date to her front door—again, gentlemanly.
Ordinarily he would have followed his date inside, all the way into her bed. Gentlemanly? No. But expected. On both sides.
Ordinarily.
But with Kate…?
Well, it wasn’t a date.
It was supposed to have been just an easy fix for the night. Because he really hadn’t felt like going the black-book route and he really hadn’t wanted to do the sexual brush-off at the end—which he definitely would have done, because fidelity really was a sticking point for him and he really wasn’t interested in having sex with anyone except Kate. For now, he added, just to be clear on that. And, aside from all of that, it had been fun to manipulate Kate’s rules by negotiating her role tonight as part of Play Time.
An easy fix, a non-date, a fun manipulation.
But it had turned into something…else.
Because with her there, the award had been somehow more important than it should have been—and that had surprised him.
Because Hugo had tried to show off to her and she hadn’t thought he was anything special—in fact, she’d thought he was a little bit ridiculous.
Because they’d laughed together like…like that.
Because she’d had to go and get all proud and lovely about his award.
None of which had anything to do with the end-game.
And it was the end-game he wanted—not the something…else.
So it was best to re-establish some distance between them before he had sex with Kate again. And as for walking her to her front door…? He just hadn’t trusted himself to get that far and no further. Not with her.
Anyway, it wasn’t as if she was his responsibility. He didn’t have to usher her protectively behind locked doors. She wasn’t some vulnerable girl who couldn’t take care of herself. She could take care of herself. She wanted to take care of herself. She’d been arriving home from all kinds of dates—and this wasn’t even a date—for years. She’d laughed when he’d insisted on going to her door to pick her up tonight. She hadn’t looked at all put out that he wasn’t getting out of the car to walk her to her door at the end of the night. She didn’t want that kind of attention. She didn’t need—
Oh, dammit to hell!
Swearing fluently and comprehensively, Scott did a U-turn and sped back to Kate’s. He screeched to a stop, leapt from the car, raced to the apartment block and followed a semi-familiar resident into the building without having to press the intercom. Which was fortuitous, because he had no idea yet what he was going to say to explain his reappearance.
His heart was thumping when he reached Kate’s apartment and knocked on her door.
He still had no idea what to say, but he was suddenly so desperate to see her he was happy just to wing it. So answer…open the door…come on.
Kate opened the door cautiously.
Well, of course she was cautious! He could have been anyone.
‘You shouldn’t open the door without knowing who it is,’ he said. Yep, he had lost his freaking mind.
Her only response was to raise her eyebrows. God, he loved the way she did that—all haughty and amused.
She was still wearing that stunning dress, but her hair was half down and her feet were bare.
Scott cleared his throat. ‘I should have walked you to your door.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s the right thing to do.’
She shook her head, laughed as though to say silly boy—and that riled him.
So he reached for her, pulled her close and did what he’d been wanting to do all night.
He kissed her.
SCOTT WAS STILL kissing her as he backed her into the apartment and kicked the door closed.
And Kate really wished he didn’t have the ability to turn her to mush—because she’d wanted to be the one closing the door. Slamming it. Right in his face.
Because…because… Well, because how dared he make tonight the first date in his life that wasn’t ending with sex? Not that it was a date, but still!
Pride might have forced her to laugh it off out there in the car, but she was furious. His first date not to end in sex and it was her? On this night of all nights? An important night he’d shared with her? A night when he’d finally shared something?
Yep—one hundred per cent furious.
But with Scott kissing her as though he wanted to suck her right into his soul, she felt the anger drain away. Because she could feel that it was more than a kiss. There was something there—something he wanted from her that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, articulate. Something that made her ache for him, long for him.
‘Scott, what’s wrong?’ she asked when he broke away to take a breath. ‘Tell me. Please tell me.’
But he kissed her again. ‘Just let me…’ he said. Kiss. ‘I want…’ Kiss. ‘I just…’
He didn’t finish those sentences. Kate wondered if he’d even finished them in his own head. Because he kept kissing her, for the longest time, as though there were no thoughts, just the kissing.
And for tonight, she decided, it was enough.
‘Come with me,’ Kate said, and led him to the bedroom.
Scott undressed her. First, the cheongsam—falling to the floor in a purple crumple. Next came her underwear. Her most expensive, coffee-coloured silk and lace, removed like an inconvenience. She smiled, remembering the excitement with which she’d donned that underwear, thinking to drive him wild tonight—and now he just didn’t care.
He reached into her hair, gently removed the remaining pins, tossed them to the floor. Ran his fingers through the red mass of it, seemingly more interested in her hair than the sight of her naked body.
It felt strange…and thrilling. The way his eyes stayed on her face, her hair.
‘Take my clothes off,’ he said, and his voice was a throb.
Kate chose first to put her mouth on his, to let it cling there. She took a moment to snuggle against him, feeling both vulnerable and wicked as his arms closed around her and she was held, naked, against his fully clothed body.
Not until he started to shake did she step back, slipping her hands
