mouth was dry, the blood moving rapidly through her veins. ‘I’m not afraid of any man.’ She raised her eyebrows, her air of sophistication firmly back in place. ‘And I am not familiar with the hotel,’ she said sweetly. ‘I have only been here twice, and both times were a disaster. The first you dragged me into bed, and the second you drove me out.’ She managed to say it all with a light, even tone of voice, and she watched with interest as a red tide of colour ran up under his skin. ‘Or had you forgotten in the old days you had a preference for discreet little restaurants, as I suggested earlier?’
The lift came to a halt, and Amber had the distinct impression Lucas was relieved he did not have to respond. Stroke one up for her, she thought irreverently as she followed him down a short corridor, and brushed past the door he held open for her without a glance.
The elegant sitting room was exactly the same with its luxury fitted carpet and period furniture. The large patio doors leading out onto the terrace were wide open and she had a glimpse of a table set for two. Some of her hard-won sophistication evaporated as she recalled the only other time she had been in this suite. The first time they had made love.
She stared at the floor with unseeing eyes. She had been a virgin, and totally ignorant of the power of love. She had been shy at first but so desperately eager. She felt the colour rise in her cheeks at the memory. A few passionate kisses and he had carried her into the bedroom and she had let him strip her naked—helped him, in fact. Then he had told her to undress him, and she had fumblingly complied. With breathtaking expertise he had taken her to the heights of ecstasy over and over again, and from that night on she had been completely addicted to the man. She had been madly in love, and willingly she had followed where he’d led. With hindsight she realised she should have guessed then for Lucas it had only been sex. She felt a deep ache in the region of her heart, and gritted her teeth. She hadn’t expected the memory to hurt so much…
Lucas walked past her, discarding his jacket and tie on a low velvet-covered sofa, and headed straight for the drinks trolley. ‘What will you have?’ he asked, and only then did she lift her head and glance at him.
‘Nothing,’ she croaked. With his shirt half open and a tantalising glimpse of silky black chest hair exposed and his pleated trousers resting snugly on his slim hips, he looked exactly as he had all those years ago.
One ebony brow rose enquiringly. ‘You must, I insist.’
‘No, I’m driving later.’ She swallowed hard and looked away. ‘A fruit juice, maybe,’ she amended.
A moment later Lucas was handing her a glass of orange juice. She took it with a steady hand but made sure her fingers did not come into contact with his.
‘You look hot,’ he opined, his dark eyes searching on her flushed face. ‘Let me take your jacket.’
‘No, no.’ With a glass of juice in one hand and her briefcase in the other, there was no way she could remove it, and he certainly wasn’t going to. She had no faith in the fine silk of her blouse hiding her body’s reaction to his intimidating male presence.
‘Please yourself, but at least let me take this.’ And before she could react, his large hand prised her fingers from the death-like grip she had on her briefcase. ‘We are eating on the terrace. Are you sure I can’t persuade you out of your jacket? It is a warm night.’
Warm did not begin to describe how Amber was suddenly feeling and she almost fell over her feet to rush out onto the terrace, and take a great gulp of air.
A moment later Lucas followed her out with a glass of whisky in one hand, and, casting a sardonic glance at her stiff body standing by the balustrade, he pulled out a chair at the perfectly set table.
‘For heaven’s sake! Sit down and relax, Amber. I’m not about to jump you.’
‘I never thought you were,’ she responded with admirable poise and took the seat he offered.
Surprisingly Amber enjoyed the meal, probably because she had hardly eaten any lunch, but also because Lucas was at his charming best. Not a hint of innuendo, or mention of the past. The conversation was topical; some politics, the latest show to open in the West End, which Amber had seen, Lucas had not.
‘I didn’t know you liked the theatre,’ Lucas remarked. ‘I never thought to take you when we were together.’
Sitting back in her chair, sipping at a cup of black coffee, Amber almost choked. He was back to personal and she did not like it. ‘You never took me anywhere,’ she said flatly, draining her cup.
‘You’re right. Except to bed, of course, as I recall we had the greatest difficulty leaving the bedroom.’
Hot colour flooded her face but Amber wasn’t touching that one with a bargepole. ‘Shall we stick to business? I meant what I said earlier—whatever Spiro has left me, you can have. I know the will must have been an oversight on his part, or laziness. Either way you are the rightful heir. I don’t see any problem.’
‘Even if I believed your offer, there are several huge obstacles,’ Lucas intoned cynically. ‘Never mind the death duty, which will be quite substantial, his medical bills are enormous.’
‘Did he die of Aids?’ Amber asked, but she’d already guessed the answer.
‘Of course, after a protracted illness,’ Lucas stated flatly. ‘I gather you have not had much contact with Spiro.’
‘I hadn’t spoken to him in four years,’ she said, nervously fingering the waist button on her jacket and slipping it open. She felt terribly guilty, though she knew deep down it wasn’t rational. Spiro had been a law unto himself.
‘Okay. In that case I’d better fill you in.’
For a brief second she imagined his long body, naked, literally doing just that, and to her horror her own body betrayed her, a wave of heat washing over the surface of her skin, her breasts swelling against the constraint of her bra. Thankfully Lucas did not seem to be aware of the effect his simple statement had aroused.
‘Well, you know Spiro,’ Lucas prompted, exasperation lacing his tone. ‘From taking control of his inheritance, he spent money like a madman. He bought most of the pictures in his art gallery from the artists himself. “Friends”, he called them. For the last few years he has hired a house on Fire Island every summer, apparently a very popular place with the gay community, and he always took a crowd of pals along to share it with him. He sold off twenty per cent of his share of Karadines without my knowledge. I don’t think he did it deliberately to harm the company, but it didn’t help. He needed money fast and a friend fixed it for him.’
‘How so Spiro,’ Amber groaned with feeling. ‘Even in death he caused chaos.’
‘You knew him well,’ Lucas commented dryly. ‘But settling up after my father and Christina has left me with a bit of a cash-flow problem. I haven’t got the capital to buy Spiro’s shares at the moment—but if I don’t own them, the company will be very vulnerable to predators.’
And he should know, Amber silently concluded. Lucas was the biggest predator she knew. She glanced across at him, her golden eyes narrowing shrewdly on his darkly attractive face. That was it! Amber saw the flaw in his argument. Lucas should know the solution. He had a brilliant brain and was a sharp operator of worldwide renown. He was also wickedly sexy with his shirt unbuttoned, came the unbidden thought. Stop it, Amber. Concentrate, she told herself firmly. Lucas was up to something, but what?
