The Dare Collection June 2019. Rachael Stewart

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СКАЧАТЬ I’m saying it now. I intend to be the guy who takes care of that ache between your legs. Is that bloody clear enough for you?’

      ‘I think—’

      The rest of her response never came. Her gaze shifted away from mine, widened, and I lost her again. This time to the splendour of a suite transformed into a nineteenth-century masterpiece.

      ‘Oh, my God.’ Her voice was hushed. Reverent. Filled with the kind of pleasure that had filled my ears one long night two years ago and not for long enough last night.

      I stepped inside, kicked the door shut and reluctantly dragged my gaze from her face to the room.

      It was impressive. The attention to detail alone was exceptional.

      ‘Indeed. Not what I expected,’ I conceded.

      She turned to face me. ‘Let me guess, you anticipated a French boudoir to be a clichéd blood red and black silk?’

      I shrugged. ‘Isn’t that what our clients will expect?’

      ‘They’ll be required to fill in a questionnaire on their wants and desires but if they’re open to suggestions, why give them a tired old truism when they can have a fresh original?’

      As she talked she wandered away from me, trailing her fingers over the heavy-silk-draped walls and gold brocade curtains. The mint-green and gold bedspread complemented the furniture right down to the gold bows holding back the filmy gold muslin material draping the four posts of the bed. When she fingered the fringe of an embroidered pillow, something hot and heavy thudded in my groin.

      ‘You like it, I take it.’

      She glanced over her shoulder, unabashed pleasure in her eyes. ‘From the first glance it looks great, don’t you think?’

      I nodded. ‘It’s impressive.’

      Her gaze roved contemplatively around the room. ‘They’ve done a fantastic job, but...’ She paused, her gaze locking on mine. Slate-blue eyes fell to an alluring half mast, her lips parting to suck in a delicate breath.

      ‘But?’

      ‘But... I think to fully appreciate it, it needs to be truly experienced,’ she murmured sultrily.

       Me. Pick me.

      My hand itched to shoot up into the air like an eager schoolboy intent on impressing his hot teacher. I curbed the urge by shoving both hands into my pockets. ‘What exactly do you have in mind?’

      She held up a long manicured index finger, strolled over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. ‘Whitney, can you reschedule my meeting with the spa managers for Monday? Great, thanks. And can you get catering to send a bottle of Dom Perignon to the Willow Suite, please? And canapés. I want everything in here in one hour. And I’m not to be disturbed. Thanks.’

      She put the phone down, eyed me for a minute, then walked to an antique closet and pulled it open.

      ‘What are you doing?

      She wistfully caressed the period costume hanging in the closet. ‘Right now, I’m heading back to my place to take a long bath, then I’m going to return to this room, and make full and, hopefully, rewarding use of it. If I’m fully satisfied, I intend to get my lawyer to expedite drafting the partnership papers with Sam and Tyler.’

      I arrived in front of her without being aware I’d moved, slid my fingers around her nape and tilted her chin up. I was a little relieved she was letting me touch her after how we’d parted earlier. ‘Specifics, Neve. Tell me how you intend to test the room out.’

      A wicked smile curved her lips. ‘Why? Imagination is a powerful thing. For example, I imagined a different life for myself than the one I was born into and look at me now,’ she murmured, almost to herself.

      I slotted that little piece of info away because my more urgent question burned harder. ‘Stop playing games with me. Tell me.’ My gruff tone had everything to do with the erection tenting my pants.

      She swayed towards me, her belly brushing my uncomfortable thickness. I smothered a groan as she mimicked my gesture and curled her hand around my nape to nudge my head down until our lips were a half-inch apart. ‘I’ll tell you this, Damian. Whatever I do it’ll be amazing, and it may or may not involve my favourite gadgets. But if you want to find out...’ She inhaled slowly.

      God, she was a cock-tease. And I was fucking lapping it up. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Then be here at eight. Not a minute later or the door gets locked. Is that understood?’

      It was another subtle dig at my tardiness to our first production meeting. ‘I’m so hard for you I can’t see straight. Your pupils are already dilated with the thought of being fucked hard and fast on every surface in this room. If you think anything’s going to keep me away from that door, think again.’ I brushed my lips over hers in a butterfly kiss—because anything else would’ve ignited the raging need coursing through me—and stepped back.

      I left the suite wondering how I was going to fill my time for sixty whole minutes without going clean out of my mind.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      Neve

      HE KNOCKED AT seven fifty-five.

      Firm. Bridled impatience. Too self-assured. Just like the man.

      No. Not totally true. I’d seen another layer of Damian today at lunch and that’d thrown me for a loop ever since I’d walked away from the table. Granted, I’d been more than irritated too.

      But that brief glimpse into his life, relayed with a whole host of new, bleak demons in his eyes, had planted something inside me I couldn’t shake off. It came uncomfortably close to compassion. Because that meant I risked seeing him in a different light. One that might lead to a further softening, even understanding the man.

      Even if he hadn’t shut me down, I didn’t want to deal with another facet of a man I found far too fascinating. Besides, I should be used to getting shut down. My mother had done that my whole life, perpetually sabotaging the link I’d promised to keep alive, one that still felt vital to me, even after all this time. Even after common sense dictated I should write it off as a failed venture and move on.

      The knock came again, more insistent.

      I took a breath, reminded myself that this was about teaching Damian a lesson in the most basic way possible.

      Sex. That was all.

      Nevertheless, my stomach flipped in excitement, mockingly contradicting my level-headedness. I pulled the full-length robe tighter around my body and secured it with the long velvet belt.

      One last glance in the mirror, and I answered the door.

      He stood square, tall and spectacular in the doorway, his brooding hazel gaze latching onto mine. It stayed for a tense minute before drifting over my shoulder into the room to СКАЧАТЬ