“Thank you,” she said, so softly he almost couldn’t hear her over the noise around them. “I could do with a dose of anything right now.”
She draped her arms over his shoulders, the fingers of one hand playing with his hair where it sat at the nape of his neck. Her touch did crazy things to him. Things that made him want to do nothing more than take her out of here and transport her to his home, his bed.
Nate wasn’t into one-night stands. Aside from the fact his mother had drilled respect for women into him from an early age, he’d never been that kind of guy. Nate liked to plan, to calculate all the angles—spontaneity wasn’t really his strong suit, especially in his private life. He knew how important it was to be cautious, to keep people at a distance until you were sure of their motives. But there was something about the girl in his arms that made him want to take a chance.
He looked down into her face and recognition began to dawn. Suddenly he knew why she’d seemed familiar. She was Nicole Wilson—none other than Charles Wilson’s daughter, and the second in command at Wilson Wines. Her picture had been in the dossier of information he’d asked Raoul to gather on the competition’s business—and most especially on the man who had once been his father, Thomas’s, closest and oldest friend. Charles Wilson, who had—after an angry row, rife with false accusations—subsequently become Thomas’s bitterest rival.
Once, when he’d been a turbulent teen, Nate had promised his father he’d seek revenge for what Charles Wilson had done. Thomas, ever the peacemaker, had told him he was to do no such thing while Thomas still drew breath. Sadly now, his father was dead—not so sadly, all bets, in relation to Charles Wilson, were off.
Nate wasn’t normally one to deliver on the sins of the father, but tonight’s potential now took on a whole other edge. He’d been biding his time with Charles Wilson. Accumulating information, and planning his strategy carefully. But even if it hadn’t been part of his plans, he wasn’t about to ignore the opportunity that had just dropped into his arms.
A waft of Nicole’s fragrance drifted off her heated body and teased his nose. The scent was rich and spicy, very much, he suspected, like the woman he held—their bodies moving in unison, undulating to the beat of the music that thrummed around them.
Nate didn’t hide the arousal he felt for her. What was the point? If this didn’t work out, then there’d be no foul. His plans would carry on regardless. But if it did, if she was responding to him the same way he reacted to her, his plans for revenge against Charles Wilson would take a very interesting turn indeed.
Nicole knew she’d had too much to drink tonight, and she knew full well that she should call another taxi to take her home. After all, it was only Thursday and she still had work tomorrow. At least, she thought she still had work tomorrow.
Thinking about work made her head hurt and the idea of returning to the house tonight just tied her stomach in knots and reminded her again of her father’s low opinion of her. Earlier, she’d blocked out that reminder with a shot, and then another, egged on by a group of acquaintances she’d barely seen since she’d graduated from university and whom she could hardly call friends. Still, their lively and undemanding company tonight had been just what she sought. No questions, no answers. Just being lost in the moment. And right at this moment she was feeling very lost indeed. Lost in the undeniable attraction between two healthy young people in their prime.
Very little separated her and her dance partner and as her lower body brushed against him again, a classic Mae West line ran through her alcohol-clouded mind. She couldn’t stifle the giggle that bubbled up from inside.
“Care to share the joke?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. There was no way she was sharing that little snippet.
“Then you have to pay a forfeit—you know that, don’t you?”
“A forfeit?” she asked, her lips spreading into a smile once more. “Surely you can’t punish a girl for being happy?”
“I wasn’t thinking of a punishment,” he said.
She should be laughing at the line he’d just uttered, she told herself, yet, for some reason, a wicked coil of lust tightened inside her.
“Oh?” she managed through lips that she suddenly felt the urge to moisten with the tip of her tongue. “What were you thinking of?”
“This,” he said.
She didn’t have time to think, or room to move had she even wanted to dodge him, as he lowered his lips to hers. Lips that were unexpectedly cool and firm. Lips that sampled, tasted and teased her own.
The tight sensation inside her spread, tingling through her body like a slow-building charge of electricity, sensitizing her hidden places, draining her mind of any awareness of her surroundings. All she could think of, all she wanted to think of, was the touch of his mouth on hers. Of the delicious pressure of his body as his hands on her hips gathered her closer.
They continued to move to the music—her pelvis rolling against his, her awareness of his arousal becoming a hunger for more than the illicit touch of bodies through clothing. A moan built deep in her throat, a moan she fought to keep inside as he lifted his mouth from hers.
She swallowed and opened her eyes. In this light it was difficult to tell what color his eyes were, but they were definitely unusual and their hooded stare captured her and held her mesmerized. Didn’t certain beasts of prey do the same? Was she about to be devoured? The thought didn’t upset her as much as it should. God, she had to pull herself together.
“So, that’s a forfeit, huh?” she asked, her voice thick with desire.
“It’s just one of many.”
“Intriguing.”
Intriguing wasn’t the word. His kiss had totally fried her synapses. It was all she could do to prevent herself from dragging his face down to hers again and repeating the experience. Once more with feeling, she thought, although she certainly hadn’t been devoid of feeling while he’d been kissing her. For that moment in time she’d forgotten everything. Who she was, why she was here, what she had left to look forward to.
She’d liked that. She’d liked it a whole lot. She wanted to do it again.
“Hey, Nic!”
One of her acquaintances, Amy, appeared at her side and her dance partner released her. She instantly rued the loss of contact.
Her friend shouted to be heard over the music. “We’re off to another club, you coming?”
Nicole’s usual prudence screamed “safety in numbers” at the back of her mind, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood to be prudent at all.
“No, I’m fine. I’ll get a taxi home later.”
“Okay. Hey, it was cool catching up again. Let’s not leave it so long next time.”
And then Amy was gone with the crowd she’d been hanging with.
“Are you sure you didn’t want to go with your friends?” her dance partner asked.
“No, I’m fine. I’m a
