Gold Coast Angels: How to Resist Temptation. Amy AndrewsЧитать онлайн книгу.
twice.’
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. She quirked a sexy arched eyebrow at him.
She wouldn’t, would she?
Cade swallowed and reached for his collar, the stage lights suddenly hot again on his skin. Please, he implored with his eyes.
Please.
He wished he could speak. Tell her he’d pay her back—every cent. It would be worth the ridiculous amount of cash to keep Natalie’s particular brand of desperation out of his life. She was a nice woman and a competent doctor but she just wasn’t for him—no woman was—and encouraging her in any way, shape or form was asking for trouble.
Callie saw the moment his bravado faltered and uncertainty once again ruled his gaze. Humility. Atta boy.
‘Five one,’ she said, as the emcee opened her mouth again and raised her gavel.
The crowd was too busy gasping and murmuring to notice Cade’s ever-so-slight shoulder sag and the relaxing of his jaw, but Callie did. Their gazes met and the I owe you in his eyes was clear.
So, she hoped, was the damn right in hers.
‘Miss?’
The emcee was addressing Natalie, and Callie, along with the rest of the ballroom, looked at the willowy blonde with bated breath. A cold blast of hostility lobbed her way as Natalie’s mouth tightened. She shook her head at the emcee, conceding defeat, and Callie admired her restraint. Someone who set a limit and stuck to it had ironclad impulse control.
It wasn’t something she’d ever been known for—her rash propositioning of Cade being one good case in point. Tonight was an even better one! She hadn’t even planned to bid and now she was out of pocket five grand.
Cade Coleman owed her for sure!
With no other bidders the auction wrapped up quickly and the entire ballroom stood and clapped as Cade sauntered off the stage and headed for Callie. When he got to her table he reached for her hand and kissed it in a very European manner.
Callie couldn’t deny, as his lips brushed her knuckles, how very Prince Charming it was.
‘Thank you,’ he said over the noise of their applauding audience, a camera flash or two adding to a Hollywood feel. ‘I am in your debt.’
Callie gave him a half smile but kept her tone brisk. ‘You have no idea.’
He grinned as the band struck up a number and the clapping eased. ‘How about we discuss that a little further on the dance floor?’
Their hands still clasped, Callie glanced over at the rapidly filling space. There wouldn’t be a lot of room to move out there. She wasn’t keen to revisit the memories of the last time she’d suggested they dance or whatever, in particular the rather humiliating way it had ended. ‘Do you think that’s such a good idea after last time?’
‘I think we’re a little past that now, aren’t we?’
Were they? Callie could easily recall the embarrassment even if he couldn’t. Maybe he was so used to women coming on to him they all just melded into one. But he was right. They’d worked together since then and had slowly moved into friendlier territory. Hell, they lived on the same floor of the same apartment complex.
Clearly, he wasn’t holding that night against her so why should she?
Plus, they were both adults. No matter how persistent that itch had become beneath the touch of his lips and the nearness of his broad male frame.
She inclined her head, conscious of their audience. ‘One dance,’ she murmured.
Cade put his hand on her back as he ushered her past tables and through the milling crowd onto the dance floor. He resolutely ignored the way her clingy, emerald-green dress dipped low at the back and how her rich Titian hair, piled high in a curly mass on her head, exposed her nape and the fascinating indentations of her spine.
They took up position towards the outside and, as the song was slow, he slid one hand onto her waist and the other captured hers. They didn’t speak and she stared resolutely over his shoulder at some point behind him, but he was conscious of the curve of her hip, the shift of her body beneath his palm and the heady aroma of frangipani as they moved together.
Someone jostled them from behind and his hand automatically slid to the small of her back as their bodies moved a little closer to accommodate the restricted space. Her hair brushed his cheek, as soft as a petal and, as something primal stirred in the vicinity of his groin, Cade was suddenly conscious of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
Of how much he missed it.
The Sophie debacle had sent him packing both physically and emotionally as he’d fled first to the opposite side of the USA and then the opposite side of the world. And he’d convinced himself that he was done with women and dating.
That his career came first.
Yet one dance with Callie Richards was making a mockery of all that.
‘I’ll write you a cheque first thing in the morning,’ he said, suddenly uncomfortable about owing her anything.
Callie’s eyes fluttered closed as his breath stirred the hair at her temple and his accent slithered down her spine and tingled where his palm held her fast. She pulled back slightly until she was looking into his eyes. Light brown with tawny flecks. Like amber. Like whisky.
‘You think I can’t afford five grand?’ she challenged.
Cade’s gaze was drawn briefly to the way the subdued light from the magnificent overhead chandeliers glowed in the rich emerald of her eyes before being distracted by her mouth. Her lipstick was a deep scarlet and seemed to beckon with a simmering but subdued sexuality. ‘I didn’t say that.’
Callie shrugged. ‘It’s a damn good cause. I’d be a lousy representative of the hospital I work at and the unit I love if I didn’t show my support in some way.’
‘Five thousand bucks is a little extreme,’ Cade said dryly.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Callie said, settling back to peer over his shoulder again as his raw masculine scent found its way past her usually impenetrable veneer. ‘I’ll consider it my public service for the year. Plus, I’m thinking it might be good to have you in my debt.’
Cade grimaced as her hair brushed his cheek again. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
Callie laughed at the dread in his voice. She didn’t like to give anyone control over her life, either. A disastrous teenage marriage had taught her that. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said as the occasional brush of Cade’s thighs caused her pulse to flutter, ‘I’ll wield my power wisely.’
Cade snorted—screw that. He’d avoided dating since his arrival in Australia, but obligation was to be avoided even more. ‘How about we just get it over and done with?’ he suggested. ‘You paid five thousand dollars to go out on a date with me so…let’s do it.’
Callie shut her eyes, trying to tune in to the music rather than the slow thick pounding of her pulse at his ‘let’s do it’. He didn’t mean it, and she had no desire to go out on a date with him. Mind-blowing, head-banging sex, sure, but he’d already made it perfectly clear that any horizontal recreation was off the table. And she just didn’t do the whole dating thing.
‘I don’t date,’ she said.
Cade frowned. ‘What do you mean, you don’t date?’ Wasn’t that what women wanted?
‘I don’t date,’ Callie repeated, as she once again pulled back to look at him. ‘Haven’t since my teens. I refuse to. Like you, it would seem.’
Cade wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d spent his entire adult life dating women as a way into