Dirty Devil. Jackie Ashenden

his story. Now it had an edge creeping into it. ‘You’re not a reporter, not given how you managed to pick my lock. How did you do that, by the way?’

      Quickly, I sorted through my options. I could brazen it out and insist on being with the company, but since he personally vetted his staff that probably wouldn’t work. And, given the lock situation, as he’d already said, I couldn’t pretend to be a reporter. Not when the lock had been heavy duty and somewhat difficult to open even for a person of my skills.

      The only option I had left was...stalker fan desperate to catch a glimpse of her idol. Did billionaires have stalker fans? I guess there was only one way to find out.

      I let out a breath, as if I was disappointed. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘You win. I’m not actually with the catering company. But I’m not a reporter either.’

      The gleam in his silver eyes was like a blade and something twisted deep inside me. This man was a different beast from the charming playboy out on the terrace. Honed and sharp as a dagger, and just as lethal.

      It seemed at odds with the faint hint of his expensive, subtle cologne I could scent in the air, all warm spice and sunshine.

      My heartbeat tripled, my breath catching. And it wasn’t with fear.

      There was something incredibly exciting about this—about him. About how different he was right now from the man I’d seen on the terrace, and I wasn’t sure why I liked that. I just did.

      Maybe it was the danger factor. It had been a while since I’d had a job quite as challenging as this one was turning out to be. Still, I couldn’t afford to get too carried away. If I didn’t get it together he’d go straight to the police and there would go Mr Chen’s business. The business I’d promised him I’d take care of before he died.

      ‘I’m waiting, Sugar.’ Blackwood didn’t sound impatient and yet that edge was sharpening in the air around him by the second.

      I twisted my hands in front of me, trying to project nervousness, and to be honest I didn’t have to try all that hard.

      ‘Okay, so this is really embarrassing.’ I shifted on my feet. ‘I’m here because I... I wanted to see you.’

      He lifted his pierced brow, the ring in it glinting. ‘See me?’

      Maybe billionaires didn’t have stalker fans. Surely he would know what I was talking about?

      ‘Yeah.’ I cleared my throat, pushing on regardless. ‘I...just think you’re so amazing. I read everything about you, see all the interviews you’ve given. I mean, that interview you gave for Vanity Fair was just...’ I injected as much breathlessness into my voice as I could, which for some reason didn’t seem difficult. ‘Anyway, my cousin was sick of hearing about it. She bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t get into your party and so I... Well...’ I gave a nervous laugh and waved towards the door.

      His expression didn’t change, his silver gaze sliding over me, the pressure cool as metal on my skin. ‘Is that a fact? And I suppose you just happened to be an excellent forger, not to mention an expert in breaking and entering?’

      Oh, crap.

       He’s called you. Time for plan B.

      That was plan B. I didn’t have any other plans. Not when I hadn’t expected to get caught.

      Fear twisted inside me, but I fought it as I sorted through more options, forcing myself not to panic.

      Hadn’t Mr Chen always said to use anything and everything to your advantage when it came to difficult situations? Because there was one option I hadn’t considered yet: using my femininity. Blackwood was, after all, a playboy who’d apparently never met a woman he didn’t want to take to bed. And I’d done it before, with the security guy and the whole undoing the top button routine, and it had worked.

       Yes, but he’s not your standard security guy. He’s a connoisseur and you’re not exactly Scarlett Johansson.

      This was sadly true. But I didn’t have a choice. It was either try it or it was a jail cell for me.

      So I took a couple of slow steps towards him, allowing my hips to sway, ‘Does it matter?’ Much to my annoyance, I didn’t have to fake the husky sound in my voice as much as I’d thought I would. ‘I’m an expert in other things too. Would you like to know what they are?’

      He didn’t move, watching me come closer. ‘I feel certain you’re about to tell me.’

      I stopped inches away from him, my heart hammering in my chest. He was so very tall, that big, muscular body oh, so close. The black cotton of his shirt gave a hint at the hard musculature of his chest and I found my attention wandering, staring at him. He’d left the top couple of buttons undone, giving me a close-up glimpse of those tattoos, the colours bright reds, golds and blues.

       Apparently that trick works on women too.

      I gritted my teeth and tipped my head back to look up at him, making myself hold his gaze, listening to the beat of my heart get louder and louder in my ears.

      I wasn’t used to people looking at me. I wasn’t used to people noticing I even existed. Yet now Damian Blackwood hadn’t just noticed me; he was looking right at me with so much intense focus I could hardly breathe.

      Being unseen and unnoticed had never bothered me before—at least, I hadn’t let it bother me. But it wasn’t until now, with the gaze of the world’s most beautiful man on me, that I realised actually I was bothered by it.

      It made me feel cold. Because it was cold being a shadow. Cold and lonely. And he was like...the sun. Like summer. The promise of light, warmth and everything I hadn’t known I was missing.

       You’re insane. Remember who he is and don’t get carried away.

      ‘Are you going to seduce me, Sugar?’ His voice was soft and deep, and I could feel that heat in it now, the cold edge fading, leaving behind it something that sounded a hell of a lot like amusement. ‘I mean, I assume that’s why you’re looking at me like that.’

      Damn it. The bastard was seeing every play I made.

      Shoving away my weird emotional reaction to him, I lifted a brow, consciously copying him, dropping the ‘stalker fan’ nonsense. ‘I’m looking at you like what? You’ll have to be clear, Mr Blackwood.’

      And strangely, as if he’d simply been waiting for me to drop the act all along, he smiled that wonderful smile, slow and devastating. ‘Oh, I can be clear, Sugar. I can be very clear. You want to give me a blow job. Or maybe a quick fuck on my desk. Anything to distract me, right?’

      Electricity fizzed in my blood. I hadn’t expected him to see through me. I hadn’t expected any kind of challenge at all and I...liked it. But I had to be careful. He could steal control of the situation away from me so easily and I couldn’t let him do that.

      I took the last step so I was almost touching him, looking up from underneath my lashes. ‘I could do any and all of those things,’ I said huskily. ‘If you think it’ll work?’

      That blinding, wicked smile deepened. ‘It might. I guess the only way you’ll know is to give it a try.’

      He was goading me, I was certain of it, because that beautiful smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That hard gleam was still there. A challenge. And I knew I shouldn’t respond to it, but what else could I do? My only other option was to turn and run, and I didn’t think he’d let me get far.

       If you play your cards right, you might have some time to search for the necklace later.

      Good point. I could seduce him and that would at least mean he’d forget about calling security and throwing me out, wouldn’t it? And, if I was very good, maybe I could even convince him to let me stay the night, which would then give me time to find and take that damn necklace.