sent her pulse racing. He was her enemy, for crying out loud. Perhaps he brought all his potential conquests here to astonish them with his family grandeur and made them swoon into his arms.
“So, where’s the cup?” She walked farther away from him, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Hardly. You know where the nooks and crannies are.” There didn’t even seem to be any that she could see. Though there were some battered wooden doors along one wall. “You know, the places where they locked up their enemies and left them for dead?”
“Oubliettes are more of a French thing. We Scots prefer to slit their throats in broad daylight then have a party.”
She had to laugh. “A simple folk.”
“Yes. Reporters have accused me of similar behavior in my business dealings.” Humor glittered in his cool gaze.
She cursed the way her heart fluttered. He’d just admitted that he was a ruthless bastard! How could she still be attracted to him? She should be worried about her own sanity. “Do you think they’re right?” She tried to maintain a steely stare.
“Maybe.” He turned and strode across the room, leaving her standing there, heart pounding and unspoken words crowding her brain.
You stole my father’s business and left him penniless and devastated. She had to keep a cool head until she figured out how to get it back. She couldn’t let him know that she was on the side of those who despised him. “I guess that’s just business, huh?”
He wheeled around, and she was surprised to see a half smile on his face. “It’s a relief to talk to someone who understands.”
She blinked. Okay. She’d opened this trapdoor and fallen in all by herself. “I haven’t had to slit any throats yet.”
He laughed. “You’re still young.”
“Not really.” How arrogant of him. He was only a few years older than she. “I have plenty of life experience.”
Laughter danced in his eyes. “Of course you do.”
She wanted to slap him. “I started my first business when I was twelve.”
“A lemonade stand?”
“Buying old computers and reselling them for scrap.” She lifted her chin. “Much more profitable than squeezing lemons.” No need to mention she’d had the lemonade stand, too.
He moved closer to her. Which was unsettling considering that they had about an acre of space around them. “I started my first business at eleven.”
“Competitive, aren’t you?” She raised a brow. All the tiny hairs on her body stood on end, prickling with awareness as he moved even closer.
“Very. Some have even said it will be my downfall.”
Maybe sooner than you think. “What was your first business?”
“I bought wholesale chocolate bars and resold them to the desperate souls at my boarding school.”
“A captive audience.”
“The best kind.” His shoulders were broad, almost straining against the elegant cut of his shirt. The great room was cool, but she could feel her body temperature spiking as he shifted his stance. His gray gaze rested right on her face, thoughtful, daring her to argue with him.
She straightened her own shoulders and raised herself to her full height, which unfortunately was a good half a foot less than his. “Is it hard to find a captive audience these days?”
“Not at all.” He held her gaze for a heartbeat. “Everyone’s captive in one way or another.”
“Are you?” Had he moved closer? She didn’t see him move his feet, but he was now so near she could lift her hand and touch him. His male scent—expensive wool and subtle musk—tickled her senses. Her nipples now strained against her bra, and she hoped he didn’t notice.
“Absolutely.” His voice was a low growl that took her by surprise, but not as much as the way he stepped in, lifted her chin deftly with his fingers and pressed his lips softly to hers.
Electric voltage zapped through her. Her body temperature shot skyward as his tongue touched hers. I’m kissing James Drummond.
She felt the weight of his palms settle on her lower back. Her breath now came in unsteady gasps, and her hands crept up to his torso and fisted themselves in his shirt.
This man is a beast. He chews people up and spits them out. He just confessed as much!
His low moan in her ear made her desire surge. Her fingers dug into his hard back. His rough skin created pleasurable friction against her cheek as he shifted the angle of the kiss and plunged deeper, making her arch her back and lean into his arms.
Uh-oh. Instead of fighting him off, she gripped him tighter and kissed him back with all the strength she possessed.
His scent was intoxicating. Surprisingly masculine and rugged, betraying the man hidden beneath the expensive designer clothes. She could feel the raw passion of his warlike ancestors surging through them both.
Was there magic in this place? If so, it might be the dark and scary kind. She certainly didn’t feel fully in control of this situation—or even herself—at this moment.
And there was that family curse to contend with….
James’s strong hand squeezed her buttock, which made her squirm. Her breasts bumped against his chest, and his other hand rose to skim her nipple with his thumb. His lips never left hers. His kiss was alternately fierce and tender, drawing her in and taking her breath away. She’d never been kissed like this.
He’s your enemy.
This is probably exactly what his ancestors did with their enemies. The female ones, at least. She was being ravished. Why did it feel so good?
Her fingers had somehow wandered into his thick hair. She pressed the length of her body against his, and the thickening of his arousal made her heart beat faster. James Drummond seemed so cool, so controlled, that it only heightened her desire to feel him surging within her with heat and passion.
There was definitely more to this man than met the eye, or was written about in the columns of Investor’s Business Daily. The way she felt right now, she could easily imagine peeling off his shirt and pants and making love to him right there on the cold stone floor of his ancestral castle.
But he pulled back. His hands slid from her waist and his lips slipped away from hers. An icy chill seemed to replace his touch. She opened her eyes—how long had they been closed?—and found herself blinking in the cold light of the empty hall.
James’s eyes were narrowed, his face hard. “I hadn’t intended for that to happen.” He shoved a hand through his tousled hair. “Yet.”
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