The Wedding Contract. Nicola Marsh
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Interest flared in his eyes as his gaze swept her body, sending her heart hammering. ‘On the contrary. It arouses my curiosity further.’
She blinked to break the hypnotising eye contact, imagining the many ways she could arouse him and vice versa.
Thankfully, the arrival of their meal put paid to any further interrogation and Amber breathed a sigh of relief. This man had the power to twist her into knots and she had no idea how to untangle herself. The sooner he laid his cards on the table and left her alone, the better.
Once she’d finished the last of her delicious prawns smothered in garlic and chilli, she sat back and patted her stomach. ‘That was fantastic.’
Her action drew his stare to that region of her anatomy like a magnet and she quickly sat up, disconcerted at the heat that unravelled in her belly and spread to lower regions.
‘Can I tempt you with dessert?’ His low, husky voice sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.
That depends. Are you offering dessert…or dessert?
By the amused look on his face, she thought for a sudden, horrifying moment that she’d spoken aloud.
‘No, thanks.’ She clasped her hands tightly, wishing the evening would come to an end.
‘Sweet enough, huh?’
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, wishing her heart would stop pounding. She knew she shouldn’t flirt with him but a little incorrigible voice inside her head wouldn’t accept that. ‘You tell me.’
‘I’d say you’re something like a lemon tart. Looks delicious but with a tang that can set you on edge.’ Unfortunately, he kept staring at her with blatant hunger, as if he had every intention of sampling her and coming back for seconds.
‘Yeah, well, you’ll never get a taste.’
At the speculative gleam in his eyes, she cleared her throat and continued quickly, ‘Thanks for the meal. Now, back to business. I’ve told you my ideas. What do you think?’
He hadn’t discussed much about the proposed takeover at all. In fact, he’d focused far too much attention on her, and not the business they had come here to talk about.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be over to see your father first thing in the morning.’ He spoke calmly, rationally, but she sensed something more. If she wasn’t mistaken, he sounded like a chauvinistic male who thought deals could only be sealed between men.
She pushed back her chair and stood up so quickly her head spun. She couldn’t believe he’d sidetracked her with good food, fine champagne and diverse conversation. And now, when she needed some concrete information to take home, he was giving her the brush-off.
‘I do have half a brain in my head, so if you decide to do business, let me know. I’ll be waiting outside.’ Resisting the urge to tug down her skirt and spoil her exit, she stalked out of the dining room, head held high.
Steve watched her walk away, the green dress she wore flouncing against her thighs. He couldn’t believe she’d worn a dress that short, especially after the kiss they had shared. What did she think he was, made of stone?
Unfortunately, a certain part of his anatomy had thought so since the minute he laid eyes on her tonight. Her body was every bit as luscious as he’d imagined, and thankfully had been on full display since the disappearance of that ridiculous gypsy-like outfit she’d worn earlier that afternoon.
Admit it, Rockwell. She has you hooked.
Pushing the niggling thought from his head, he paid the bill and followed her outside. She’d wandered towards the beach, where the wind whipped her hair back and plastered the flimsy dress against her shapely legs.
‘Unless you want to get arrested for indecent exposure, I suggest you get in the car,’ he murmured in her ear, catching a tantalising glimpse of cleavage as she whirled around.
‘Stop telling me what to do. And don’t sneak up on me like that.’ She spoke quietly, but he sensed the barely restrained anger beneath her calm exterior.
He offered her an arm. ‘Have I done something to offend you?’
She stared at his arm as if he had some contagious disease. ‘What haven’t you done? You waltz into our lives, ready to close down a family business. Then you bring me out here to supposedly discuss the aforementioned, yet don’t. And as for that kiss…’ She trailed off and looked away.
He took a step closer, bringing him within a foot of her. ‘I’m not going to apologise again for something I don’t regret.’
That got her attention, and her gaze flew to his face. Thankfully, he managed to maintain a cool façade while his gut twisted with desire. If she kept staring at him with those eyes he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions, and this time there would be no stopping him.
‘Let’s go.’ She turned around and stalked towards the car, leaving him with a distinct case of lust that he needed to ignore.
She didn’t speak a word on the trip back to the carnival, pointedly staring out of the passenger window. He sneaked a peek at her, wondering what it was about this strange woman that appealed to him so much. Usually he preferred tall, cool brunettes, not wild blondes with sharp tongues.
She’d surprised him with her business degree. He couldn’t imagine her stalking the corridors of power, though he would bet she’d put anyone who crossed her path back into line, quick smart. And as for her tastes, he should have guessed they would match the rest of her: alternative, exotic, fascinating.
She intrigued him. He wondered how long he could string out this deal with her father. Hopefully at least till he’d sampled the hidden delights of this rare woman.
She practically bolted from the car as he pulled up outside the carnival and shut off the engine.
‘Hey, wait up.’ He strode after her, his long strides eating up the ground, her high heels no match for them. He caught her at the Ferris wheel.
‘Goodnight. See you in the morning.’ Her gaze flickered past him and a huge smile lit up her face. ‘Time to pack it in, Stan?’
Wishing that special smile was for him, he turned and saw a wizened old man doffing a moth-eaten hat that had seen better days. ‘Evenin’, miss. Yeah, it’s about that time.’
Steve looked back at her and raised an eyebrow, angling for an introduction. She got the message. ‘Stan, I’d like you to meet Steve Rockwell.’
Stan thrust out a hand. ‘Pleased to meet ya. Any lad of this young lady is a friend of mine.’
Steve stifled a grin and shook the old guy’s hand, not daring to look at Amber.
‘Oh, he’s not my lad, Stan. He’s just a—’ She bit back what she’d been about to say and he knew why. If the carnival was about to close down, she wouldn’t want the employees to know a lawyer was sniffing around.