when she’d asked about him giving her an orgasm.
Of all the preposterous pick-up lines, that was the best he’d heard.
Except it hadn’t been a pick-up line. She hadn’t wanted to admit her inexperience. That probably explained her flippant question about him helping her rid herself of that particular lack in her life. She’d been bluffing. Of course she had.
Adoni turned back to the screen. Yet it wasn’t the legal document he saw, but the rosy blush that coloured her creamy skin and her haughty, challenging glare.
Give her an orgasm? The trouble was how much the idea enticed.
What had she said? She’d never had luck with men, never had a kiss that knocked her socks off. Never had an orgasm. Clearly she was unlucky if none of her lovers had bothered to take care of that when they sought their own pleasure.
Adoni’s heart might no longer be engaged when he had sex, but he prided himself on being a generous lover. His partner’s satisfaction added to his own pleasure, and he’d no more bed a woman and leave her wanting than he’d renege on a business contract.
The contract. He ploughed his fingers through his hair, sinking his head into his hands and forcing his attention back to the computer.
He’d finish the contract then wake Ms Trouble-on-Two-Legs Trehearn and send her off in a taxi. Then he’d get a decent night’s sleep ready for work tomorrow, despite it being Sunday.
Adoni ground his teeth at the sly voice telling him his life was lacking if that was the best he could do on a Saturday night. Send home the female he lusted after then get an early night ready for work.
Was this what all those years of toil had been for? He’d scraped himself up from the gutter when Vassili Petrakis, the man he’d believed to be his father, disowned him. He’d risen above the pain of his fiancée’s rejection and poured his anger and determination into building his company from nothing.
He’d let his drive to succeed fill the void where his personal life used to be. He had no family to distract him now. Fleetingly, he thought of his younger brothers, a pang of regret piercing his chest. But they belonged to another life, one barred to him for ever.
Now he was CEO of a company worth billions. He had homes in Greece and the UK, plus a ski chalet in Colorado and a yacht that shared its time between the Med and the Caribbean. Not that he managed much downtime to enjoy them.
Adoni sighed and raked his hand through his hair again. Maybe that was the problem. He needed a vacation.
Or an affair. Intense, enjoyable and short—just the way he liked them. He had no inclination for long-term now he’d taught himself never to trust a woman’s intentions, despite protests of undying love.
Rubbing his temples, he hunched over the screen, rereading clauses he’d skimmed half a dozen times.
He was just sending his response to his New York manager when the back of his neck prickled. He stiffened, instantly aware that his guest was awake. He felt her eyes on him. Worse, that needy throb in his groin was back full force, reminding him he’d been celibate longer than usual.
Even so his reaction to this woman was unprecedented.
Adoni didn’t turn to look at her. That would, for reasons he couldn’t identify, be a sign of weakness. Instead he finished his message, sent it, then closed the computer. Only then did he deign to swivel round in his seat.
She was standing, half turned from him. The satin of her dress slid over svelte, sinuous curves and delectably long legs as she raised her hands to fix her hair in a tight knot.
‘Don’t.’ The sound of his voice surprised him and made her swing round, eyes wide. ‘I like it down.’
He couldn’t read her expressive eyes from this distance but the sudden clamp of her jaw made him expect some dismissive response.
Adoni was surprised when, instead, she paused, arms still raised. ‘Do you?’
When he nodded she dropped her arms and a dark curtain of hair fell to cloak her shoulders. Now it was dry he saw rich hints of auburn in the dark brown. He curled his hands closed against the impulse to get up and stroke those shimmering tresses.
Her breasts rose with her deep breath and Adoni’s gaze trailed from her bare shoulder where one sleeve drooped down her arm, across the upper slope of her breasts then up via her slender throat to her lips.
Damn! That sulky, sexy mouth would be the death of common sense. Why hadn’t he fully appreciated it till she wiped the horrible lipstick away?
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your sofa.’ Had she misinterpreted his shudder of arousal for one of disdain? ‘I apologise for...’ she faltered and gestured wide ‘...for inviting myself in here.’ She looked around the vast executive suite as if she’d never seen it. Presumably she hadn’t taken in her surroundings earlier.
That, and the way she spoke, plus the shadow of tension where before there’d been nothing but a lack of inhibition, told Adoni the effects of the alcohol were wearing off.
He was torn between relief that she was obviously recovered enough to go home, and regret.
As if he wanted her to stay.
For her amusing conversation, or something else?
White teeth bit that plump bottom lip. Did she read the sexual interest he couldn’t douse?
‘No need to apologise. It’s been an interesting evening.’
She shut her eyes for a moment. ‘I’m sure it has. You’ve been very forbearing. Thank you for...’ again that wave of one hand ‘...for the coffee and for letting me sleep.’ Once again, soft colour stained her pale cheeks. Adoni found himself wondering how long it had been since he’d met a woman who still blushed.
‘My pleasure.’ He stood and again her eyes rounded as they traced him, as if she hadn’t realised how tall he was. Or perhaps he looked different now he’d shed his jacket and tie, undone a couple of buttons and rolled up his sleeves.
Neither moved. Did he imagine the heavy chug of energy thickening the atmosphere? Adoni wasn’t prone to flights of fancy, yet it seemed all the air in the room was being sucked away, making it hard to breathe.
He watched her swallow, her slender throat pale and alluring, especially when compared with that mustard horror of a dress. It was as if someone had taken something pure and hidden it beneath layers of camouflage.
Pure? An old-fashioned word for a woman who’d blatantly invited him to be sexually intimate. Yet it seemed apt. Alice Trehearn was surely the most honest woman he’d ever met. In Adoni’s world, where people pretended affection in return for material comforts, honesty was the purest quality he knew.
* * *
He took a step closer and Alice’s insides twisted like a riot of butterflies dipping and fluttering over a spring meadow.
Now the effects of the wine had worn off she was stunned to find herself alone with such a man.
That he was wealthy and powerful went without saying. It was obvious
