The Wedding Contract. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
practically bolted from the car as he pulled up outside the carnival and shut off the engine.
‘Hey, wait up.’ He strode after her, his long strides eating up the ground, her high heels no match for them. He caught her at the Ferris wheel.
‘Goodnight. See you in the morning.’ Her gaze flickered past him and a huge smile lit up her face. ‘Time to pack it in, Stan?’
Wishing that special smile was for him, he turned and saw a wizened old man doffing a moth-eaten hat that had seen better days. ‘Evenin’, miss. Yeah, it’s about that time.’
Steve looked back at her and raised an eyebrow, angling for an introduction. She got the message. ‘Stan, I’d like you to meet Steve Rockwell.’
Stan thrust out a hand. ‘Pleased to meet ya. Any lad of this young lady is a friend of mine.’
Steve stifled a grin and shook the old guy’s hand, not daring to look at Amber.
‘Oh, he’s not my lad, Stan. He’s just a—’ She bit back what she’d been about to say and he knew why. If the carnival was about to close down, she wouldn’t want the employees to know a lawyer was sniffing around.
He stepped in quickly. ‘An old friend.’
She cast him a grateful look and he pushed home his momentary advantage. ‘I’ve never been for a ride on one of these, you know.’
She frowned as Stan immediately took Steve’s hint. ‘Well, then, sir, hop aboard. Nothing like it in the world when you’re up the top, swaying in the breeze, holding onto your sweetheart’s hand.’ Stan winked as he opened a side-door to one of the chairs.
Steve could have sworn he heard Amber snort as he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. ‘Come on, sweetheart. It’ll be fun.’
‘Oh, yeah, a real barrel of laughs.’ She tugged free of his hand but followed him in.
He hadn’t lied when he’d said he’d never been on a Ferris wheel before. If he’d known how snug the seats were he’d have taken all his girlfriends for a ride.
With Amber’s thigh pressed against his and her signature scent enveloping him, he knew this was the best idea he’d had in a long time.
‘You could have set the record straight with Stan.’
‘What? And disillusion the old guy? Have a heart.’
She tried to shift away from him, which set the chair swinging. ‘He’s not used to me bringing guys around.’
He slid an arm around her shoulders, surprised yet thankful she didn’t shrug it off. ‘A girl like you should have men falling at her feet. Why don’t you bring any of them home?’
‘They’re not important enough.’
Jealousy stabbed at his gut, swift and sharp, at the thought of Amber with other men. Ludicrous, as he’d known her for less than twenty-four hours. He pushed his luck. ‘Ever been on a ride with any of them before?’
She turned to face him and his heart pounded, a totally irrational response from an organ he controlled with precision when it came to the fairer sex.
‘This is a first.’ Her soft words were whipped away by the wind as the wheel slowed and finally stopped, leaving them perched at the top.
However, he didn’t have time to appreciate the view when a gorgeous woman like Amber stared up at him with a mouth just begging to be kissed.
‘Don’t you just love new experiences?’ he murmured, as he brushed her lips in a feather-light kiss.
A light sigh escaped her lips as they parted. He nibbled her bottom lip before easing his tongue into her mouth, challenging her to match him thrust for thrust. She didn’t disappoint and their tongues duelled, firing his rising passion to new heights. As she returned his kiss all sense fled. He shouldn’t be doing this. She was the daughter of the opposition, she was trouble, she was business. However, as she moaned, all he could think about was the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of her delicious mouth flowering under his.
He cupped one hand behind her neck, drawing her closer, deepening the kiss with possessive thoroughness. She tasted tart and sweet, just as he’d anticipated, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never understood the crazy, head-over-heels physical-attraction thing, preferring to choose his women with calculated precision for what they could do for him rather than acting on lustful impulse. Until now.
Amber’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she arched towards him. God, she was practically offering herself to him, and he couldn’t do much more than kiss her, perched this far off the ground. He would give anything for a bed right about now.
Before he could think, his free hand slid up her bare thigh, as it had itched to do all night, creating a trail of tiny goose-bumps beneath his touch.
‘Whoa!’ She pulled away as his hand almost reached its target.
He stared at her, not moving an inch.
‘I think this belongs to you.’ She grasped his wayward hand and placed it firmly in his lap before tugging her skirt down. ‘Time to go down.’
‘Thought you’d never offer,’ he mumbled, turning away from her and staring at the distant twinkle of city lights illuminating the horizon, wishing for a fickle wind to flip the flimsy skirt she wore. Every time she’d reached for the skirt-edge during the evening he’d wanted to still her hand, hoping it would ride up farther.
She stiffened beside him but didn’t reply. At that moment the wheel started up again and they drifted back down to earth in silence.
She bolted from the chair as soon as Stan raised the bar.
‘Thanks, Stan. It was great.’ He shook the old man’s hand.
‘I’m sure it was, Mr Rockwell. See ya round.’ They grinned like co-conspirators before Steve took off after Amber.
He always seemed to be chasing after her—something he never did with women. Usually they trailed after him, impressed by his wealth and status. So what was it about this woman that had him running around in circles?
She stopped as he grabbed her arm. ‘I’ll see you in the morning?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ She glared at him, gold flecks glinting in the moonlight.
‘It was just a kiss, dammit. Don’t get so wound up.’
‘Who says I’m wound up?’ She backed away from him ever so slightly.
He loved her defiance, etched into every aspect of her body language. ‘You’re tighter than a coiled spring ready to snap.’
‘And you’re a lousy judge of character. Good-night.’ She spun on her heel and stalked away.
He pondered her parting jibe. Contrary to her opinion, one of his greatest skills was reading people and their motives. And he was damn good at it too. Then why hadn’t he figured her out yet?
‘Pleasant dreams,’ he called out, already looking forward to the next day, eager to match wits once again with the enchanting Amber.
She ignored him, a relatively novel experience for his ego.
He chuckled, aiming to change all that, starting first thing in the morning.
CHAPTER THREE
AS SOON as Steve entered his hotel room he noticed the red blinking light on the phone, indicating he had a message. Perhaps it was Amber, giving him another serve before she went to bed?
Surprisingly, it was his mother, urging him to call as soon as possible, regardless of the time. He dialled the number, not in the mood for one of his mother’s famous tirades. What had he done or not done this time?
She answered on the