The Dare Collection November 2018. Christy McKellen

anyone ever told you you’re an unpleasant boor?’

      He flashed that grin again but again his eyes remained flat. Clearly, my question about having a wife and kids had struck a nerve that still rankled. I curbed my curiosity as he answered, ‘All the damn time.’

      ‘And let me guess, you wear it as a badge of honour?’

      ‘You’re changing the subject. Explain yourself. And if you’re staying in here, come closer. I can barely hear you over the sound of the shower.’

      With every cell in my body I wanted to withhold the information. Or miraculously find a different way of sealing the deal that didn’t involve spending almost a month on a boat with this man.

      Because my stupid body seemed bent on betraying me, craving him in all the specific ways he’d just suggested.

      ‘Leonora?’

      With a deep breath, I did what I came here to do. Offered myself up on a silver platter. Professionally, of course.

      My starving libido and needy pussy could take a running jump.

      Directing my gaze to his face and nowhere near his spectacular body, I answered, ‘I’m the extra staff member. I’ll be joining the crew on Monday.’

      Several expressions flitted across his face in vivid real time. Anticipation. Hunger. Triumph. Black fury. That last one stayed for a few seconds too long. Then he veered away from me as if he couldn’t stand to look at me. He jerkily sluiced back his wet hair and his shoulders heaved as if he was reining himself in.

      It was beyond fascinating to watch.

      ‘Fuck.’

      The word was delivered with such venom I would’ve taken a step back had I not felt more than a little powerful at eliciting such a charged response.

      ‘Problem?’ The question was a shameless taunt.

      He didn’t answer. He continued to stand, head bent beneath the spray.

      It prompted me to speak just to defuse the thick tension. ‘Or if you’ve changed your mind and no longer need extra crew, I assure you you’ll still be well catered to.’

      Another few beats went by. Then he lifted his head and looked at me, and my stomach dipped as a lethally gorgeous smile spread across his face. ‘I haven’t changed my mind, Leonora. I still want what I want, for good or ill.’

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      That darkness descended on his face again. ‘It means my every instinct suggests it’s a bad idea to take you up on your offer. But I’m going to anyway.’

      My mouth dried as he twisted the shower tap off. Steam and silence shrouded us as he stared at me.

      ‘Why is it a bad idea?’

      He speared me with a telling look. ‘Don’t play games, Leonora. You know,’ he said, his voice softly accusing. ‘It’s why you’re in here when you should be safely in the living room. It’s why I’m going to stay put right here while you hand me a towel and leave. Because if I step outside, all bets are off.’

      Leave, that voice prompted, a little more insistently. My feet refused to comply.

      ‘So what? You plan on using me as some sort of litmus test of your control?’ I asked, my voice a husky mess even to my own ears.

      ‘Yes,’ he answered honestly. ‘I’ve been accused of not having enough...restraint lately.’ Eyes on me, he licked a drop of water that dripped onto his upper lip. ‘So I’d be ever so bloody grateful if you’d hand me the towel, Leonora, and leave.’

      I sucked my own lower lip, crazy sensations careening through me as he continued to hold my gaze in the sultry bathroom. ‘Say please,’ I commanded.

      His sinful lips slowly parted as he reached out and swiped a slow hand across the glass, clearing a swathe of condensation. His gaze bore deeper into mine, before dropping down my body, and I watched him suck in a pained breath. His eyes were twin pools of turbulent hunger when they met mine again. ‘Please,’ he gritted out.

      My hands were nowhere near steady as I plucked a towel off the heated rail and took a step towards the stall door.

      The steam was fast dissipating, revealing more of Gideon’s mouth-watering body. In another minute he’d be fully exposed to me.

      For another tense few seconds, we stared at each other.

      Then those sleek fingers pushed the glass door open and, eyes still holding mine, he held out his hand.

      My arm extended but I didn’t let go. Couldn’t. We stayed connected, our breathing turning more frantic as seconds ticked by.

      When he snapped the towel from my fingers it was like a gunshot in the heated room.

      I didn’t linger to watch him wrap the towel around his lean hips, or step out of the stall. But as I walked away, I knew I’d never been more turned on in my life. Never wanted to fuck another man the way I wanted to fuck Gideon Mortimer.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Gideon

      AFTER TWO LONG weeks of self-enforced celibacy—maddening, unrealistic and utterly fucked-up celibacy I’d imposed on myself because I’d never been a half-measures kind of guy—the delicious challenge of Leonora Branson was like a shot of morphine in my bloodstream.

      Hell, she’d nearly made me blow my load with that ‘say please’ shit.

      I’d never begged for anything in my life.

      She’d made me want to beg. For the damned towel and a whole lot more besides. It was that combination of sexy stubbornness and pure defiance that did it. Not to mention that unfettered boldness.

      But if I was honest, she’d floored me back at the airport by being the polar opposite of what I’d expected. Her stiff intransigence over the phone had reminded me of a schoolmistress, and instead she’d turned out to be a nineteen fifties pin-up bombshell.

      Simply put, Leonora Branson—even her name was cruelly deceptive—was too bloody gorgeous for her own good. Coupled with the intelligence that shone from her eyes and her impressive achievements with such a new business success, it was enough to throw me seriously off guard.

      It was almost amusing that she was doing her damnedest to wrestle all that brain power and fist-biting perfection into a military-like Armani suit. Leonora would command attention adorned in a sack and still have sex-starved fuckers like me at her mercy.

      Or seconds away from stroking their cocks in the shower in full view of her.

       Bloody hell.

      I sucked in a shaky breath, knew that if I didn’t shut off the image of those wide, delicious ocean-blue eyes, I’d come all over the bathroom tiles.

      Her expression was cool and collected when I stepped into the living room five minutes later, save for the telltale pulse beat at her throat. I barely managed to resist the urge to test her resolve.

      To test mine.

      Maybe Aunt Flo was right and I’d developed a self-destructive streak somewhere along the jagged path to oblivion these past three years. It was that niggling suspicion that had made me go the whole hog and throw in full celibacy on the thirty-day no-scandal stipulation. I could only stay on the edge for so long before something gave.

      Regardless of whatever state I was in, I couldn’t very well blame Leonora for asking the one question that triggered all sorts of shit for me, particularly since for most people the subject of children was a run-of-the-mill question, usually with an easy enough answer.

      Not for me.

      Not since Damian and Penny betrayed me and