Bedding The Billionaire(11)

Something told him she was going to make him excited just by looking at him through those thick black lashes.

Nick barely noticed the heat outside. He couldn't stop thinking about Abbey.

"Hi." Abbey emerged through the glass door to the bar. She pouted at him, her lower lip protruding. Kissable.

"Not having second thoughts, I hope," she said lightly. She grinned.

He hesitated, caught between his warring emotions. He should go. He didn't need a hooker. Finally, pride won-he didn't run away from anything, especially a challenge.

"No, of course not." He had to pay her for last night anyway. He might as well have a few drinks, pay her then send her on her way. He didn't have to succumb a second time, but it was common decency to pay for the services he'd already used.

"I ordered us a bottle of Chardonnay," she said opening the door for him. "I hope that's okay."

"As long as it's cold."

She turned and glanced at him over one naked shoulder, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "A bit hot and bothered today are you?"

"Hot, yes. Bothered, never."

They sat at a table in a dark corner of the restaurant. The red and black décor was modern and fresh. The wine list was long and didn't have prices, and the waiters wore crisp black suits. Thankfully, it was cooler inside than out, but it wasn't cold like many places are in summer with their air conditioning turned up too high.

A few other patrons sat alone on bar stools, or in couples in other dark, recessed booths. Considering it was Tuesday night, it was probably as busy as the place would get.

Good. It was unlikely he would see anyone from the seminar. He sat with his back facing the door just in case.

Abbey sipped her wine. She looked sensational with her sunglasses perched on top of her head, holding her mass of hair off her face. Nick liked that. He liked to see her features-she was an extremely attractive woman.

Her makeup wasn't as heavy as the night before, which was a good thing too. He liked his women to wear as little makeup as possible, and she didn't really need it.

His gaze wandered lower to her br**sts land the strapless top. Not really appropriate for such a salubrious place. She looked like a hooker.

"You seem uncomfortable," Abbey said, a cheeky grin lighting up her face.

Nick liked the way she seemed to find everything amusing.

"Worried about being seen with me?" she asked.

"No! No, of course not." He shrugged. "I don't know anyone in Melbourne anyway, so..."

Abbey glanced down at the fingers cradling the stem of her glass. "I see." Her hand reached down under the table. Although Nick couldn't see, from the way she moved it appeared she was trying to cover up the split in her skirt. It didn't matter, the table cloth was floor length and covered everything from the waist down anyway.




 

 

As if suddenly realizing, Abbey's hand returned to the tabletop and she clasped her fingers together, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles. Trying to cover her br**sts?

Had he made her feel that self-conscious? Impossible. Hookers didn't get uncomfortable in revealing outfits.

He sipped his wine, swirling it around his palette before swallowing. A nice vintage. He wondered whether Abbey had taken pot luck when she ordered it, or whether she actually knew a good wine from a bad one without a price tag to check. In reality, it was probably neither. No doubt she'd asked the waiter before she ordered.

"Nice wine," he said, wanting to fill the silence.

"It's one of my favorites. I always order it-" She stopped and glanced away.

Another awkward silence stretched between them, and Nick suddenly regretted coming. Sex was one thing, but making small talk with a woman he barely knew was awful. He'd much rather skip this part of the evening.

"How was your conference?" Abbey asked with a polite smile.

"How did you know about that?"

She shrugged. "They told me."

"They?"

"Hotel management. You know, complementary massage and all that. I asked what you're here for and they said a software conference at the Crown Complex."

"Seminar," Nick corrected. So she was going to stick with the free massage story. Fine, he could play along.

"So you're a salesman for a software firm. How exciting."

She was a terrible actress. Her eyes glazed over in boredom when she said the words salesman and software. He couldn't blame her-it did sound dull.

But it irritated him that she thought he was just a salesman, working for just another software company. Not the owner and CEO of the most prestigious and lucrative technology firm in the entire southern hemisphere.

It irritated him even more that he couldn't tell her the truth either. She thought he was Damien Vane. The hotel thought he was Damien Vane. The potential clients at the seminar thought he was Damien Vane.