The Dare Collection: February 2018. Anne Marsh

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ of her own games, and the exhausting jumble of her feelings, she blurted out her first thought. ‘I grew up in New Jersey, just me and my mom.’

      He lifted his chin, encouraging.

      ‘All this…’ she glanced around the opulence of the château’s manicured gardens and pristine pool ‘…is completely alien to me.’

      His smile dropped and he pressed his mouth to hers.

      She twisted away from the sublime slide of his lips, irritation buzzing beneath her skin. ‘I don’t need your pity. I’ve made good for myself.’

      His eyes hardened. ‘I don’t pity you.’ Another kiss, harder than the last. ‘I admire you.’

      Warmth spread through her limbs. She didn’t need his praise, but it was nice all the same. They kissed again. Libby was uncertain who’d initiated it. It didn’t matter. The effect was the same—her mind grew fuzzy, her limbs liquefied and she curled her legs around his hips, deepening their kiss and pressing him between her legs, where she wanted him.

      Would she even care if someone saw them? With the warm sun on her back and a wet Alex to explore?

      He pulled back, eyes hooded. ‘I want to see you again—beyond this week.’ He pressed her against the side of the pool, as if he guessed his admission would make her want to flee.

      She unlocked her crossed ankles, sliding down his body. ‘I…’

      An image slammed into her mind, as clear as the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean—Alex, more dates like this, more adventures, a shared life… Her breath caught, her mind flicking a switch to close down the slug of yearning.

      She pushed at his shoulders, trying and failing to create some distance. ‘I live in New York.’

      He didn’t give an inch, his body a wall of solid warmth before her.

      ‘So? My mother is French, my father English.’

      He spoke with that sultry drawl, tempting her, as if her reasoning had no effect on his argument, as if the benefits were obvious.

      He nuzzled her neck again, his lips seductive. ‘You forget I have a plane. New York’s not that far away.’

      For a second her head lolled back as Alex’s kiss found the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. Ignoring the flood of heat to her erogenous zones, she focussed on the prickle under her skin.

      ‘Alex… This is just temporary. Just fucking, remember?’ She cringed, the words she’d uttered scalding her vocal cords.

      His lips ceased their meandering. Libby wished she’d kept her mouth shut as prickles of unease doused the pleasurable heat.

      He leaned away to glare at her, their bodies separating an inch and allowing a rush of cool water between them.

      ‘And if I want more?’ Eyes hard, the jut of his chin determined—this was the formidable businessman others saw. The driven man used to making things happen just the way he wanted them.

      She shook her head. She couldn’t give him more. Sometimes you didn’t get what you wanted. Sometimes it was snatched away, no matter how hard you clung.

      He clenched his jaw, eyes searing. ‘What do you want, Olivia?’

      For once she had no answer to the now familiar question that had become a mantra for them—a prelude to their game. Wanting him sexually? Easy. Discovering inconsequential facts about his life? Fun. But more than that…?

      She considered herself incapable of more. And not with a man like Alex—wealthy enough to pursue dangerous pastimes, driven to recklessness through never having to accept that something was off-limits, an adrenaline junkie who grasped life with both hands…

      Not exactly like Callum, but close enough to amplify the chills set off by this turn in the conversation and the increasing physical distance between them.

      Had the moment arrived? Was it time to give it to him straight? She’d always been honest with him.

      ‘I want to do a good job for you. I hope I’ve done that.’

      ‘You have.’

      He sensed the brush-off. That was evident in the minute muscle twitching in his clenched jaw.

      Libby covered his mouth with her fingers. She couldn’t leave him with any doubt.

      ‘I need to get home, to sort out my business.’

       Coward.

      ‘Sonya wants out of the company so she can be at home with her baby. I need to find someone to replace her—work out if I can afford to buy her out or if I’ll need a new partner.’

      New shivers came, and the taste of acid, an ache under her ribs.

      He shrank against her thigh, easing his body completely away from hers. Her fingers flexed, desperate to pull him back. But she couldn’t lead him on. Couldn’t let him think there was any future for them beyond this week, no matter how tantalising the prospect.

      ‘That’s all I can think about right now.’ All she’d allow herself to think about. ‘I’m sorry.’ She pressed a brief kiss on his mouth, swallowing back a knot of emotion. ‘This has been fun. An adventure I didn’t expect. Thank you.’

      His eyes narrowed, determination sparking in their depths. ‘So let me be clear. You’re ending this? You have no interest in seeing me beyond this weekend?’

       Yes.

       No.

       I can’t.

      Alex’s phone trilled from the terrace, saving her from answering. She recoiled, shrinking inside. He gave her a hard stare as he moved away, the chill he left behind spreading to the pit of her stomach.

      Then he surprised her by returning just as quickly, clasping her chin in his hand and lifting her face so their eyes aligned.

      ‘I need to get that.’ His sigh gusted over her forehead as he pressed a final kiss there. ‘But this conversation isn’t over.’

      Sprinting across the width of the pool, he hauled his body from the water and in two strides reached the table where they’d left their cell phones.

      The final look he’d shot her told Libby he meant what he said. Of course he wouldn’t give in without a fight—he was a cut-throat businessman, used to getting his own way. Something she admired—a massive part of his appeal, despite her little game of power play.

      Libby harnessed her restlessness and the dull ache taking residence in her gut, sinking beneath the water and executing a few invigorating lengths of breaststroke. Perhaps the activity would dispel the hollow space where her vital organs should be. Because if her decision was so right, why did unease hound her every stroke?

      Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut for once? Glossed over his proposition, laughed it off, sidestepped the debate with the distraction СКАЧАТЬ