The Ultimate Playboy(36)
‘I only want you to hear me out. You said we’d talk this morning.’
He got up from the bed in a sleek, graceful move that brought to mind a jungle creature.
The unmistakable evidence of his arousal when he faced her made her swallow. He showed no embarrassment in his blatant display of manhood. Even in thwarted desire, Narciso Valentino wore his male confidence with envy-inducing ease. Whereas she remained cowering beneath the sheets, afraid of the sensual waves threatening to drown her.
‘And so we will. Come through to the kitchen. Caffeine is a poor substitute for sex but it’ll have to do.’ With that pithy pronouncement, he walked out of the bedroom.
She lay there, floundering in a sea of panic and confusion. If anyone had told her she’d be in Narciso Valentino’s bed mere hours after meeting him, she’d have laughed herself hoarse. Particularly since she’d vowed never to mix business with pleasure after what had happened with Simon.
But what Narciso had roused in her just now had frightened and excited her. Kissing him had been holding a live, dangerous firework in the palm of her hand. She hadn’t been sure whether she would experience the most spectacular show of lights or blow herself to smithereens with it.
And yet she’d been almost desolate when the kiss ended. Which showed how badly things could get out of hand.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she counted to ten. The earlier she finished her business with Narciso and got on the plane back to New York, the better.
Throwing off the sheet, she glanced at the velvet rope around her ankle. Twisting her body into the appropriate position, she tugged on the double knot, surprised when it came loose easily.
Again, the realisation that she could’ve freed herself at any time made her view of him alter a little. Her fingers lingered on the rope warmed from her body.
Bondage sex. Until now, the scenario had never even crossed her mind. But suddenly, the thought of being tied down while Narciso laid her inhibitions to waste took up centre stage in her mind.
Heat flaming her whole body, she jumped from the bed. Upright, his T-shirt reached well past her knees, and covered her arms to her elbows.
She glanced at her gown, laid carefully over the arm of the chaise longue, and made up her mind. She would dress after they’d had their talk. She couldn’t bear being restrained in the too-tight dress just yet. Ditto for her heels.
Stilettos and a T-shirt in the presence of a dangerously sexual man like Narciso Valentino evoked an image she didn’t want to tempt into life now, or ever.
For some reason, her body turned him on. She wasn’t stupid enough to bait the lion more than he was already baited.
Barefoot, she left the bedroom and went in search of the kitchen.
He stood at a centre island in a kitchen that made the chef in her want to weep with envy. State-of-the-art equipment lined the surfaces and walls and through a short alcove a floor-to-ceiling wine rack displayed exquisite vintages.
‘You get all this for a two-day stay?’
He jerked at her question. Before he could cover his emotions, Ruby glimpsed a painfully bleak look in his eyes.
A second later, the look was gone as he shrugged. ‘It suits my needs.’
‘Your needs... I’d kill for a kitchen like this in my restaurant.’