Oh, God, some conversation was definitely called for.
"How many people know about Reece finding his wife through that introduction agency?" she blurted out.
"Only myself and Mike. So please don't spread that around. Reece told me in confidence."
Holly felt flattered now that he'd told her. He must really like her, and trust her, to tell her such sensitive information.
"I won't breathe a word. Who's Mike?"
"A computer genius friend of mine," Richard said. "And a very bad boy. So you keep right away from him, beautiful."
"I don't think there's any danger of my going off with some other man," she said rather ruefully. Didn't he realise how crazy she was about him? And how much she wanted him?
"You haven't met Mike."
"He must be a real charmer for you to be worried."
Richard laughed. "Mike has no charm whatsoever. Which for some weird and wonderful reason is his charm. I'm not sure what the attraction is for the ladies. He's not a pretty boy by any means. Looks like an escapee from the Russian Mafia. Always needs a haircut. Usually sports a five-day growth on his chin. But, for all that, there are some women-usually the oddest ones-who take one look at Mike and literally throw themselves at him. Maybe it's the challenge. Maybe they think they can change him. Little do they know, but he'll never change. Women are just rest and recreation to Mike. His life is his work, and making money."
"So why do you like him?"
"I guess it's because he's dead honest. And damn hard-working. You always know where you stand with Mike."
"Honesty is a good quality in a man," she admitted. "And rare as hen's teeth. But, from the sounds of things, I don't think you need worry about my going off with this Mike."
"Any man would be worried with you looking the way you look tonight," he said with a searing glance that set her skin breaking out into goose-bumps. "That has to be a designer dress."
"It's an Orsini," she confessed.
"Expensive?"
"Horribly."
"You should let me pay for it," he said. "You shouldn't be out of pocket, just because of me."
"I told you before, Richard. I like to pay my own way."
"I'll bet you let Dave buy you things."
Laughter burst from her lips. "You have to be joking. Dave never bought me a darned thing. No, I won't lie. He did buy me something once. A gold-plated pendant for my birthday last year. Must have cost him all of twenty dollars."
"The more I hear about this Dave, the worse he sounds. Whatever did you see in him?"
Holly shrugged. "Dave's a good salesman. As the saying goes, he could sell ice to Eskimos. He sold himself to me at a time when I was very lonely. My dad hadn't long died and I was beginning to see that my stepmother wasn't as fond of me as she'd pretended whilst he was alive. I'd always known Katie didn't like me, but I honestly thought Connie did. More fool me. I guess you could say I was ripe and ready to be conned."
"We all get conned at one time in our lives."
"I can't see you getting conned."
"Can't you? Well, you don't know me very well yet, do you?"
The moment the words were out of his mouth Richard regretted them. Talk about stupid! He was supposed to be seducing her tonight, not putting seeds of worry into her head.
If tonight worked out as well as he hoped it would, he would soon be asking her to marry him.
One of the reasons he'd chosen this party to bring Holly to tonight was to show her the kind of life she could have as his wife. A life of luxury and security, of pampering and privilege. She would never have to worry about money. She could have anything she wanted, and so could her children. Their children.
His second goal tonight was to give Holly pleasure. Sexual pleasure.
Admittedly, he was keen to have some sexual pleasure himself. More than keen, actually. The situation was close to desperation level. Dancing with her was going to prove damned difficult. Just the thought of taking her into his arms and holding her close made his groin ache. Hell on earth, maybe he should have come to visit her on Thursday night. Then things might not have been so … hard.
Reece's address came into view, the street lined with parked cars. Reece did not throw small parties.
"We'll have to park down the road a bit," Richard said, driving slowly past the house, "then walk back."
He had to drive for quite a way, eventually finding a spot.
"Sorry about the walk," he said as he turned off the engine and retrieved his car keys. "Will you manage in those shoes?"
He reached over to unsnap her seatbelt, bringing his face close to hers. Temptingly close. Before he could stop himself, his hand had lifted to encircle the soft skin at the base of her throat, sliding slowly upwards till it cupped her chin. Her eyes-what he could see of them-had definitely widened, her mouth falling open a little as well. Her perfume wafted up from that incredible cleavage, teasing him with its incredibly sexy scent.
One kiss, he thought. Surely one little kiss wouldn't hurt at this stage.
Her lips were ready for him. Ready and eager, flowering further open under his with a sound that was half sob, half moan. His tongue had slipped past them before his brain could stop it.
The rest of his body wasn't obeying him, either.
The desire for more than one little kiss kicked in with a vengeance and he found himself pressing her head back against the car seat, keeping her firmly captive there with his mouth whilst the hand that had been holding her chin slid down into the deep V of her neckline, finding its way like a homing beacon under the soft pink material and over one exquisitely naked breast.
Her back arched away from the seat, her mouth gasping under his. His tongue withdrew, his head lifting to watch her eyes dilate whilst he moved his palm back and forth across her already hardened nipple.
She seemed to have ceased breathing, her eyes round, their pupils hugely dark.
"Oh, please," she choked out when his hand stilled.
Her abject plea evoked a dark sense of triumph.
Later, he promised himself as he removed his hand. Later, he would make her beg again. But next time, she would be totally naked. And there would be no stopping. Not till she was crying out with one release after another. Not till she was entirely, totally his.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HOLLY closed the door of the ladies' powder room behind her.
What ordinary house, she thought agitatedly as she washed her hands, had two guest powder rooms, one for the gentlemen and one for the ladies?
But of course this wasn't an ordinary house. And these weren't ordinary people. The rich and the famous abounded out there. The wheelers and dealers of this world. Aside from her ultraglamorous host and hostess, Holly had already been introduced to two top politicians, a well-known television anchor-man and a famous actor with his new third wife, a gorgeous young thing twenty years his junior.
Holly felt she'd held her own, despite the company and despite being totally rattled by what had happened out in the car less than fifteen minutes earlier. But as soon as she'd been able to, she'd excused herself and asked directions to the powder room.
Now here she was, alone for a few precious moments, desperately trying to stop herself from thinking she'd fallen wildly in love with Richard Crawford.
Okay, so he was a good kisser. Lots of men were good kissers. Dave had been a pretty good kisser.
But once again, Holly could not remember responding to any of Dave's kisses the way she responded to Richard's kisses-with such utter abandonment of her own will. She would have let him do anything to her. Right there in his car. In a public street, for pity's sake.
She cringed when she recalled how she'd practically begged him to keep caressing her breast, which was still throbbing inside her dress. Both breasts were throbbing, even the one he hadn't touched.
What bewildered her the most was how cool Richard had been about it all. Cool and composed. Yet he was the man, wasn't he? Weren't men supposed to be turned on more easily than women? Weren't they the ones who usually lost control first?
Dave had been very impatient at times to get her into bed. Holly had quite enjoyed his lovemaking-when she wasn't worried about her own performance-but had never even come close to desperation, let alone begging.
Her face flamed with the memory. Was that why she wanted to believe she was in love with Richard? Would she feel better-less slutty-if it was love making her act so … so …
The door of the powder room opened and in walked her hostess, Alanna Diamond.