Seduced By The British Billionaire(5)
Uneasiness settled over her when she debated sipping from that sweet scarlet pool. She was an extreme lightweight. What if she drank too much? It wasn’t as if she drank often. But it sat there before her enticingly. What did she have to lose? This handsome rich ex-soldier was encouraging her to indulge in some wine.
Sasha’s voice echoed in her head. Do something crazy for once. Geez Amber. Live a little. Go have a good time. That was the problem. Amber never managed to do anything out of the ordinary. Her life lacked flair and adventure. Perhaps now was the time to let go. In all her twenty-seven years of age, she had never simply gone with moment. Everything was preplanned the way she wanted things to go.
Time for a change, she resolved, envisioning the hunk of a man before her in a new light. Reaching forward confidently, she downed the glass of wine before her quite rapidly.
He merely stared at her out of shock, almost laughing to himself at her boldness. “Do you want more,” he offered, holding out the bottle to pour her a new glass.
“Please,” she held out her glass, “I want more.” And when she said more, the wine wasn’t what she was talking about. She wanted him, just a taste of him. But it wasn’t going to happen sober.
Chapter2
Amber stood in front of her apartment and stared at the sexy male before her. God, he was too much: from his powerful stance, to the extraordinarily erotic way he talked. His biceps bulged beneath his brand name black polo making her body burn with an irresistible need. How she wished she could just have a piece of that ass.
Apparently, the buzz she was going for in the restaurant had kicked in perfectly. Her voice slurred just a little as she invited him inside. “Would you like to come in?” She asked rather surely. It felt great not caring about anything. “I could make you some tea.” She mused, remembering how he told her he was from Britain. It made for a good excuse.
Charles had so kindly driven her home in his fancy sports car. The ride was incredible, especially high off the red wine from only half an hour ago. But he was a crazy driver, shifting gears like it was nobody’s business. The only problem was…he was sober. This put a damper on things.
He hesitated. “You’re not drunk are you?” He questioned her sincerely, studying her long and hard.
She shook her head. That she wasn’t. “I’m just very buzzed.” She grinned, giggling a little. “I promise I’ll remember everything.”
He frowned. “I don’t know if I should.” He scratched his head.
She laughed then, clearly not giving a shit about any of that. “I think that is my decision to make whether I’m comfortable letting you inside or not.” She teased, fumbling in her purse for the key to her place.
Her apartment stood up a few floors in the building. It was rather calm. Most everyone kept to themselves, except for the crazy lady across the hall who liked to complain about every little thing. She had the paramedics over three times that year because she felt faint. It was all a show. All the tenants knew she was old and wanted attention.
He gave in. “Fine,” he accepted graciously. “I’ll take that cup of tea.”
Her insides did a little victory dance as her fingers landed on the key in the abyss of her purse. She shoved them in the lock and stepped inside. Charles promptly followed her inside.
The scent of warm vanilla and cookies wafted the quaint little apartment. It was her favorite smell. A small hallway made its way over to the tiny kitchen, which in turn faced the cozy living room. Everything was neat in its place, from the floral plates to the antique cookie jar near the stove.
“Have a seat.” Amber gestured to the fluffy couch overflowing with pillows. She hurriedly began busying herself in the kitchen.
“Do you paint?” Charles wondered aloud, striding over to the easel that faced closed green curtains. His hand stroked the otherwise smooth jawline, knitting his brows fervently.
She smiled. “I dabble,” Then she giggled at the word she so often liked to use. “Why?”
“Wow,” his fingers traced the neat lines of something she had begun to work on. “This is exquisite.” The way she was able to capture each line of detail betrayed a hidden passion on the small canvas.
There were grey waters that seemed to roil against a ship lost at sea. Atop a grey barren rock sat a mermaid, her hands longingly outstretched towards a world she may never know. Rain pattered against her face and blew her hair wilder than the sea itself. She was bare and naked, with luscious breasts embellishing angelic white skin. A picture could say more than a thousand words it seemed.