Craving Jamie. Emma Darcy

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ could sense the dangerous, ruthless edge to him, the steely will of a survivor, a mind constantly watchful, determined on knowing, sifting, acting. It completely unnerved her. Yet she should have realised it had to be there in him to get where he was.

      All the clippings Aunty Em had sent from newspapers and business magazines, reporting on the spectacular rise of Jim Neilson in financial circles, the man with the Supercray computer mind, the analytical genius, always one step ahead of market trends... It had surely been implicit in those columns if she’d been objective enough to read between the lines.

      He was always referred to as Jim. Never Jamie. Never any mention of his earlier life. It was Aunty Em’s opinion he had comprehensively blocked that out, and he wouldn’t welcome any reminder of the past. It was behind him. Dead and deeply buried. If he’d wanted to reconnect with Beth or any of the Delaney family, he’d had more than enough years—and money—to do so.

      She had accepted that long ago, yet she’d still been drawn to take this chance of having a look at the man he had become. More than look, if she was ruthlessly honest with herself. The need to know, finally and conclusively, had to be laid to rest.

      Suddenly challenged with meeting him face to face, she frantically fretted over what to say. He might hate her for bringing his valley life back to him. Might also put all sorts of false interpretations on her coming here to see him, now that he was regarded as someone worth knowing. She inwardly recoiled from such an outcome. Let it go, her mind screamed, even as he spoke and forced her to meet the immediate present.

      “Can I offer you a glass of champagne?”

      Her throat was dry. “Yes. Thank you,” she managed to say huskily. He was so close to her. Couldn’t he see Beth in her eyes?

      He smiled as he handed the glass to her, a winning smile designed to charm a woman he was meeting for the first time. “You have the advantage over me.”

      His voice had deepened since he was fifteen. His tone was low, sexy, seductive. It had a mesmerising effect on her. She didn’t catch his meaning. “Pardon?”

      “You know who I am,” he stated, his eyes subtly challenging her to deny it.

      “Yes,” she admitted. Stupid to pretend otherwise. Her smile was wry. “I know many things about you. But that’s not really knowing you, is it?”

      He laughed. It was a dark sound. Her skin prickled, instinct warning her to beware. This was not Jamie. This was very much a predatory male on the prowl.

      “Media reports on me are usually slanted to suit the journalist,” he said mockingly. “Much better to do your own personal research.”

      Blatant suggestiveness. Beth tried to push aside the disturbing physical element to satisfy some of her curiosity about him. “Do you ever let anyone into your private world?”

      “I’ve just opened my door to you. Would you like to progress to, shall we say, a more intimate level?”

      The sexual magnetism he was projecting took her breath away. Almost everything about him took her breath away. He was a head taller than she was, and she was above average height. His once slight and wiry physique was now solid with hard muscle, exuding masculinity.

      His face no longer had a lean and hungry look. It was filled out in a strikingly handsome way, strong and firm, aggressively male, the brilliant intelligence in his dark eyes adding a dynamic quality that made it difficult to look away from him. His thick black hair was closely cropped, like a shiny helmet, emphasising a sleek animal appeal that was highlighted by his black leather jacket.

      Beth found herself wondering whether his expertise as a lover would live up to the pulse-quickening promise of his looks. He was arrogantly confident of his attraction. No doubt he had every reason to be. But what did he deliver when it came to intimacy?

      She sipped the champagne, giving her heart time to calm down while she considered how best to handle what was happening. It was totally outside any scenario she had imagined.

      “Come now, don’t go shy on me,” he chided. “I much prefer spontaneity to calculation.”

      Hard cynicism behind his surface amusement. The impulse to probe a little spurred her to ask, “Do you make a habit of picking up women on a whim?”

      “No. I tend to be very selective. Consider yourself an exception to the rule.”

      The hope that wouldn’t be stifled kicked through her heart. “Why make an exception of me?” Did he feel something? A faint thread of familiarity teasing his mind?

      “I was bored with women in black. Your yellow suit caught my eye. Then you caught my eye. Are you going to tell me your name?”

      She shook her head, knowing it would bring an abrupt end to this strangely piquant encounter. To tell him would shame her. If he didn’t feel it...

      “What point is there in remaining a mystery woman?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you married?”

      “No.”

      “Attached?”

      “No.”

      She thought of Gerald and felt only relief that she had ended their relationship. She’d found his academic world too constricting in the end, and Gerald too full of himself and his life to see anything else. Besides, meeting Jim Neilson was an object lesson to her. Even if nothing came of it, the sheer physical stimulation he generated showed her what she’d been missing out on. Next time she wouldn’t settle for anything less. If there was a next time.

      Her left hand was suddenly grasped and lifted, strong, purposeful fingers running over hers, feeling for indentations. Her skin seemed to spring alive under the cursory touch. She quelled the impulse to snatch her hand away, a silly overreaction.

      “Satisfied?” she asked, realising he’d been checking for rings and ring marks.

      His eyes blazed into hers. “No. We’ve a long way to go before I’m satisfied, golden girl. Come and have dinner with me.”

      He didn’t wait for a response. He set off, weaving through the crowd, pulling her after him, her hand firmly wrapped in his. Without staging a public scene, Beth had little option but to follow, her mind whirling over his arrogant assumption she would fall in with his wishes, her heart fluttering at the thought of being alone with him. A flash came to her of Jamie pulling her after him up the bush track to the old quarry, saying she was safe with him. He’d look after her.

      But this wasn’t Jamie.

      Confusion roared through her in turbulent waves. She felt she was being tugged in all sorts of directions—memories, needs that had never been answered, dreams that were suddenly all awry and permeating everything, an acute awareness of the strength of the hand, the strength of the man who was making her follow him, his powerful aura of decision, action, command holding her more captive than the fingers clamped around her wrist.

      They reached the steps leading to the entrance of the gallery. Jim Neilson paused to hand his glass to the attendant who’d let Beth in. “Nice showing,” he said. “Mind taking care of these for us?”

      “My pleasure, Mr. Neilson,” came the obliging reply, the attendant swiftly relieving Beth of her glass, as well. “See anything you like?” A hopeful СКАЧАТЬ