splashed around the edge of the petals. A similar but much smaller flower featured over her right breast. A wide black belt circled an enticingly small waist, and very stylish black-and-white strappy sandals added a lot of sexy class to her bare feet.
Only a very confident woman would choose such a dress—a woman who knew what she liked and was not afraid to express her own individuality. And she obviously didn’t bother about being model-thin, either. Bold, confident and very sexy, Damien decided, feeling a highly stimulated interest.
Peter Ramsey’s sister…
The thought flashed into Damien’s mind that the partner in life he’d been looking for could be right here. She shared the same background of immense wealth, so wouldn’t have her eye on how much he was worth. He could trust a relationship with her. Though whether she was ready to settle down and have the family he wanted was another issue. For all he knew she could be a spoilt brat, like many of the other heiresses he’d met.
But right now, there was a buzz of excited anticipation running through his veins. If Charlotte Ramsey was anything like Peter in character, this visit to Sydney could be the start of building the kind of life he’d craved since he was a boy—something real ad solid and lasting on a personal level.
Charlotte leaned up to whisper in her father’s ear. “I need to talk to you privately. It’s important, Dad,” she pleaded.
He frowned down at her as she drew back, her eyes eloquently begging him to fall in with her request. “Come and meet Peter’s friend first,” he commanded, a chiding tone in his voice.
“Of course,” she quickly agreed, swinging around to face their visitor, totally unprepared for the flesh and blood reality of Damien Wynter.
He didn’t look English. He didn’t look like anyone she’d ever met. The man was stunningly handsome—movie star handsome—like a smoothly dangerous Latin lover, an aristocratic Spaniard with his dark olive skin, black hair and eyes so dark, they looked black, too—black and brilliant with sparkling speculation as they bored straight into hers, giving her heart an almighty jolt.
Her toes started to curl. The man was sexual dynamite. He was as tall as Peter but there was more of a lean grace to his perfectly proportioned physique, which was casually displayed in a collarless white shirt and tailored black jeans. There was a supple, animal quality about his body that gave Charlotte the feeling he was all primed to pounce and right at this moment, she was his target.
Her spine tingled with a weird little frisson of excitement. Shock at her response to his sexual magnetism kicked her mind into savage common sense. Damien Wynter was the kind of man who would make any woman feel like this. It wasn’t special to her. But for one treacherous moment, she wished Mark had the same power.
Her father’s large hand on the pit of her back, pushing her forward to greet their guest, snapped her out of her stunned bunny state. She plastered a smile on her face, hoping it covered her embarrassment at being caught up in his initial physical impact. Looks weren’t everything, not by a long shot.
“Damien, it’s my very great pleasure to introduce you to my daughter, Charlotte,” her father said with far more warmth than he’d ever shown to Mark.
Which raised her hackles.
“It’s a very great pleasure to meet you, Charlotte,” the man responded in kind, stepping forward and offering his hand.
She took it out of automatic politeness and was shocked anew by the electric contact of his strong fingers encasing hers. It rattled her into gushing speech. “Peter has spoken of you. I’m sure he’ll see you enjoy your visit to Australia.”
The dark eyes engaged hers with very personal intensity. Heart-squeezing intensity. “I’m glad I came.”
For you.
He didn’t say those words but she felt them. And the pressure of his hand reinforced the totally unwelcome connection he was pushing.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat but I’m really short of time and I’ve got some urgent business with Dad,” she rushed out, forcibly releasing her hand as she turned to her father. “Could we go to the library?”
Her father waved to Charles who had brought in the traymobile. “Can’t it wait until we’ve had coffee?”
“Please, Dad. I’ve come all the way out here and I’ve got to get back…”
“All right, all right,” he grumbled. “I’ll be back,” he threw at Peter and Damien.
“Please excuse us,” Charlotte added with a swift, apologetic glance at both men, not quite meeting the dark gaze, which she felt boring into her back as she made her escape.
Damien Wynter was undoubtedly a well-practised womaniser, she fiercely told herself.
Not worth a second thought.
Damien watched her go, his mind buzzing with exciting possibilities.
“She’s taken,” Peter said dryly.
It snapped Damien’s attention back to him. “What do you mean…taken?”
“Getting married. The wedding is only two weeks away.”
Shock was chased by a sense of disbelief. He hadn’t imagined it. Charlotte Ramsey had connected with him. She shouldn’t be taken by some other man. He shot a probing look at Peter. “Do you like her fiancé?”
The roll of eyes expressed contempt. “He’s a smarmy fortune-hunter, but no one can make Charlotte see it.”
Aggression pumped through Damien. One way or another he’d make her see it. “Will they be at the party on the yacht tonight?” he asked.
Peter gave him a speculative look, then shook his head. “They’ll be there but you don’t know Charlotte, Damien. She’s got her mind set on marrying Mark Freedman and believe me, my sister is very, very strong-minded. Rocking the boat is not on, my friend.”
Rock it he would if he could, was Damien’s instant reaction, but he shrugged and turned the conversation to another topic, choosing not to pursue his interest in Peter’s sister too openly at this point.
Tonight he intended to know much more of Charlotte Ramsey and if he liked what he learnt, nothing was going to stop him from acting on his interest.
“So what’s this urgent business?” her father growled as he shut the library door behind them. “You were downright rude to Damien Wynter, giving him short shrift like that.”
The criticism stung, especially when the approval he’d denied Mark had been so quickly given to Peter’s friend. Her carefully rehearsed words flew out of her mind. She turned on him, hot accusation leaping off her tongue. “Not as rude as you were to Mark on Christmas day, snubbing him when he was only trying to…”
“He was sucking up to me,” her father cut in angrily. “I hate people sucking up to me. Damn it, Charlotte! Couldn’t you see that for yourself?” He threw up his hands in disgust. “When are you going to come to your senses? Damien Wynter is the kind of man you should be marrying and you don’t even give him two cents of your time.”
Resentment burned through
