Bedding The Billionaire(3)

Damien Vane strode over and for a sickening moment, Abbey thought he was going to call her bluff. But he reached for the receiver, took it from her fingers and placed it back in its cradle.

He looked down at Abbey with that stare which entranced her and heated her to boiling point. "I believe you." His voice was low, dangerous. "I don't know anyone in Melbourne. No one who'd send me a ... masseur, already paid for."

"Good," she said lightly, ignoring the implication that she was there to give him more than just a massage.

"Let's just get one thing straight," he said, his tone back to its deep hum. "I've never had a...massage...before and if this one isn't what I expect then I'll ask you to leave. Got it?"

Abbey nodded. Damn. The implication that he would refuse her if she gave him anything more than a massage came through loud and clear. So he thought he had willpower of steel, huh? She'd just see about that. Let him try to resist Abbey McPherson in full sensuality mode.

"Sit," she ordered. He sat on the couch and she knelt beside him.

Lucky for her the couch was facing the window, although there was another chair in the way. She stood and moved it.

"So I can see the moon when it finally appears," she said.

He eyed her as if she were a nut job then bent his head forward, waiting patiently for her to touch him.

She did, and the same tingle zinged through her as when he'd looked at her in the bathroom mirror. It started at her fingertips, where his flesh met hers, and rippled up her arms, into her br**sts, her stomach and thighs.

Abbey sucked in air and willed herself to concentrate. She couldn't let passion take over-she had a job to do. Besides, he was a complete stranger. A sleazy one, so Lucy had told her, and married.

She kneaded his shoulders and neck, rubbing the muscle, enjoying the way it rippled beneath her fingers. Damien Vane had fabulous skin. Smooth, unblemished with a golden tan. She pressed harder and was delighted, and surprised, to hear a small moan. Surprised because she didn't have a clue what she was doing.

When it felt like his body was softening up and relaxing under her, her left hand roamed around to his chest and played with the tiny hairs. She pushed her own chest into his back and rubbed until her ni**les peaked.

His body stiffened.

Abbey's heart rate doubled and she hoped he couldn't feel it. This was it. He was either going to throw her out or cave in. Most men would cave in, and going by his file at Lucy's office, this man should too. The list of mistresses, supplied by his really pissed-off wife, was too long to fit in the database.

But he didn't seem to be relaxing anymore. Quite the opposite, he seemed to be growing tense, and Abbey started to panic. A massage with them both fully clothed probably wasn't explicit enough for Lucy's purposes. She needed photos, the sexier the better, to send to his wife in Sydney.

Try again, Abbey.

Her hand returned to his back and continued kneading. She looked up at the window and mouthed the word "sorry" to Lucy who would be watching her through her camera lens from the office building across the road.




 

 

Abbey needed to go slower. Not just so this man was relaxed beyond suspicion, but to also calm her own racing nerves.

She could hear Lucy's words, spoken to her just before she entered Le Meridian. "Just enjoy yourself, Abbey. You're going to be in the Executive Suite of a five star hotel with an attractive man. Just let whatever happens, happen."

"But what if he, you know, expects me to have sex with him?"

"Just do it, Girl," Lucy had said. "Enjoy unadulterated sex with a complete stranger. For once, let yourself go. You deserve it after what you've been through. No strings, no expectations, no waiting by the phone tomorrow. Trust me, it's exhilarating."

Sure, that was all right for Lucy to say. She'd always been the wild child, the love 'em and leave 'em type, even seven years ago at University. Lucy knew how to get a man to want her more than he wanted anything else. She'd have Vane begging for it right about now.

All Abbey could manage was a moan.

Damien's head rolled forward. His hair was cut short but had enough length in it to be sexy. The back of his neck was long, perfectly arched and smooth. So very smooth beneath her fingers.

Her touch lightened, changing from the hard rub to a gentle brush. She ran her finger from his hairline, down the curve of his spine to where it disappeared into his towel. Then using her palm, she took the same route back up, slowly. She marveled at the smoothness of his skin, the way he shivered, just slightly, and the way tiny goosebumps formed on the flesh she touched.

She rubbed both her hands along each shoulder admiring the hard muscle, then bent forward and kissed him lightly on the back of the neck. He didn't move. In fact, he was completely still.