The Ultimate Playboy

One beautifully winged brow rose. ‘You need to go.’

‘Yes.’

‘And where exactly do you intend to go?’

She frowned. ‘Back to my hotel, of course.’

He slowly lowered his arm. ‘I thought you understood your role here,’ he murmured coolly.

Icy foreboding shivered down her spine. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means, the moment the last guest arrived, the whole building went into lock down. You’re stuck here with me until tomorrow at six.’ He discarded the canister and stepped closer. ‘And I have the perfect idea of how we can pass the time.’

* * *

Narciso watched a myriad expressions dart over her face.

Excitement. Anxiety. Suspicion.

Two of those three weren’t what he expected from a woman when he announced they were effectively locked in together. Most women would be salivating at the thought and making themselves available before he changed his mind.

Not this one.

Even the hint of excitement was fading. Now she just looked downright frightened.

He frowned. ‘I expected a more enthusiastic response.’

Her gaze went to the watch—his watch—then back to his face. Narciso decided not to think about why the sight of his large watch on her delicate wrist pleased him so much.

He would gift it to her. She could keep it on during sex. Once he’d dispelled that unacceptable look from her face.

‘You just told me I can’t leave. And you expect me to be excited?’

‘You have some of the world’s richest and most influential men gathered in one place. Everyone who attends these events has the same agenda—network hard and party harder, especially the Petit Qs. You, on the other hand, are acting as if you’ve received a prison sentence. Why?’

Her eyelids lowered and she grabbed the lapels of her coat.

Faint alarm bells rang at the back of his mind. Going against a habit of a lifetime, he forced himself to ignore it as she raised those delicate lids to lock gazes with him.

Her sapphire-blue eyes held a combination of boldness and shyness that hugely intrigued him. She wanted something but wasn’t quite sure how to get it.

He had every intention of showing her how to get exactly what she wanted once he got her to his suite upstairs. He might even tempt her into using the velvet ropes that held back his emperor-size bed’s drapes...

Desire slammed into him with a force he hadn’t experienced in years...if ever. The strength of it struck him dumb for a few seconds before he realised she was speaking.

‘...knew about the club, of course, and that my hostessing gig was for two days. I didn’t know I’d be staying here for the duration.’

‘Ah, one small piece of advice. Always read the small print.’

Her delicious mouth pursed. He had the sudden, clamouring urge to find out if it tasted as succulent as it looked. Her narrowed-eyed glare stopped him. Barely.

‘I always do. I can’t say the same for other people though. Especially people who have the small print pointed out to them and still wilfully ignore it.’

The alarm bells grew louder. ‘That’s decidedly...pointed. Care to elaborate?’

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. ‘I’m cold. Can we leave?’

‘That’s an excellent idea.’ He walked her to the door of the ice bar and helped her out of her coat.

The sight of her hardened nipples—an effect of the sub-zero temperature—fried a few million brain cells. That clawing hunger gutted him further, making him fight to remember whether he was coming or going.

Going. Definitely. Up to his allocated suite with this woman who sparked a reaction within him that left him reeling, and wanting more. He hadn’t wanted anything this badly for a long time. Not since his eleventh birthday...

He shut off his thoughts and walked her to the lift, absurdly pleased when she didn’t protest. Perhaps she’d accepted the inevitable.

They were meant to be together. Here in this place where the events of earlier this evening with Giacomo had nearly soured his experience.

She would take away the bitterness for a while. Take away his unsettling hollowness when he’d held the old man’s financial demise in his grasp but hadn’t taken it.

All would be better in the morning.

For tonight, he intended to seek the most delicious oblivion.

‘Should I bother to ask where you’re taking me now?’

His smile felt tight and his body on edge. ‘No. Don’t bother. What you should ask is how many ways will I make you like what’s coming next.’ He activated the electronic panel. When the chrome panel slid back to reveal the row of buttons he selected the fiftieth floor for his penthouse suite.

‘If you’re planning to throw a few more millions away, then I’d rather not watch.’ Again there was that censorious note in her voice that strummed his instincts.

From experience he knew women always had hidden agendas, be it the urge to make themselves indispensable in his life the moment he so much as smiled their way or to take advantage of his power and influence—as well as his body—for as long as possible.

But the woman in front of him was exhibiting none of those traits. And yet there was something... Narciso didn’t like the mixed signals he was receiving from her.

‘Have we met before?’ he demanded abruptly, although he was sure he would have remembered. She had an unforgettable body, and that mouth... He was absolutely certain he would have remembered that mouth.

‘Met? No, of course not. Besides, I don’t know who you are, remember?’

‘If you don’t know who I am then how do you know we haven’t met before?’

Her eyes shifted away from his. ‘I...don’t know. I just think a man like you...I’d have remembered...that’s all.’

He smiled at her flustered response, deciding he definitely liked her flustered. ‘I like that you think I’m unforgettable. I aim to make that thought a permanent reality for you.’

‘Trust me, you already have,’ she quipped.

Narciso got the distinct impression it wasn’t a compliment.

He stepped forward. She stepped back. Her eyes widened when she realised she was trapped against the wall of the lift. His pulse thundered when her gaze darted to his mouth and then back to his eyes.