” she groaned. “That does sound like something he’d say.”

She looked at him dead on, confusion flashing in her eyes. He probably should clear up the mystery, hand her phone over and send her on her way. But she had both spied on him and knocked him over. In the grand scheme of things, his sins were matched by hers.

“She started it.” Really? Great justification, Allbrook. Totally solid.

He ignored the sarcastic voice in his head and met her stare.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

Damn it. He obviously hadn’t been doing a good enough job of disguising his voice. “I don’t know. Do you?” He spoke slowly, trying to use a gravelly tone to throw her off.

She huffed. “You’re impossible. Now let me go and give me back my phone. This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? You attacked me.”

“I didn’t attack you.” She tried to pull her hands back, but he held her tight. “I attempted to retrieve stolen property. You’re a thief.”

“And you’re a spy. Do you even have a ticket to this event?”

Her olive green eyes blinked and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Well...of course I do.”

Did Prim Miss Hargrove sneak into the Carmina Ball? The night was getting more and more interesting by the second. Her skin flushed pink and she stopped wriggling against him.

“I call bullshit,” he said. “And there’s a quick way to find out if you’re telling the truth.”

She swallowed, the delicate muscles in her neck pressing momentarily against her fair skin. “If you hand over my phone, I’ll leave now.”

“I’m not so sure I want you to leave. I could get used to being manhandled by a gorgeous woman.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t even see my face. Your flattery means nothing.”

But she was no longer struggling against him—her arms were soft in his, not straining or pulling. Her lips were parted and her tongue darted out to moisten them. Caleb had to force himself not to rub up against her.

“I don’t need to see your face,” he said. “Besides, it’s the whole package. I find feisty women incredibly attractive.”

“You think I’m feisty?” She cocked her head.

“Feisty, sexy. I bet you have men beating down your door.”

She snorted. “You’d be surprised.”

He would. Imogen might be a little—okay, a lot—tightly wound, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hotter than the gates of hell. Besides, today had proven there was a whole lot more to her than met the eye. And he was going to make it his mission to get to the bottom of this new side of her.

“Still want your phone back?” he asked.

“I do.”

“What do I get out of it, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes. “How about the opportunity to keep your man parts intact?”

“Always appreciated.” He nodded. “But you’ve put me in a tight spot. I’m pretty confident that you’ve snuck into this ball, which isn’t allowed. People pay a lot of money to be here and if I let you go, I’m aiding and abetting a criminal.”