Powerful and Proud: Beneath the Veil of Paradise / In the Heat of the Spotlight / His Brand of Passion

‘No, Scary, you’re doing that all on your own. You’re the one who wants to have some hurried grope and then brush yourself off and move on with life.’

‘I never said that.’

‘Am I wrong?’

She looked away. ‘It wouldn’t have to be hurried.’

‘What is this, some milestone? First time you’ll have had sex since you broke up with your long-time boyfriend?’

She kept her gaze on the sea, frills of white amidst the endless blue. ‘No.’

‘Divorce?’

‘No.’

He sighed. ‘Something, though, right?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Fine. You don’t want to tell me. No messy details.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But I’m telling you I’m not interested in some soulless, sordid transaction. If you want that, hire an escort service. Or go hang out in the bar for a little while longer. Someone will pay or play.’

She blinked and set her jaw. ‘As tempting as that sounds, I’m not interested.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because—’ She hesitated. She felt as if he were stripping away her defences, and yet she didn’t know how he was doing it. She kept darting around to cover her bases, but they were already gone. ‘Because I don’t want that.’

He leaned forward, his voice a soft, seductive whisper. ‘What do you want, Millie?’

Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze towards him. His eyes glittered gold and the wind ruffled his hair. He looked completely gorgeous and so utterly sure. ‘I want you.’

He held her gaze, triumph blazing in his eyes, a smile curving his mouth. Damn it. Why had she said that? Admitted so much?

‘And I want you,’ he told her in a low, lazy murmur. ‘Rather a lot. But I want to be more than a milestone, and so we’re doing this my way.’

More than a milestone. Already she was in over her head. She’d been so stupid, convincing herself that she could handle Chase, that he’d agree to some one-night stand. On the surface, he should have. But from the moment she’d met him he’d never been what she’d thought he was. What she wanted him to be.

So why had she pursued this? Why was she still here, still wanting to do this deal? Did she really want him that much?

Yes.

‘Fine. We’ll do it your way. But I want to know what that is first.’

His smile turned to a pie-eating grin. ‘Nope.’

‘Nope?’

‘Nope. Information is given on a need-to-know basis only.’

Her fingers tightened on her bottle of water, her knuckles aching. ‘I need to know, Chase.’

‘I’ll decide that.’

She could not believe how horribly autocratic and arrogant he was being. She could not believe she was taking it. Why on earth was she not telling him to piss off and take her back to the shore? Was there some sick, depraved little girl inside her who wanted to be told what to do?

Or did she just want him that much?

Yes, she did.

‘Fine,’ she said, forming the word through stiff lips. He nodded, no more. She took a sip of water to ease the dryness in her throat. ‘So what now?’ she asked once she’d swallowed and felt able to speak again.

‘You take off your clothes.’

Her bottle of water slipped from her nerveless fingers and Chase reached forward to catch it.

‘Easy there, Scary. I was joking. Right now we relax, enjoy the sun and sea. I’ll let you know when clothes or lack thereof come into the equation.’

She shook her head slowly. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Doing what?’

‘Toying with me.’

He arched an eyebrow. ‘Is that what it feels like?’

‘Pretty much.’

He didn’t answer for a moment, just took a long swallow of water so she could see the brown column of his throat, the breadth of his chest tapering down to lean hips. He was beautiful. ‘Well,’ he finally said, his gaze meeting hers with too much knowledge, ‘I suppose it’s because you’ve been trying to toy with me.’

She took a startled step back. ‘I have not.’

‘Oh, really? You march over to my boat and practically demand to sleep with me. You think I’m just going to lie down and let you have your wicked way with me?’

‘No...not exactly.’

‘You think you can tell me how, when and where I’m going to have sex with you?’

‘That’s what you’re trying to do with me!’

‘Exactly. And I’m not going to be entered into your smart phone and then deleted when you’re done. I’m not a hedge fund, Millie. I’m not an account or a client or a to-do item to tick off. And, more importantly, neither is what’s between us.’

She felt as if he’d wrapped an iron band around her chest and squeezed. Breathing hurt. ‘There’s nothing between us.’

‘That is bull and you know it.’