Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
her, but once he’d tasted her, she’d been so delicious, her response so artlessly seductive, he’d been consumed by the desire to taste more, like a starving man at a banquet, desperate to tuck in. The sound of her shocked little sighs as he’d stroked her thigh, the weight of her plump breasts pillowed against his chest, and the sultry Christmas scent of her hair had been so damned erotic he’d been rock hard in seconds. She’d been slick and wet and ready for him and the feel of her contracting around his fingers had nearly made him come in his pants. He’d had to use every last ounce of his control not to rip her clothes off and bury himself deep inside her. All thoughts of Helen’s stupid party and the reasons why he’d flown three and a half thousand miles across the Atlantic had shot right out of his head. The desire to stay in the suite and spend the time devouring Cassie Fitzgerald instead had been all but irresistible. Which was exactly why he’d resisted it.
He should have won an Oscar for the performance he’d given, pretending he wasn’t as affected as he looked. But he’d forced himself to hold back. Because he’d learned from experience that losing control and rushing into sex was never a good idea. He didn’t do that any more and—once he’d managed to get his blood pressure back out of the danger zone—he’d remembered why.
Taking her to Helen’s party for an hour had presented the perfect way to curb his lust without risking her running off. And seeing Helen again would bring him face to face with all the reasons why he couldn’t afford to let his guard down with any woman—even one as apparently guileless as Cassie.
Given all of that, it shouldn’t matter that she’d assumed the worst of him. He’d stopped caring about other people’s opinions when he was a boy—when he’d figured out that it really made no difference what he did, they would always think the worst. But even Helen’s constant and completely unfounded accusations of infidelity hadn’t bothered him as much as the disappointment and resignation he could see in Cassie’s wide blue eyes.
He didn’t know Cassie and he didn’t want to know her other than in a purely physical sense. The only connection they shared was a live-wire sexual chemistry that would soon burn out, once they’d both had their fill of each other. But even so, he couldn’t quite deny the knot of tension in his shoulders.
‘I’m not in a relationship,’ he replied, struggling to keep his voice casual. ‘And I wouldn’t be trying to seduce you if I were.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to imply …’ she cleared her throat ‘ … that you weren’t honourable.’
The earnest statement was so sincere, he laughed, the tension dissolving as quickly as it had come. Settling his other hand on her waist, he dragged her closer. The movement tightened the seat belt under her breast and drew his gaze down to the enticing swell of her cleavage.
‘Cassie, the one thing I’ve never been is honourable.’ He pressed his face into her hair, let his lips linger on the fluttering pulse beneath her ear. ‘If you had any idea how I plan to take advantage of you later tonight, you’d know exactly how dishonourable I am.’
She gave a husky little laugh that had his insides twisting into knots of a different kind. She tilted her head back; her bright gaze met his. ‘I don’t remember agreeing to come back with you tonight.’
‘Yeah, but you will,’ he said, his confidence returning full force as he saw her tongue dart out to wet her bottom lip. His palm rode down the curve of her hip, then snuck under her coat to caress the top of her thigh. ‘How about I remind you how persuasive I can be?’
She grabbed his wrist, brought it firmly back to her waist. ‘Let’s not,’ she said, her lips tilting in a nervous smile. ‘We wouldn’t want to shock the chauffeur.’
He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. ‘Wouldn’t we?’
She wiggled her eyebrows at him playfully. ‘Not while he’s driving.’
As if on cue, the screen slid down and the man in question spoke. ‘We’ve arrived at the restaurant, Mr Ryan.’
‘That was quick.’ Too damn quick.
‘Traffic was surprisingly light tonight, sir,’ the driver replied.
Releasing the catch on Cassie’s seat belt, Jace took her hand in his. ‘Don’t bother to get out, Dave,’ he said through the partition.
Opening the car door, he stepped out, tugging Cassie out behind him.
‘See you back here in an hour,’ he said to the chauffeur as he closed the car door. An hour should be more than sufficient to calm himself down and make sure he was completely in control of this situation before he jumped Cassie again.
Cassie shivered as the car accelerated away. Sliding his palms under the opening of her coat, he placed a quick kiss on her forehead below her hairline. He wasn’t risking going anywhere near her lips again until they had some privacy. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
Taking her hand firmly in his, he strode towards the entrance to the restaurant, impatience in every stride as he listened to the tap of her boot heels against the paving stones.
Taking a time-out to slow things down had been the smart thing to do, but right now, with a whole hour ahead of him before he could get her naked, he couldn’t help wishing he’d been a lot more stupid.
Erotic anticipation rippled through Cassie’s system as she stepped out into the lobby of the Tower’s eighth floor. Her skin felt tight and itchy, and her pulse pounded against her throat like a metronome as Jace’s masculine scent teased her nostrils, and his rough palm squeezed hers. Tonight would be an adventure that she intended to enjoy. For once she wasn’t going to worry about tomorrow, she was going to concentrate on now.
Relax. Enjoy.
She repeated Nessa’s mantra in her head. Then let out a staggered breath as Jace led her into a panoramic rooftop bar, its sleek lines and streamlined elegance reminding her of a vintage thirties ocean liner. Strobes of blue fluorescent light reflected off the forty-foot bar’s steel panelling and illuminated a crowd dressed in everything from exclusive ball gowns and designer suits to artfully ripped denim. The loud buzz of conversation and the clink of glasses were only partially masked by the backing beat of drums and bass-guitar riffs coming from a live band at the far end of the room. Cassie’s astonished gaze riveted on the wall of glass to her left, which framed a breathtaking view of the Thames’ North Bank and the City of London beyond. The majesty of St Paul’s Cathedral dome spotlit in the frosty twilight broke up the geometric shapes of the City’s glaringly modern financial district.
Cassie hesitated, her fingers flexing in Jace’s hand. ‘Wow, no wonder this place is so popular.’
His grip tightened. ‘Yeah,’ he said, not sounding very impressed. ‘Helen always knew how to throw a party.’
‘Who’s Helen?’ she asked. But before she got a reply, Jace stiffened beside her. His jaw clenched as a tall woman in floating red silk made her way through the crowd towards them. The woman’s figure was so thin and delicate, her collarbone stood out against the wispy straps of her gown. Either she was a supermodel or she had an eating disorder. Cassie opted for the former as she glided closer, deciding that her striking face, all high cheekbones, almond eyes and collagen-stung lips, could easily have graced the cover of a fashion magazine.
Dropping Cassie’s hand, Jace placed his palm on her hip to anchor her to his side. And she heard him swear under his breath.
‘Hello, lover boy,’ the woman said breathlessly as she drew level, her six-inch heels bringing her almost eye-level with Jace, and making Cassie feel like a midget. ‘Long time, no see.’ A cloud of expensive perfume engulfed Cassie as the woman leaned into him and pressed postbox-red lips to his. Her mouth lingered on his a moment too long for the kiss to be mistaken for platonic. Cassie wondered if she’d just become invisible.
Jace grasped the women’s waist, deliberately setting her away from him. ‘Where the hell is Bryan?’ he asked, his tone frigid.
‘That’s