“Christ, why do I feel like I’m fifteen and out past curfew?”
“I can’t speak for you, but with the brevity of my ah… friendships with women, phone calls have never been an issue before.”
“Jesus, maybe it really is karma. I’ve never had to plan past a few hours either.”
“So everything’s brand-new with us,” he said, husky and low.
“Fresh as spring.” She gave her head a little shake. “I don’t actually believe it.”
He smiled, imminently comfortable now with the wisdom of his choice. “Maybe I can show you—make you a believer.”
“Or I’ll show you,” she said with a grin.
He laughed. “Be my guest. I’m easy.” If she was talking about sex though, he guessed his skill set was more varied and sophisticated than hers. Not that he was questioning her expertise, but few people were introduced to the flesh markets of the world at fifteen as he’d been by a father whose taste for vice was notorious.
“What?”
“I was trying to decide to what degree sex enters this new emotional world of ours.”
“You better be kidding.”
“Ah.”
“Damn right—ah.” Nicole slid her hands down his chest, brought her palms to rest on his fly. “Because I have plans and apparently you do too,” she said, smiling up at him as his erection swelled under her fingers.
“But not right this second,” he murmured, lifting her hands away and taking a step back. “I’m going to take a quick shower first. It won’t take me long. In the meantime,” he added, moving toward an intercom on the wall, “if you tell me what Fiona looks like, I’ll have someone bring her here and you two can coordinate your schedules.” He paused before striking the call button. “Although say the word and I’ll see that she has a companion with any title she wants.”
“Really? You can do that?”
“Absolutely. A lot of these aristocratic families are short of cash. I’m not. So she can put in her order.” When Nicole hesitated, he added, “Or if you prefer, she could come with us. We could sail somewhere—the Adriatic, the Greek islands. The weather’s nice this time of year and most businesses, ours included, are on semi-holiday.” Whatever she wanted she could have; whatever made her happy made him happy. The imaginary word, happy, come to life with her. Not that he was going to begin to parse the strange earnestness of his feelings; he preferred uncomplicated sex.
“Is that what you want to do?”
“I want to do whatever you want to do,” he replied politely, though he had an explicit personal agenda; he’d not developed into a paragon of beneficence regardless of the novel circumstances. “Our time is limited if you’re going back to school.” His gaze suddenly narrowed, a compelling urgency glittering in the golden depths of his eyes. “Tell me your name.”
“Nicole Parrish.”
He didn’t move for a fraction of a second, his brow furrowed. Then he took a breath and smiled the most beautiful smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Nicole Parrish. We’re going to have fun.”
“I know,” she said with a lavish grin. “I find you very attractive.”
He laughed. “And I find you,” he said, his voice taking on a husky resonance, “my reward for ignoring every cautionary precept in my life.” His gaze shuttered slightly as he contemplated her. “I’m both disturbed and obsessed, but,” he added more softly, feeling an improbable pleasure, “I’m looking forward to my obsession.”
“Is this where I say I’ll be gentle and not take advantage of you?”
“God no.” His smile was sunny. “By all means take advantage of me.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she teased.
She was too tempting, he thought, as she stood before him, barely clothed, confident and assured, aware of her extravagant beauty, and for a moment, his gaze cooled.
She could see that he was uncomfortable; too many compliant women had left him unequipped to deal with her directness. “Forgive me. I only meant it in fun. If you like, I promise not to be demanding.”
Her astonishing offer made him smile. “You couldn’t do it.”
The light of mischief shone in her eyes. “For you, I’d really try.”
“You’ll have to show me then,” he said circumspect and polite, as if she’d offered him some superficial kindness.
“My pleasure.”
Rafe smiled. “I know,” he said cryptically. “Now—give me a description and we’ll get Fiona up here.”