Mistress Of Fortune. Kathie DeNoskyЧитать онлайн книгу.
never run from anything.”
At least, that was normally the case. But in this instance she wasn’t certain that standing her ground would be all that smart. Especially when Creed’s warning kept echoing in her ears—Blake wasn’t one to be trusted.
“Really? You aren’t nervous about the way I make you feel?”
Unable to make her vocal cords work, she shook her head.
He came to stand in front of her and as close as he was, if she drew in a breath—which wasn’t possible at that moment—her breasts would brush the front of his sports jacket. “If that’s true, Sasha, then why do you want to go back to Sioux Falls this evening? Why not stay and enjoy your weekend here?” His voice dropped when he added, “With me.”
She swallowed hard as she tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t refute her adamant denial. “I didn’t say I was going back tonight.”
“Then why did you pick up your suitcase and head for the door?” Before she could come up with a plausible excuse, he reached up to lightly chafe her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “You aren’t wanting to get back to see someone, are you?”
His light touch sent a tingling awareness skipping over every nerve in her body and she had to concentrate hard on what he’d just said. “N-no…I mean yes. That’s it. There’s someone I’d like to see.”
His deep chuckle let her know he wasn’t buying her excuse for a minute, but to her relief, he stepped away from her. “Did anyone ever tell you that you can’t lie worth a damn, sweetheart?”
Drawing in some much needed air, she trembled all over as anger streaked through her. “If you’ll remember, I’m here at your request for help with your promotion. Nothing more.”
As they stared at each other like two prize fighters sizing up their opponent, the phone on the bedside table rang several times before she finally reached over to answer it. She had no idea who the caller could be, but whomever it was, she definitely owed them a debt of gratitude.
“H-hello?”
“Sasha, are you all right?” Creed’s deep voice was a welcome sound.
“Hi, Creed. I’m fine. Why do you ask?” At the mention of his brother’s name, she watched Blake’s easy smile disappear and his eyes narrow dangerously.
“You sounded a little shook up when you answered the phone.” She heard him release a frustrated breath. “You know I don’t trust that son of a bitch. I guess I was reading something more into the tone of your voice than was there.”
“I suppose so,” she said, careful to keep her voice as noncommittal as possible. From the dark frown on Blake’s handsome face, he wasn’t happy to hear that his brother was on the other end of the line, nor did he intend to leave the room until she’d ended the phone call. “Was there something you needed, Creed?”
“Not really.” From the slight hesitancy in his voice, she could imagine his sheepish grin. “I was a little worried about you and I wanted to make sure you’re being treated well.”
“I am.”
“Good,” he said, sounding a little more at ease. “Just remember, if you have any problems all you have to do is give me a call. I’ll be more than happy to fly down to Deadwood and give that jerk an attitude adjustment.”
“Thank you, that means a lot, Creed.” She couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s concern. “I’ll see you Monday morning.”
When she hung up the phone, Blake’s expression was congenial enough, but there was a spark of anger in the depths of his blue gaze that sent a chill coursing through her. “Your boyfriend checking up on you?”
“Creed and I are good friends, but that’s as far as it goes,” she said, wondering why she felt the need to explain her relationship with his brother.
He stared at her for several more seconds before he spoke again. “I have a couple of things I need to take care of,” he finally said. “Change into something more casual and I’ll come back in about an hour to take you to dinner.”
“Is that an order, Mr. Fortune?” Her irritation with his high-handedness returned tenfold.
His expression became unreadable a moment before he shook his head and pointed to her black suit. “I just figured you’d want to trade your skirt and heels for something more comfortable.”
“There’s no need for you to come back up here. I’ll meet you downstairs in the restaurant,” she said when he turned to leave.
He looked as if he intended to say something. Instead, he gave her a short nod and without another word left the room.
When Sasha heard the outer door close, she finally released the breath she was certain she’d been holding from the moment they’d entered the suite. What on earth had she done? More importantly, why had she let Blake get to her?
She’d had every intention of leaving when they’d walked into the suite. And if she hadn’t let his goading rile her, she’d be on her way to the airfield at that very moment.
But no. She couldn’t leave well enough alone. He’d been so sure of himself, she’d taken up the challenge and had been determined to prove him wrong. Unfortunately, the only thing she’d accomplished was doing what he wanted her to do in the first place—to spend the weekend with him in Deadwood.
Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d gotten herself into. Or, more importantly, how she was going to get out of it.
The second Sasha stepped off the elevator and walked toward the entrance of the Golden Belle Restaurant, Blake watched several men in the lobby turn to stare at the auburn-haired beauty in the jade silk pantsuit. Her slender body moved with a sensual grace that he found absolutely fascinating and he took a moment to enjoy the view.
Blake was going to enjoy sharing a physical relationship with Sasha. The chemistry between them was utterly amazing. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. And her reaction to his touch, her breathlessness whenever he came near her, indicated that she found him to be every bit as compelling.
But he’d have to be careful not to put too much pressure on her, too soon. He’d have to take his time and romance her in order to prove that whatever Creed had told her about him had been erroneous.
Gritting his teeth at the thought of Creed’s interrupting phone call, Blake had to force himself to calm down. He’d thought that by acting like Creed, it would win her over. But it was clear she was tired of the bulldozer approach to romance.
All Blake had to do was change tactics, turn on the charm and Sasha would be his for the taking. He could be himself and old Creed would take care of the rest. Knowing his half brother the way he did, Blake was confident that Creed would keep reminding her of his suspicions, continue to make phone calls to check up on her and ultimately push her right into Blake’s waiting arms.
He smiled as he watched Sasha standing by the entrance to the restaurant, obviously waiting for him. She was a captivating woman and he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Apparently, the men who had turned to watch her walk across the lobby found her just as mesmerizing. One in particular caught Blake’s attention when the man approached Sasha to strike up a conversation.
For reasons he didn’t care to analyze, a wave of possessiveness shot through Blake and he wasted no time in moving in to stake his claim. “You’re late, sweetheart.” He met the interloper’s curious gaze with a cold smile as he slipped his arm around Sasha’s shoulders. “You’ll have to excuse us. We’re on our way to dinner.” He nodded toward the casino. “And I’m sure you’d like to get back to the action.”
The man returned Blake’s stare for several silent seconds, then lifting the drink he held, he nodded a silent concession. “Have a nice dinner.”