The Dare Collection November 2018. Christy McKellen

about you?’

      He leaned closer, his mouth hovering tantalisingly close. ‘I lost a huge sum of money five minutes ago.’

      Heat billowed through my body. ‘You knew what you were letting yourself in for.’

      He winced. ‘Ouch. Have a little mercy, Leonora,’ he whispered.

      God, the way he said my name. Where was the mercy there? ‘Fine, I’m sorry you lost a shitload of money. Now, can we get back to—’

      ‘Who was he?’

      ‘Pardon?’

      ‘You said you knew what it felt like. So who let you down?’ he demanded, that edge back in his voice.

      I swallowed the boulder wedged in my throat. ‘I’m not in the habit of divulging my personal details to my clients, Mr Mortimer.’

      His mouth twisted. ‘Don’t give me that Mr Mortimer bullshit. We’re past that. Just as we’re past all that surface stuff, regardless of how much you want to cling to it. You watched me almost lose control in the shower this morning because you’re so fucking sexy I can’t think straight around you. Then the next time I see you, some idiot with wandering hands and busy lips is all over you. I lost our little bet, which means you can walk out that door any minute. But before you do, I want to know you a little better, and not just as a damned client. So let’s have a simple conversation, shall we?’

      It was too much. He was too bloody much.

      ‘Simple? You think prying into a painful subject like that is simple?’ I said through numb lips.

      He stared at me for a charged second, then he grimaced. ‘Fuck. Any chance that little shitty outburst can be slotted under a misdemeanour?’

      I wanted to hold on to the pain and anger mixing inside me but hell...the way he was looking at me...

      I dragged my eyes from his, although I felt the steady pressure of his gaze as I walked over to the bespoke bar equipped with a stunning array of liquor. ‘Drink?’

      He gave an abrupt nod.

      I poured a shot of whisky, added two cubes of ice, then fixed a rum and Coke I didn’t really want for myself. If he was surprised I knew his choice of drink—courtesy of a little internet research this afternoon—he chose not to comment.

      I held out the glass, trying not to ogle his sexy body as he came towards me. He took the drink from me, and I clinked my glass against his. He sipped his Macallan without taking his eyes from me. I followed suit, licked a drop of Coke that lingered on my bottom lip.

      Then a fiercely important question burst from my lips. ‘Who was the brunette from this morning?’

      His throat moved as he swallowed. ‘A Russian translator I hired to do some work while I’m here. Are you going to leave, Leonora?’

      I didn’t answer immediately. I let him wait while I took another sip. Then I set my glass down and stepped up to him. He stilled, his eyes watchful as I reached out and toyed with the top button of his shirt. ‘Maybe. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But I know that I don’t want to talk about my ex-fiancé, who ran off with another woman two weeks before our wedding.’

      He inhaled sharply. ‘Jesus. I’m—’

      I surged onto my tiptoes and silenced him with my mouth. In the last twenty-four hours I’d let things slip to Gideon about myself I hadn’t told anyone in years. This man was unravelling me in ways I didn’t like, even while he reeled me in with his insane magnetism.

      One kiss. That was all I wanted. One kiss and I’d remove myself from his orbit before he delved deeper into places I didn’t want him to go.

      Except, the moment the gap closed between us and I felt the bold imprint of his cock against my belly, I knew I was sunk.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      Leonie

      TIME STRETCHED ON a taut elastic string, steeping each moment in vivid colour. The hot brush of his firm, smooth lips as I tasted him. The sharp explosions of our breaths mingling when I flicked my tongue over the seam of his lower lip. The springy luxury of his hair between my fingers as I clutched him closer, opened my mouth and boldly attempted to devour him.

      The faint aroma of whisky on his breath as he leaned into my touch, imprinted his lower body deeper, harder into mine.

      My hips undulated independently of my brain’s direction, the bold thrust of his cock firing lustful craving throughout my body.

      I wanted this man.

      Desperately.

      As if he’d heard that unguarded confession, a rough sound rumbled through his chest.

      I drew back, a proud, desperate need to know I wasn’t alone in this scything through me. ‘You want me.’

      Stormy eyes met mine. ‘After this morning in the bathroom, you need further proof?’ he growled.

      I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

      His eyes grew watchful, a little wary. My gaze dropped to the drink he still clutched. My fingers wrapped around his wrist, felt the powerful flex of muscle as I nudged it upward. Eyes reconnecting with his, I pressed my lower lip against the glass and tilted it.

      Gideon’s breath expelled in a heated puff. ‘Leonora...’

      Despite the fever in his eyes, there was a reticence in his voice that rubbed me the wrong way. Just like this morning, something drove me to test his control, gain the upper hand before he snatched it from me.

      With a step back, I perched my bottom on the edge of the blackjack table, and braced my hands behind me.

      Gratifyingly, his gaze dragged down my body, lingering on my breasts, my hips, to stare brazenly at my legs as I slowly crossed them.

      ‘Let’s finish this meeting, shall we? What else do I need to know about your client?’

      He visibly gathered himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed again. Draining his glass, he discarded it, then stepped closer. Our bodies didn’t touch but his heat drew me like a seductive fire, inviting me to lose myself in his warmth.

      Or burn in his dangerous flames.

      ‘He’s been dragging his feet on this deal for weeks. I’ve just about reached the end of my rope with him.’

      I uncrossed and recrossed my legs. ‘So this is a last-chance schmooze to get him to sign on the dotted line?’

      Gideon hauled his gaze up my body. ‘Something like that. Although I can’t promise I won’t throw him overboard if he refuses to play ball.’

      ‘I have insurance for that sort of thing but I wouldn’t recommend it.’

      A strained smile lifted one corner of his sexy mouth. ‘What would you recommend for an intransigent Russian?’

      ‘You’re already doing it. You’re bringing him on board my boat.’

      One eyebrow lifted. ‘You’re claiming magical powers,’ he stated drolly.

      ‘You doubt me?’

      He sucked in a slow breath. ‘Right this minute, I’d doubt nothing you told me,’ he replied, his voice slurring sexily.

      The evidence of his fractured control made me wetter. I knew I didn’t want to leave this room without at least tasting him again.

      Slowly, I let my thighs fall apart. ‘Come here, Gideon.’

      His eyes grew a shade darker. ‘You enjoy calling the shots, Leonora?’

      ‘Does that bother you?’ I parried.

      His jaw clenched hard, as if fighting