Socialite's Gamble(14)

His eyes bored into hers, his breathing just as uneven as her own. She stared at the buttons on his shirt, his impressive chest that moved up and down like bellows as he attempted to contain his breathing.

‘Meet me later. After the game.’

It wasn’t a request, but a command. Rough. Forceful. Exciting beyond measure.

Cara couldn’t look away from the burning hunger in his gaze, her blood as thick as treacle as it flowed through her veins. All she wanted to do was lean into him, assuage the hollow ache deep in her body. She’d never had such a visceral reaction to a man before and her mind recoiled from it as much as it craved it.

Her lips buzzed and even though her mind kept telling her that it was wrong, that she should show caution, that she would only get hurt, she took a deep breath and said the only thing that she could.

‘Yes.’





CHAPTER FOUR


HAD HE REALLY asked Cara Chatsfield to meet him after the game?

Aidan couldn’t quite believe it. But there was no doubt that the blood still hummed through his veins and once again he had to force his mind away from that kiss and back to the whole purpose of his being here.

Kissing her had been a spur-of-the-moment thing and he just didn’t do those. Everything in his life was planned out to the nth degree. His housekeeper often teased him about it, but secretly he knew she loved how orderly his life ran. ‘Like clockwork,’ she’d chortled more than once.

Yes, like clockwork. Just the way he liked it. He liked knowing that there were no nasty surprises around the corner. Nothing that would throw him off track. And why was he thinking about such things right now? Now when he needed his mind razor sharp and focused.

And okay, he found Cara Chatsfield attractive, but so what? He’d found women attractive before and never been controlled by his libido like that. So she smelled pretty and she had a small brown mole beside her right ear. Really what she was was a piece of fluff.

And no matter how beautiful the package he wasn’t a man who would ever be interested in someone who was fundamentally untrustworthy. Even short term.

Cara Chatsfield was too young, too wilful and most likely too shallow. What was annoying to him—no, what was appalling—was that given all that he knew of her reputation he also knew that he would still meet up with her later on. Still take her to his bed. For some reason she … Fascinated was the wrong word, but he couldn’t think of what the right one was to describe how he felt about her.

Basically, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Like now. She was talking to one of the bartenders across the room. Annoyingly she had barely come close to the main table since their run-in out on the balcony. And what a thing to call it. He could have laughed. He’d followed her out, come over all superior about Ellery and ended up pressing her into the wall and losing his head. Nearly losing his head, he amended.

He recalled the way Ellery had been holding her when he’d stepped through the terrace doors. Cara’s brief look of relief. She’d said they weren’t lovers and that she wasn’t interested in Ellery but why hadn’t she slapped the other man’s face? And why even think about that? Her response was her own business, not his. The fact was, he wasn’t her keeper and she and Ellery weren’t lovers. He didn’t need to know anything else about her to enjoy the promise of those feminine curves. And nor did he want to. Pleasure was all this was about.

Abject pleasure.

And maybe he’d organise a late supper for them both back in his room, have a drink together and then … then they’d have sex. It would be great if that kiss was any indication and then … then he’d wake up tomorrow, fly to the conference his company had organised in Fiji and that would be the end of the delectable Miss Chatsfield.

The back of his neck ached and he heard it crick as he eased his shoulders. The barman she was talking to was about her age. They’d probably watched the same kids’ programs.

Kids’ programs?

Hell of a way to win a poker game, Kelly, he admonished himself. Real sharp.

His eyes cut across the table to Ellery, who was straightening one of the few remaining towers of chips he had left. This was why Aidan was here. This man. Or more specifically, to ruin this man, and if that somehow brought a sour taste to his mouth, then … who cared? He’d made a promise to his dying father that he would destroy Ellery, and Aidan always kept a promise. The fact that his father hadn’t requested the promise just showed Aidan how damaged he had been by Ellery’s deceit because, really, his father should have gone after the man himself for what he’d done to him. Instead he’d bailed out on life.