her eyes. ‘I did warn you, Kate. Travelling abroad with Daze means excess baggage in the shape of a big hairy scary guy carrying a concealed weapon. Get used to it. It ain’t going to change any time soon.’
‘Oh, yes it is.’ Daisy set her posture in a determined line. ‘I’m sick of being treated like a little kid. I’m plenty old enough to take care of myself. And this holiday is the perfect chance to prove it.’
Once and for all.
Her father would have to get over it. She wanted to live her life the way she wanted to live it. Not be answerable to her dad, who thought she was still twelve years old.
‘Why’s your dad so protective anyway?’ Kate asked.
Daisy took a sip of her drink before she answered. She hadn’t told anyone of her father’s former and thankfully brief connection with the underworld. It was far easier to pretend he was overly protective because she once went missing for half an hour as a child. That her disappearance had been nothing more than a case of her hiding from her mother behind a rack of dresses in Marks and Spencer was beside the point. ‘My dad watches too many scary movies. He thinks as soon as I step foot in a foreign country someone is going to kidnap me and demand a ransom.’
Kate raised her brows. ‘I realised you came from money but—’
‘Pots and pots of money.’ Belinda held her glass out for a refill. ‘You should see her dad’s estate in Surrey. Massive. He has villas in Italy and the South of France too. I didn’t realise being an accountant could be so lucrative. Maybe I should’ve done that instead of teaching.’
Daisy chewed the edge of her lower lip. She had always believed her father’s wealth was gained through hard work and discipline, building up his London accounting firm from scratch. She still believed it…sort of. How could she believe anything else? He was a loving dad who consecrated the ground she walked on. So what if he had once done a teensy weensy accounting job for a Mafia boss? That didn’t make him a criminal. He had assured her it had been years and years ago and there was no reason to be worried now, although why he insisted she have top level security at her flat and always travel abroad with a bodyguard did make her feel a smidgeon of disquiet if she were to be perfectly honest. But that was something she had always put up with because it was easier than arguing with him about it. Arguing with her father was an exhausting and pointless exercise, which her mother, Rose, had found out the hard way when she’d tried to divorce him.
‘If you’ve got so much family money why bother teaching?’ Kate asked.
‘I love teaching,’ Daisy said, thinking of her kindergarten class with their sunny and earnest little faces. ‘The kids are so innocent and—’
Belinda gave a half snort, half laugh as she wiped up a dribble of bubbles off the side of her glass with her fingertip. ‘Yeah, like you.’
Daisy sent her a mock glower. ‘Just because I’m technically still a virgin doesn’t mean—’
‘Technically?’ Kate frowned in puzzlement. ‘What? You mean you haven’t actually slept with a guy?’
Here we go, Daisy silently groaned. Why was being a virgin such an oddity these days? Plenty of girls didn’t sleep around. What about Amish girls? Or girls from other religious persuasions? Nuns, for instance. Anyway, having an overprotective father was like being raised in a convent. He’d practically strip-searched every suitor she’d ever had. He did background checks on them too. It was beyond embarrassing. Which was how she had ended up twenty-six years old without having done the deed.
But this holiday was going to change all that. Or so she hoped. Away from her father’s watchful eye, she would be able to stretch her dating wings. Flirt a little. Relax instead of being uptight about the whole process in case her father suddenly appeared, waving a warrant for her date’s arrest.
‘Not yet,’ Daisy said. ‘But I’m not going to do it just for the sake of it. I want it to mean something. I want it to mean something for the guy too.’
‘I hate to be the one to tell you this but you’re unlikely to find your soulmate in Vegas,’ Kate said.
‘Don’t feel too sorry for her,’ Belinda said with a naughty grin. ‘Our Daze has a toy. I gave it to her when we did Secret Santa with the staff at school last year. Didn’t I, Daze?’
Daisy laughed it off but she hated that she still blushed over that wretched sex toy. She’d only taken it out of the box a few times… OK, well, maybe more than a few times. Truth be told, she hadn’t put it back in the box. It was currently in her make-up bag in her hotel room because she hadn’t wanted her new nosy flatmate to find it in her bedside drawer while she was away. Anyway, it had an absolutely brilliant massage attachment that was really handy when her neck or shoulders got tense.
‘Hey, check out two o’clock.’ Belinda jerked her head towards the right hand end of the bar. ‘The guy standing next to the girl in the dress that looks like aluminium foil. Do you know who it is?’
Daisy studied the tall black-haired man leaning indolently against the bar as he chatted to a young woman dressed in a tight sheath of a shimmering dress that clung to every curve of her supermodel-perfect body. The man’s open-necked shirt was startlingly white against his deep tan and his eyes were so dark they looked as black as molasses. His hair was long enough to curl against his collar and was tousled, as if he’d not long tumbled out of bed or run his hands through it, or both. His mouth was nothing short of mesmerising. A sculptured sensual curve surrounded by a day or two of dense black stubble, the top lip curved upwards in a smile that looked more cynical than amused, and a bottom lip that hinted at a dangerously healthy sexual appetite. In spite of the heat in the crowded nightclub Daisy felt an involuntary shiver run over her flesh. ‘No, who is it?’
‘Luiz Valquez,’ Belinda said. ‘He’s a famous Argentinian champion polo player. He’s nicknamed in the press as the king of one-night stands. There’s not a playboy out there who can change partners as fast as he does. He’s practically turned it into a sport. Talk about smoking-hot.’
Hot wasn’t even close, Daisy thought. She hadn’t seen a man who looked anywhere near as heart-stoppingly handsome as him. He looked like one of those male magazine models, the ones who advertised designer eyewear or expensive aftershave. Oozing testosterone and sex appeal. Simmering with sensual energy that radiated out from him in soundless waves. She couldn’t seem to drag her gaze back to her friends. It was glued to the man as if invisible wires had tethered her eyeballs. There was something about him that was so…hypnotic. Captivating. It wasn’t just his staggeringly gorgeous good looks. There was something about his aura of supreme confidence she found intensely intriguing. She could see it in the arrogant tilt of his head, the hawk-like blade of his nose, the sharply intelligent gaze. It was as if he knew he was in command of the room and was biding his time to demonstrate it.
‘Stop drooling, Daze,’ Belinda said. ‘He doesn’t associate with mere mortals like us. He only ever dates supermodels or Hollywood starlets.’
Daisy was about to look away when he suddenly turned his head and his dark-as-night eyes met hers across the crowded nightclub. An electric jolt shot through her as his black brows lifted in blatant male appraisal. A hot spurting sensation arrowed between her legs and she almost fell off the bar stool she was perched on. She quickly crossed her legs but his gaze followed her right thigh as it hooked over her left one. Then his gaze came up ever so lazily the whole length of her body from ankle to hip, from her waist to her breasts, stalled there for a pulse-thundering pause, before coming up to her mouth.
