Kelly Hunter – Red-Hot Summer: The Millionaire's Proposition / The Tycoon's Stowaway / The Spy Who Tamed Me (страница 7)

‘Yeah—we covered that one.’

‘People who are twenty-seven are in the prime age bracket for relationships.’

‘Newsflash—so are people who are thirty-two.’

‘I’m not like other thirty-two-year-olds.’

‘And I’m not like other twenty-seven-year-olds. Remember? I’m the confirmed bachelor of Weeping Reef.’

‘You said bachelor, but not confirmed.’

‘I lied because I didn’t want to scare you off.’

‘Not exactly honourable.’

‘That’s because I’m not honourable. I have not one honourable intention when I look at you. Which won’t bother you since you’re not interested in relationships. So, Katie, you’re going to have to tell your forty-year-old he’s too late. Unless you didn’t like what just happened…?’

Kate leaned back in her chair. Licked her top lip again, which was now almost bare of lipstick. It was heavy, brooding. He wanted it on his body.

‘There’s no reason I won’t like it with Phillip just as much,’ she said.

‘What—you’d let Phillip go down on you on your desk during business hours, would you?’

‘He wouldn’t want to.’

‘And that’s why I’m the man for you. Because I would. I did. And I would do it again in a heartbeat, Katie.’

‘Kate. And it’s not a matter of liking. It’s a matter of being clear what the end-game is so nobody gets hurt.’

‘I don’t get hurt.’

She looked startled. ‘Everyone gets hurt.’

‘Not me.’

‘You’ve never been hurt?’

Scott’s body tensed. Redirect. ‘Let me put it this way. There’s no need for either of us to get hurt. You mentioned the end-game. Why can’t the end-game be sex? Pure and simple sex?’

Kate had picked up a pen and was tap, tap, tapping it on the desk. ‘Pure and simple sex,’ she said slowly. ‘No strings?’

‘You got it.’

Long moment. Tap, tap, tap. ‘And if I were to lay some ground rules…? You wouldn’t have a problem with that?’

‘Lay away.’

‘I’d need time. To think it through. Come up with an agreement.’

‘I’m sure you already have the ground rules worked out for old man Phillip.’

‘He’s not old.’

‘So your age fixation only works one way?’

No answer.

Scott smiled the Number One smile—I am available for sex immediately—as he got out his business card and tossed it onto her desk. ‘You’ve got until I see you tonight to work out whatever rules you want—but, just to be clear, whether we come to an agreement or not, you owe me. If I leave this office and you suddenly have second thoughts about embarking on an affair with me, you still owe me. You. Owe. Me. And I’m not leaving until you give me a time and a place for tonight where you’re going to pay me back. Katie. So let’s have it.’

She was thinking—he could almost see her brain fizzing.

And then, ‘Seven o’clock,’ she announced. ‘Come to my apartment.’ She scribbled something on a sheet of paper and held it out to him. ‘That’s the address. And it’s Kate.’

Scott reached for the paper, pocketed it.

Kate stood, walked around the desk to the door, opened it.

Scott got to his feet more slowly and followed her. But something about the controlled expression on her face got to him—so instead of walking out and heading merrily on his way, he stopped beside her, grabbed her upper arms, tugged her close and slammed his mouth hard on hers. Long, hot moment. Framed in the doorway for anyone who happened to be in the suite to see.

He released her just as suddenly, and smiled to see the combination of shock and desire on her face as he drew back.

‘You’ve got no idea how much I’m going to need that debt paid when I see you at seven tonight,’ he said softly.

And with that, he turned to wink at the unabashedly staring Deb and sauntered towards the exit.

As he reached it he heard Deb’s voice. ‘That was some five minutes, Kate. So, what will it be? Chicken and mung beans? Or do you need something more substantial—a chunk of raw meat, perhaps—to get your strength back?’

CHAPTER FOUR

RACING HOME AFTER WORK that evening, Kate was kicking herself for not going with her first instinct and simply supplanting Phillip with Scott at the bar. A quick twist of an arrangement already in place. Same bar. Same purpose. Just a different model.

She didn’t know why the invitation to her apartment had popped out of her mouth instead.

Although, thinking back to that hot scene on her desk—God, her desk!—she figured it was probably just as well she’d gone for a more private option. If she couldn’t control herself with Scott in her place of work, with Deb sitting just outside the door, how could she trust herself not to perform her payback sex act in the bar, on her knees under the table?

An image that got her so turned on she switched the water temperature of the shower to cold before getting under the spray.

Lust was still fizzing under her skin when she got out, so choosing something to wear took on a whole new meaning—because it had to be something that could come off easily.

Forgoing underwear, she grabbed a loose, tissue-thin shift in a rich russet colour. Very easy to take off when the moment came. And she hoped the outline of her body under the fine silk would drive Scott a little crazy in the meantime—payback for how crazy he’d driven her.

She left her hair loose. Put on a minimum of make-up. No lipstick—her mouth was going to be all over him, and she didn’t want to leave a trail over his clothes or his skin.

She was so full of nervous energy, she caught herself pacing the floor while she waited for him. At this rate one touch of his clever fingers would have her unravelling—and she was not going to unravel twice in one day! She poured herself a glass of very cold white wine and forced her fidgety limbs onto the couch, trying to summon at least a semblance of composure.

The intercom buzzed at six fifty-nine p.m. and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. This was it.

As she let Scott in she ran her eyes over his body—white T-shirt, jeans. Very cool, very gorgeous. Her eyes kept going. Down to his…

Oh.

Converse All Star sneakers.

Cool, gorgeous…and young.

Those sneakers were not something forty-year-old Phillip would wear.

Twenty-seven. Okay, wake-up call. What the hell had she been thinking? She forced her eyes away from his feet, up to his eyes, preparing to tell him the deal was off.

But the look on his face gave her pause.

Kate had never seen such taut grimness—and she’d seen some very grim faces in the courtroom. His look got more taut and even more grim as he ran his eyes over her dress, all the way down to her bare feet and back up.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, alarmed.

‘Yes,’ he said, and his voice was every bit as grim as his face. ‘I’ve been replaying that scene in your office in my head all afternoon, and I’m so desperate to get my hands on you I can’t think straight. So let’s skip the pleasantries.’

He nodded at the glass of wine on the coffee table.

‘I don’t want the drink you’re probably going to offer me. I’m not into mood music, so don’t bother asking me what I want to listen to. No need for a tour of the apartment—I can see it’s nice and modern and open-plan. Don’t give a rat’s about the view. And the only thing I want to eat is you. Again.’ Strained smile. ‘Now, are we doing the ground rules before or after I get my orgasm?’

‘Before,’ Kate said, any thought of backing away from their agreement obliterated by the heat of his words, the wild rush of desire that bolted through her.

‘Then let’s do it fast. Before I explode.’

The air was thick with lust as she guided him to the dining table, handed him the pages she’d prepared for their signatures.

‘So we’re—what?’ he asked. ‘Signing a contract?’