feel heady, like I’m on a date.
As I catch sight of Darnley my heart gives a thump. He’s at the far side of the room talking with a small knot of business people. He looks handsome and distinguished in a dark suit. Cliff Face hovers nearby and I notice a few more of the stony-faced henchmen, formally dressed now and kind of blending into the crowd, their watchful expressions giving nothing away.
I can only hope they’re having fun.
The next instant Darnley looks up and sees me, sweeping me with a look that shifts the ground under my feet. Heat flares through me in a flame of arousal so acute I feel almost weak. How exciting must it be to actually date someone like this? Maybe I should have called that number after all …
But as I walk across the room to greet him I pull myself together. Everything about him warns me this man is dangerous. Something tells me he doesn’t date Miss Normal from New England without good reason, and the odd, slanted questions he fired off at me this afternoon mask some kind of problem.
He watches me draw near, once more unnaturally still. ‘Ella.’
The sensual lilt he gives to my name sends a thrill through me. The intensity of his look paints colour in my cheeks.
We find a quiet table in an alcove and toy with our drinks until the waiter leaves us in peace. I’m foolishly asking Darnley whether he’s here for business or fun – forgetting his company’s hosting some function soon so obviously he’d be here – when all at once he reaches out and runs a finger along my wrist bone.
I halt mid-sentence.
‘Your wrist is very slender.’ He’s gazing at it, his expression rapt, his attention suspended. I hold very still as he takes my hand, turns it over in both his own, slides his fingertips over my wrist and circles it with his thumb and forefinger. His touch is doing strange things to me.
The feel of his hand holding me like this is exciting but oddly his touch is not close. It’s like he’s measuring me. What’s so interesting about wrists? Is he making up his mind to say something else?
‘It was a shock, seeing you again.’ His murmur is so low I barely hear it. He might be talking to himself.
His attention is still focused on my wrist and for a few seconds he circles it with his finger and thumb. They curl round it easily, meeting to complete the circle on the soft, sensitive place at the inside where my pulse is now in overdrive.
There’s something very intense, disturbing even, about his stillness as he does this. I hardly dare breathe. At the same time I’m keenly aware that we’re in a public place, surrounded by smiling, elegant people, but for some reason I don’t understand this is a sudden and very private moment between us.
When he lifts his eyes to mine I see a brief gleam in them that fades quickly into a polite smile.
‘You were saying?’
I take a deep breath. Do I care why he’s here? The main thing is he is. And Ryan may get here any moment and then all hope of saying anything personal will be lost for ever. ‘I may have given you the wrong impression the first time we met. I’m not really the person you think I am.’
Darnley’s smile twists instantly in a sardonic gleam. ‘You thought I hadn’t guessed?’
‘I just thought you should know,’ I backtrack, stiff and a tad offended.
I expected – what? Surprise? Disappointment? His open, forceful sneer is a shock.
His anger practically flows over me in a wave of heat. I flounder, stunned as much by his sudden change of mood as by his low tone, now hard-edged and bitter.
The flash in his eyes punctures the illusion that this was a romantic moment. ‘I guessed soon after. I can’t say I’m surprised. Oldest trick in the book.’
How cruel. A stinging feeling prickles behind my eyes. I fight it back and hold my ground. ‘Yes, well, I just thought you should know. And for the record I really enjoyed it. I guess you should know that too.’
His eyes snap in disbelief. ‘You enjoyed it? So that makes it OK, does it?’
I swallow, bewildered at his cruelty but determined to finish. ‘It was – the most thrilling night of my life.’
His grin turns into amazed disbelief. ‘Thrilling? So how do you plan to top it? Raid Fort Knox?’
I frown. ‘Wait – what are we talking about here?’
His eyes burn into mine as he leans forward and lowers his voice. ‘Hey, that’s a good question. What are you talking about?’
I colour and look away.
His low murmur etches into me like acid. ‘Ah, yes, the honey-trap. That’s what made me smell a rat. I’m talking about you and your former boyfriend defrauding me of five million dollars.’
There’s an explosion between us as my glass shatters on the rim of the table and sprays vodka martini everywhere.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later we’re alone in his suite. Attentive waiters and offers of medical help have all been impatiently waved away. On the way up here shock dried the roof of my mouth and kept my blank gaze fixed on his face. Now feeling’s flooding back and I want answers.
‘Just tell me what’s going on, Darnley, please. And start at the beginning. I’m sure this is all a simple misunderstanding.’
To do him justice, he seems equally shaken. Concern furrows his face as he fetches me water when I decline brandy and start to shiver.
‘Hey, you’re cold. You’re in shock.’ He puts his arm around my shoulders as I sip and I recover quickly, his warmth and closeness bringing a glow to my cheeks faster than any spirit.
He looks worried but the barrier’s still there. I nestle closer for warmth and all at once I sense him grow still.
‘Ella, can I try something?’
I stare up at him in alarm. ‘What kind of thing?’
What now? He wants to examine my phone? Check my emails? Prove I’m a liar?
He frowns, like he has to concentrate, his face barely inches from mine. ‘I’m not sure. I just want to make up my mind about something.’
He brushes my lips with his. I sit perfectly still for a long moment as sensation rockets through me. All at once something that reignited the second I saw him earlier this afternoon flares into a forest fire and I launch myself at him. In seconds I’m pinned beneath him on the sofa and he’s kissing me deep, his tongue surging into my mouth in a full-on invasion. One hand captures my wrists and hauls them high over my head. The other dives deep into the cloth-filled spaces between us as he probes the soft warmth between my thighs. The mounds of my breasts are crushed under the weight of the pounding heartbeat drumming through the muscles of his chest.
I writhe below him, thrilled at my capture, relishing imprisonment. I offer up all the spent, frustrated passion I’ve battened down so long, burning all the more fiercely now because it had no hope of release until
