Rumours on the Red Carpet

She gave a wary start. ‘Your turn to do what...?’ she prompted huskily.

Those chiselled lips curled into a derisive smile as he obviously heard the tremble in her voice. ‘Ask you a question.’

She moistened dry lips. ‘Which is...?’

‘Cyn, if you don’t stop looking at me like that then I’m going to have to stop the elevator and take you right now.’

As if to back up his statement he pressed a button and halted the lift’s descent, before crossing the floor with all the grace of the predator he undoubtedly was and standing just inches in front of her.

Thia’s eyes had widened, both at his actions and at the raw desire she could hear beneath the harshness of his tone. ‘I—you can’t just stop the lift like that...!’

‘I believe I already did,’ he dismissed arrogantly.

Thia found herself totally unable to look away from the intensity of that glittering silver gaze as Lucien looked down at her from between narrowed lids, her cheeks flushed, her heart beating wildly—apprehensively?—in her chest. ‘I—that wasn’t a question, either.’

‘No.’

She winced. ‘How was I looking at you...?’

‘As if you’d like to rip my clothes from my body before wrapping your legs about my waist as I push you up against the wall and take you!’ His voice was a low and urgent rasp.

Thia’s breath caught in her throat as she imagined herself doing any or all of those things, her cheeks flushing, burning. ‘I don’t think—’

‘It’s probably better if you don’t.’

Lucien Steele’s gaze continued to hold hers captive.

She stepped away instinctively, only to feel her back pressing up against the mirrored wall. Lucien Steele dogged her steps until he again stood mere inches away from her and slowly raised his hands to place them on the mirror either side of her head. Lowering his head, he stared down at her with those compelling silver eyes, causing Thia to once again moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue.

‘I advise you not to do that again unless you’re willing to take the consequences!’ he rasped harshly.

Thia’s tongue froze on her parted lips as she was once again beset by the feeling of being trapped in the headlights of a car—or, more accurately, the glittering compulsion of Lucien Steele’s gaze.

Her throat moved as she swallowed before speaking. ‘Consequences?’

He nodded abruptly. ‘I’d be more than willing to participate in your fantasy.’ His jaw was tight, and desire gleamed in his eyes.

It was a depth of desire Thia had never encountered before, and one that caused her breath to hitch in her throat and her skin to flush with heat: a single-minded depth of desire that made her feel like running for the hills!

‘What’s Miller to you?’ Lucien Steele prompted abruptly.

She blinked long dark lashes. ‘Is that your question?’

He bared his teeth in a parody of a smile as he nodded. ‘Contrary to my Apache ancestor, I make it a rule never to take another man’s woman.’

‘‘Take another man’s’—!’ She frowned. ‘You really are something of a barbarian, aren’t you?’

Rather than feeling insulted at the accusation, as she had intended, Lucien Steele instead bared his teeth in a wolfish smile. ‘You have no idea.’

Oh, yes, Thia definitely had an idea. More than an idea. And her response to this man’s raw sexuality terrified the life out of her. Almost as much as it aroused her...

‘Cyn?’ Lucien pressed forcefully.

She shrugged bare shoulders, those ivory breasts swelling invitingly against her gown. ‘I already told you—Jonathan is just a friend—’

‘A friend who had no hesitation in hurting you?’ Lucien glared his displeasure as he looked down to where dark smudges were already appearing on the smooth paleness of her arm. Her wrist was still slightly red too. ‘Who left his mark on you?’ he added harshly as he gave in to the temptation to brush his fingertips gently over those darkening smudges.

‘Yes...’ Her bottom lip trembled, as if she were on the verge of crying. ‘I’ve never seen him behave like that before. He was out of control...’ She gave a dazed shake of her head. ‘He’s never behaved aggressively with me before,’ she insisted dully.

‘That’s something, I suppose.’ Lucien nodded abruptly.

‘I—would you please restart the lift now...?’ Those tears were trembling on the tips of her long dark lashes, threatening to overflow.

He was scaring her, damn it!

Because this—his coming on to her so strongly—was too much, too soon after Miller’s earlier aggression.

Or just maybe, despite what she might claim to the contrary, her relationship with Miller wasn’t as innocent as she claimed it to be...?

In Lucien’s experience no woman was as ingenuous as Cyn Hammond appeared to be. Her ingenuousness had encouraged him to reveal more about himself and his family in the last five minutes than he had told anyone for a very long time. Not that Lucien was ashamed of his heritage—it was what it was. It was his private life in general that he preferred to keep exactly that—private.

He straightened abruptly before stepping back. ‘A word of advice, Cyn—you should stay well away from Miller in future. He’s bad news.’

Her expression sharpened. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I believe you’ve more than used up your quota of questions for one evening.’ His expression was grim.

‘But you seem to know something I don’t—’

‘I’m sure I know a lot of things you don’t, Cyn,’ he rasped with finality, before turning to press the button to restart the elevator.

‘Thank you,’ Cyn breathed softly as it resumed its soundless descent.

‘I didn’t do it for you.’ Lucien gave a hard, dismissive smile. ‘The elevator has been stopped between floors for so long now Dex is probably imagining you’ve assassinated me.’

Thia frowned. ‘Is it a defence mechanism, or are you really this arrogant and rude?’

His gaze was hooded as he answered her. ‘Quite a bit of the latter and a whole lot of the former.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ She nodded, able to breathe a little easier now that he wasn’t standing quite so close to her. Well...perhaps not easier. Lucien Steele’s presence was still so overpowering that Thia challenged anyone, man or woman, to be completely relaxed in his company.

He put his hand beneath her elbow again as the lift came to a stop, the doors opening and allowing the two of them to step out into the marble foyer of the luxurious Manhattan apartment building.

Thia’s eyes widened as she saw Dex was already there, waiting for them. ‘How did you...?’

‘Service elevator,’ the man supplied tersely, dismissively, his censorious glance fixed on his employer.

‘Stop looking so disapproving, Dex,’ Lucien Steele drawled. ‘I checked before getting in the elevator: there’s absolutely nowhere that Miss Hammond could hide a knife or a gun beneath that figure-hugging gown.’