makes two of us, darling.
He and Pete waited at the BMW for the two women to join them. The black roof of the red convertible lifted from its slot at the back of the car and was locked in at the front. The blonde emerged first, waving excitedly at Pete. She looked very cute, wearing a clingy blue dress with shoestring shoulder straps. A pocket Venus for Pete, Zack thought, smiling at his choice.
Well, Catherine, strut your stuff, he silently challenged as a long rippling mane of very lustrous brown hair rose from the driver’s side, the kind of hair that would look good on a pillow, Feel good, too. A tingle of temptation touched his fingertips. He clenched his hands to wipe it away. This was not the time to let a woman get to him. So she had great hair. The workings of the brain under it probably had no appeal at all.
She turned to close the door and lock the car. Zack’s attention was galvanised. Pete hadn’t lied. He hadn’t even exaggerated. Catherine Trent was a stunner. Helen of Troy came to mind. Here was a face that could definitely launch a thousand ships. It seemed to simmer with sexual promise, aided by the erotic positioning of a deep pink flower over her right ear.
The tingle in his fingertips moved to his groin and there was nothing physical he could do to remove it. He tried willing it away. Impossible mission. She moved to the back of the car to join up with her sister and the full view of her was enough to blow any willpower right out of Zack’s head. Even his side vision was affected. Livvy Trent blurred. Only Catherine remained in sharp focus.
She had a mesmerising hour-glass figure, mouth-wateringly lush femininity encased in a slinky little black dress with a short flirty skirt that barely reached mid-thigh on long shapely legs that Zack thought would feel fantastic wrapped around him. She was tall—tall enough to wear flat black shoes, though they looked like ballet slippers with straps crossed around her ankles. Somehow they were erotic, too, more so than kinky stiletto heels.
His gaze leapt back to her fascinating face as she came nearer. A slight dimple in her chin, a sultry full-lipped mouth, straight nose, angled cheekbones that highlighted the unusual shape of her eyes, more triangular than almond, amber irises, glinting golden between their black frame of thick lashes. Cat’s eyes, he thought, but they didn’t conjure up the image of some tame domestic cat, more an infinitely dangerous panther, capable of clawing him apart.
And why he should find that idea exciting he didn’t know. Didn’t think about it. It just was. He felt something dark and primitive stir inside him, wanting to take up the challenge she was beaming at him, wanting her submission to the desires she aroused, wanting to possess every part of her until he’d consumed the power she was exerting over him.
A Class-A hunk, Catherine thought when she first saw Pete’s friend. Tall, dark and handsome with a body brimful of strong masculinity, his tight black jeans and the short-sleeved, open-necked white shirt showing off his impressive physique. Lots of surface sex appeal, but undoubtedly a bloated male ego to go with it.
‘Wow!’ Livvy murmured approvingly. ‘Pete’s friend sure measures up.’
Probably worked out at a gym in front of mirrors. Catherine was determinedly unimpressed, yet as they strolled towards the two men, a flutter started up in the pit of her stomach. It was the way he was looking at her, she argued to herself, assessing her female assets which, unfortunately, were on blatant display in Livvy’s dress.
She hadn’t cared earlier, even letting Livvy put the silly pink flower in her hair. It matched the spray of pink flowers featured on the black fabric of the dress, spreading diagonally from the left shoulder to the hem of the skirt. Livvy was into flowers in her hair this summer, using them as accessories to her outfits, but it wasn’t Catherine’s style. Not that it mattered tonight, except…she hoped Pete’s friend wasn’t seeing it as some flirtatious come-on.
On the other hand, if he wasn’t too full of himself, he was certainly attractive enough to flirt with. Though that could be a dangerous play. She wasn’t used to partnering a powerfully built man, and as she got closer, this man seemed to emanate power, the kind of big male dominant power that suddenly sent weak little quivers down her thighs.
Stuart was no taller than herself and his physique was on the lean side. His attraction lay more in a quicksilver charm than sheer physical impact. Catherine had always found eye contact and conversation sexier than actual bodies. All the same, she couldn’t stop her eyes from feasting on this guy. He had an undeniable animal magnetism that tugged out a wanton wondering about what it might be like to have sex with him.
Different, she decided.
Not quite civilised.
Dark and intense.
Like his eyes…now that he was looking directly into hers.
Catherine sucked in a quick breath as her heart skipped into a wild canter. This guy had it in spades. With one searing look he burnt Stuart Carstairs right out of her mind and stamped his own image over the scar. It was a stunning impact. Catherine hadn’t even begun to recover from it when she heard Pete Raynor start the introductions.
‘Livvy…Catherine…this is my friend, Zack Freeman…’
Another stunning impact.
She knew him. Or rather, knew of him. Who didn’t in the computer graphics business? Zack Freeman was already reaching legendary status for what he had achieved in special effects. He produced amazing stuff. And he was Pete’s friend…her blind date?
Very white teeth flashed a winning smile. ‘I’m delighted to meet you both. And I wish you a very happy birthday, Livvy.’
He offered his hand to her first—a perfunctory courtesy as Livvy thanked him—just a quick touch—then to Catherine, who found her hand captured by his for several seconds, making her extremely conscious of the warm flesh-to-flesh contact.
‘I appreciate your giving me your company tonight, Catherine,’ he said very personally, his voice pitched to a low, deep intimacy.
Her stomach flipped. She’d thought of Zack Freeman as some clever computer nerd with a weird creative genius, occupying some planet of his own. Yet here he was, right in front of her, so dynamically sexy she could scarcely breathe. It was a miracle she found the presence of mind to produce a reply.
‘My pleasure.’
His smile was quite dazzling, given the dark tan of his skin. He had a strong nose, strong chin. His eyebrows were straight and low, his eyes deepset, somehow emphasising their penetrating power. His hair was a mass of tight, springy black curls which should have had a softening effect, but perversely added a sense of wound-up aggression.
‘Nice car,’ he said, nodding to where she’d parked.
‘I like it.’
His eyes teased as he asked, ‘What does it say about you?’
She already felt under attack from him and instinctively she fended off the probe that was asking her to reveal private feelings. ‘Does it have to say anything?’
‘Cars always say something about their owners.’ He withdrew his hand and gestured to his friend. ‘Now take Pete here. His BMW says he’s made it. He’s solid. He likes proven performance.’
‘Right on,’ Pete agreed.
‘So what car do you own?’ Catherine
