He led her into the hotel room and she heard the door slam behind her, minus her fingers this time. He showed her into the bathroom, still steamy from his shower, and turned on the cold water tap. He gently guided her fingers under the cool rush.
"How's that?" he asked.
Abbey glanced up and caught him watching her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Their eyes locked for a long moment and Abbey saw something in them that she liked. Something mysterious, sensuous.
Warm tingles rushed down her spine and sent the blood pumping in her veins. Her entire body heated up under that stare. She was caught, mesmerized like a moth in a circle of light. It gave her a rush.
Suddenly, he let go of her hand, as if it had bitten him.
"Okay?" he asked, turning away and reaching for a towel from the rack.
Abbey blushed as she thought about taking off the one he wore. Something told her that his bottom half would be just as sexy as the top.
"Fine," she managed to say, accepting the towel. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"You know you should've been more careful. You could've done some serious damage."
I could've done some serious damage? Abbey wanted to say, but refrained. Arguing with Damien Vane wasn't going to make him want her. And she needed for him to want her.
Badly.
"You're right," she muttered.
"Are you sure your fingers are okay?"
Abbey wiggled them and nodded. "All attached."
"Good. Next time be more careful." He paused, still watching her. One eyebrow rose and he coughed politely. Her cue to leave.
She ignored it.
"How about that massage now?" Abbey cringed at the high pitch of her voice. She sounded like a bimbo, desperate to bed this man. It wasn't far from the truth. She did feel a little stupid today, especially after finding out about Tarken and Melinda, considering everyone in the office had known about their affair for weeks.
Damien Vane grinned. Actually, it was more of a smirk, but it did produce one cute dimple on his cheek. "Persistent aren't you?"
It wasn't a flat out refusal. Could he be wavering? If he was, it was time to go in for the kill.
"I just want to give you your prize from hotel management. They'd be most upset to find out I didn't deliver."
"I guess..." Damien glanced from Abbey to the doorway, as if realizing there was no escape.
"I won't bite." She grinned, and touched his bare arm. His skin was warm and smooth. "Come into the bedroom where you'll be more comfortable." She took his hand the way he'd taken hers a moment ago.
He snapped it away. "How about the lounge?"
"That'll be fine too."
She led the way out of the bathroom, using her best bottom-wiggling walk which she hoped looked seductive and not as ridiculous as it felt. In the lounge room of the Executive Suite she stopped by the window and opened the blinds.
He crossed his arms and glared at her as if she were a fool. "What are you doing?"
Great, his sympathy was drying up fast. Time to make her move. Abbey turned to him, leaned forward and lowered her lashes and her voice to a seductive whisper. "I like to do this by moonlight."
"Moonlight?" He peered out the window and up at the dark sky. "I think the moon's gone behind the clouds."
"It'll come out again soon. This is Melbourne. You Sydney-siders don't know how the weather can change down here." She snapped her fingers. "Like that."
His large, black eyes narrowed, watching her. Studying her. It was unnerving but thrilling at the same time. She hoped he liked what he saw. Why wouldn't he? She'd never worn an outfit so daring, so revealing, in her life and her body was quite good, if not supermodel hot.
From the way Vane looked at her, she got the impression he thought so too. Like a compass pointing to magnetic north, he couldn't keep his eyes off her.
"How did you know I was from Sydney?" he asked, suddenly focusing on her eyes.
"Um, management told me."
He nodded slightly. His gaze shifted down again, lingering around her br**sts and Abbey suddenly wished she hadn't worn such a revealing top. She also wished she'd worn a bra because her ni**les were puckering -and not because she was cold. In fact, she was far from it. Her body felt like it was sizzling and his intense gaze wasn't cooling her down any.
"You sure you're a masseur?"
His eyes traveled lower to her waist where a patch of flesh was revealed between top and skirt, and down to the hem of the mini skimming her thighs just below her butt.
"An official hotel masseur?"
His eyes flew to her face and Abbey swallowed.
"Of course," she said, walking over to the phone beside the couch. She picked up the receiver. "Call reception if you like."