The Dare Collection June 2019. Rachael Stewart

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СКАЧАТЬ you have a time machine handy, no.’

      Speculation flickered through his eyes. ‘You’re in a rush to get somewhere?’

      Reluctant to tell him I missed my cottage by the lake, I shrugged. ‘I’m a hands-on boss with a demanding business to run.’

      ‘And business is your only reason?’

      I frowned, irritated that I’d given myself away somehow even before I’d been able to formulate a clear plan of how I’d get Damian in my bed. ‘What other reason would there be? And why would it concern you?’

      The flicker in his eyes intensified. ‘You’ve sat next to me all week. I know you’re intense when a pitch interests you but otherwise you’re frustratingly... buttoned-up. Maybe I’m interested in what else makes you tick.’

      This was my chance to test the waters. ‘It’s a little late, isn’t it? Didn’t we already put the cart before the horse, so to speak?’

      Shadows crossed his face but he still shrugged. ‘Maybe you’re not the only one who craves time machines.’

      My breath knotted in my throat. ‘You sound like you have regrets.’

      ‘A bloody boatload of them.’ His gaze met mine, and a wave of heat slammed into me. ‘But in other ways, I wouldn’t change a thing.’

      Right. The sex had served its purpose, insulated him from whatever demons had hounded him that night for a little while. Even if he’d regretted it after, he’d still indulged himself.

      His asshole ways, however, were ones he wouldn’t change. Not if it allowed him to walk away with the deal that should’ve included me.

      ‘Well, I’m not interested in your little getting-to-know-you expedition, so save us both the time-wasting, hmm?’

      His gaze swept down for a moment, his mouth twisting ruefully. ‘It might make for good television but, as sexy as they are, I’m growing weary of you glaring at me all the time. You have a spectacular smile. I’d love to see it again.’ His low, deep voice shot flames straight to parts of my body that made me want to clench my thighs.

      ‘The whole point of a one-night stand is that it’s uncool to keep bringing it up.’

      He stepped closer and leaned against the wall next to me. The stance threw his body into a sexy position that made my heart beat faster.

      ‘Do you regret it?’ he demanded abruptly, a throb of something indefinable in his voice.

      I bit the inside of my cheek, resisted the urge to lie and tell him that I regretted every moment of it. ‘I’m an adult. I made a consensual decision to sleep with you, and the experience wasn’t awful.’ I should’ve left it at that, but again my tongue got the better of me. ‘Do you?’

      Aquiline nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his gaze dropped hungrily to my mouth before rising again. ‘I regret certain aspects of it.’

      I was weak enough to step through the door he’d left open. ‘Which aspects?’

      His silence lasted a few seconds too long. ‘There was a...recklessness I could’ve done without. I’m not the type of man who follows women to their hotel rooms.’

      ‘Because you’re too busy fending them off when they throw themselves at you? Got it.’

      He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He seemed...weary. Worn down by a heavy weight. I steeled myself, yet again, from asking what that burden was. ‘What’s it going to take for you to change your mind about me?’ he rasped.

      ‘Admitting you fucked up would be a great start,’ I returned sharply.

      ‘I didn’t fuck up. I fucked you and I don’t mean that even remotely metaphorically. I fucked you as thoroughly and enjoyably as you fucked me,’ he breathed in that low, lethal voice, his simmering stare starting fires in all the right places. ‘That’s what pisses you off, isn’t it? You wish you could dismiss it as the worst fuck you’d ever had but you can’t because we were that good together. Admit it.’

      ‘You’re wrong. I never disparage good sex. Treacherous assholes, however...’

      His face clenched tighter than I’d ever seen it. ‘Excuse me?’

      From behind his shoulder I spotted the producer heading our way. ‘Don’t worry. I hear what goes around, comes around. And this time, I’m going to come out on top.’

      The satisfaction I should’ve felt walking away was marred by the distinct notion that I was playing with lethal fire.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      Neve

      JUST FOR THE fun of it, I went toe to toe with him on the next pitch before making a tactical withdrawal.

      He knew what I was up to, of course, and his gaze grew increasingly assessing as the next contestants entered the den.

      I redirected my gaze to where Chinese screens with colourful frames were being erected. There were six in total and, having learned on the first day to take my cue from the crew’s excitement, I paid closer attention. I’d researched the past shows, knew there was a solitary gem that stood head and shoulders above mundane pitches.

      My instincts screamed this could be it.

      Surreptitiously, I noted Damian’s interest and plastered on my poker face as the crew finished setting up, noting the mastery in the hand-stitched embroidery etched in the red silk cloth that covered the frames.

      The cameras started rolling.

      A man and woman of similar height and colouring entered, their smiles open and friendly.

      ‘Hi, Raiders, I’m Sam Weston and this is my brother Tyler,’ the woman said. ‘I earned the right to speak to you first today because I’m three minutes older than him.’

      ‘What she means is, she didn’t really give me a choice,’ Tyler replied.

      Chuckles echoed through the room, lightening the mood.

      I angled my body subtly towards Damian, crossed one leg over the other, and immediately sensed tension rise in his body.

      ‘We’re here to ask for a seven-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar investment in return for a twenty-five per cent stake in our business,’ Sam stated. ‘It’s a huge sum, we know, but what we have to offer in return will blow your socks off.’ She shared a smile with her brother. ‘Please allow us to let your fantasies come true.’

      They approached the Chinese screens, drew them to one side and, in sync, tugged away the silk cloth to reveal a set of large photographs.

      One picture was a replica of a scene from Alice in Wonderland, the other a Victorian-era agency parlour. They unveiled the next frame to reveal a French boudoir, СКАЧАТЬ