Daisy was finding his protective streak rather endearing. Underneath that suave and sophisticated über-modern exterior he was as old-fashioned as her father. Which was why she wanted him to be the one to make love to her for the first time. He ticked all the boxes for a holiday fling. He was gorgeous and fun-loving. He was respectably dissolute—a bad boy from a good family. He wouldn’t make demands on her past the time frame of their fling. Who could be better to give her the experience she longed for than a man who was a professional playboy? It wasn’t as if she was in any danger of falling in love with him. He was the total opposite of what she wanted in a long-term partner.
Besides, Belinda was always ragging her for not stepping outside her comfort zone. A red-hot fling with world champion polo player Luiz Valquez would win her some serious bragging rights.
Not to mention she was seriously attracted to him.
Daisy smiled up at him. ‘So you’ll do it?’
He was glowering as if she’d asked him to skin a spider before swallowing it. ‘Aren’t you being a little cold-blooded about this?’
‘What’s wrong? Surely you don’t expect me to wrap it up in flowery language? I bet you don’t when you select your next sleepover partner.’
He stalked to the other side of the room, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck as if he had a knot of tension bothering him. ‘This is crazy. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.’
‘Is it because I’m not a supermodel? I’ve heard you’re really picky over your partners.’
‘Not picky enough, it seems,’ he muttered not quite under his breath.
‘Yes, well, now that you mention it, you were the one who started this by approaching me in the nightclub,’ she said. ‘Who knows? If you hadn’t been so full of yourself I mightn’t have gone off with the Ealing guy and then none of this would have happened.’
His top lip curled. ‘Is that your version of logic? If so, it’s a little short of the mark.’
Daisy gave a small shrug. ‘I’m just saying…’
He came back over to her, standing right in front of her so she had to crane her neck to keep eye contact. His eyes moved between both of hers, back and forth, as if he were waiting for her to reveal some other motive other than pure unadulterated lust. After a moment he lifted his hand and stroked his fingertip across her jawline. His touch was mesmerising, light as air, and yet every nerve of hers twanged with awareness. ‘I should send you packing.’
‘That would be the sensible thing to do if I had indeed anything to pack before I left,’ Daisy said. ‘I don’t suppose visiting the Grand Canyon in a little black dress and heels is sensible either.’
His half smile made her stomach slip. So did his touch as he cupped her cheek in one of his broad hands. His thumb moved over her cheek in a stroking motion that was as hypnotic as his dark chocolate gaze. ‘No. It isn’t.’
Daisy looked at his mouth, wondering if he was going to kiss her again. Never had a kiss been so exciting. Every pore of her body had responded to him. It was as if he had turned a switch on inside her body. Her inner core pulsated with the need to feel his thick male presence—a real flesh and blood man, not a cold and clinical machine. She could feel the twitching of those delicate nerves in anticipation of his intimate invasion. ‘Maybe I should head back to my hotel and slip into something a little more touristy.’
‘You should.’