The Dare Collection September 2019. Stefanie London

narrowed, yet all I could think about was how she’d looked straddling me, with that white shirt pulled open, her bare breasts pressing against my chest. The tight clasp of her pussy around my cock. She hadn’t been so suspicious then. No, she’d been full of hunger and demand, gripping onto me as if she couldn’t bear to let me go, warming up the cold places inside me with her heat.

       But you’re not going to keep thinking that, are you?

      Bloody hell, no. I wasn’t here for sex. And besides, I’d been there, done that, and I never went back.

      Fighting down the relentless pull of our chemistry and the anger of thwarted desire, I tried not to snap at her. Because that wouldn’t get me what I wanted. Playing nice wasn’t in my nature, but I’d do it. I knew how to play the long game, too.

      ‘I’m a member of a very exclusive club that hosts a lot of charity events around the world,’ I said. ‘In fact, that event you took me to in Paris was one of them.’

      ‘But you didn’t need a date for Paris.’

      ‘No, but I do for Dubai.’

      ‘Why me?’ she asked bluntly. ‘You must have a hundred other women who’d jump at the chance. And why do you need a date anyway?’

      I was conscious all of a sudden that I didn’t want to give her the details of my plan to dupe Delaney. She was very...blunt. And there was an honesty to her that made me certain she wouldn’t approve.

      Then again, I had no idea why her approval mattered to me. ‘Okay, here’s the situation,’ I said, deciding on the full truth and to hell with my ridiculous qualms. ‘I have a luxury hotel chain that I want to get off the ground and I’m angling for a couple of islands in the Caribbean that would make for a perfect resort site. Unfortunately, the man I want to buy them from is getting cold feet about selling them to me. He wants someone more “family-minded” to have them.’

      Ellie’s gaze sharpened. ‘And you’re not...family-minded.’

      It wasn’t a question.

      ‘No,’ I agreed. ‘But I want those islands. Which means I need to convince this man that I’m as family-minded as he hopes I am.’

      Her silky brows drew together. ‘How?’

      I opened my mouth to tell her, but she’d already worked it out.

      ‘Oh, wait,’ she went on. ‘You want to use me, don’t you?’

      She was quick, I’d give her that.

      ‘I promised Delaney I’d bring my “serious girlfriend” to the next club event,’ I said. ‘And that’s Dubai.’

      ‘So just to be clear—I’m your “serious girlfriend”, right?’

      I leaned back against the couch, meeting the challenging look in her eyes with one of my own. ‘You have a problem with that?’

      ‘With essentially lying to someone to get your hands on their property? Kind of.’

      Her disapproval was palpable and it irritated me, no matter that I’d already prepared myself for it. ‘It’s business, Miss Little, and people lie all the time in business. It’s not a big deal.’

      She kept frowning at me. ‘But why not find some islands you don’t need to jump through so many hoops for?’

      Damn. I didn’t want her asking questions, not when the answers involved Dumont. Because there was no way I was going to talk about him and how he’d not only broken my trust, but my mother’s too.

       You had a hand in it, too, don’t forget.

      Yes. And didn’t I know it?

      ‘Those specific islands are the best sites,’ I replied dismissively, glancing around at the dim bar. ‘Where the hell has that Scotch got to?’

      But I should have known she wouldn’t be distracted.

      ‘There must be other good ones,’ she insisted. ‘It’s the Caribbean. Aren’t there hundreds of islands just lying around waiting to be bought by billionaires?’

      Persistent little thing, wasn’t she?

      My smile started to slip, the leash on my temper starting to fray. ‘I don’t want any other islands. I want those ones.’

      ‘But why?’ she asked, relentless.

      ‘Because I want them. That’s why.’

      ‘That’s not a good enough reason.’

      ‘That’s all the reason you’re going to get,’ I snapped, losing my temper. ‘Will you do it or not?’

      ‘No,’ she snapped back. ‘And don’t get shirty with me. It sounds dodgy and I’m not doing anything dodgy.’

      Desire shot through me, thick and hot. She was rousing the warrior in me, making me want to fight. Take this to the bedroom where we could work out our disagreement in a more private and ultimately more satisfying way.

      Mercifully, at that point the waitress delivered the drinks, giving me a moment to get my temper, not to mention my rapidly hardening cock, under control.

      What I should not be doing was sitting here with her as though we were on a date, but that would be to admit she was getting to me and I wasn’t going to do that.

      Besides, she hadn’t accepted my proposition yet and I wasn’t leaving until she had. It had become a matter of pride now and I never conceded a fight.

      ‘Not even if it meant saving your family’s company?’ I asked casually, playing my ace.

      ‘Oh, I see. So this is blackmail, then?’ Green sparks of anger glittered in her eyes, making my dick twitch in response.

      Christ, the fire in her was sexy. The way she refused to back down got me hard as much as it irritated the shit out of me.

      ‘No, of course not.’ I gritted my teeth. ‘But I promise you there isn’t anything dodgy going on.’

      ‘Lying sounds pretty dodgy to me.’

       You’re going to have to tell her about Dumont.

      Because clearly she wasn’t going to agree to anything until I did. Fuck.

      Lifting my glass, I downed the Scotch in one go, scowling.

      I didn’t relish the idea of telling her about Dumont, but then not telling her made it seem as if I gave a damn about her opinion of me and I didn’t.

      At all.

      I put the empty Scotch tumbler down on the low table in front of the couch and met her gaze.

      She had those pretty, slender fingers wrapped around her glass, and I had to drag my focus away from them, my brain helpfully replaying memories of how those fingers had felt stroking my cock through my jeans, then adding fantasies of how good they’d feel if there were no denim between us. If they were wrapped around my dick...

       Focus, arsehole.

      ‘Fine, you want to know why I want those particular islands?’ I didn’t bother adjusting my surly tone. ‘Because my half-brother, Sebastian Dumont, also wants them and I don’t want him to have them.’

      Ellie frowned, studying me over the rim of her glass. She still had her chauffeur’s cap on and there was something vaguely endearing about how she was sitting there so primly in her uniform in a dark club with thumping music.

      ‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘So why don’t you want him to have them? I mean, I have four brothers, so I sort of understand.’

      Yes, she might. Then again, her family had a certain level of privilege. Her father built supercars, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t do that without money, regardless of his financial difficulties now.

      She