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Serge waited, dark green eyes steady on her, his hand extended in a gesture to have her join him.
‘Okay, Slugger—spill.’ She sashayed up to him and slid her hand into his as if she accompanied wealthy, powerful men into hotels every day of the week.
‘This sports management gig—who in heck do you manage?’
‘Not who, kisa, what.’ His expression was indulgent, as if she entertained him. ‘I own a corporation that broadcasts and hosts boxing and mixed martial arts fights.’
Clementine batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That’s—wow.’
‘I’m getting an impressed vibe from you, Clementine.’
The entire twelve hours of the flight—half of which she had slept—Serge had been an exemplary host, seeing to her needs before retreating behind his laptop and work. But she was definitely getting a more playful Serge now that they were on terra firma.
He ushered her into the elevator and the doors closed out the rest of the world. Serge’s shoulders rose up in front of her and Clementine couldn’t see anything else but him.
‘Where I come from your line of business translates as very blokey. It explains a lot.’
And there it was—that little private smile he’d been waiting for.
He gently twined her hair over her shoulder and said quietly, close to her ear, ‘And what does it explain, Clementine?’
She shivered in response. ‘All the testosterone. That’s why you were able to beat off those guys. You knew what you were doing.’ Her own voice had grown hushed. She looked up at him.
‘Since meeting you, kisa, it’s been the only thing I’ve been sure of doing.’ His admission, meant only to tease her, suddenly hit him as absolute fact.
She batted those lashes more slowly. ‘You’re not sure of me, Slugger?’
‘Clementine, I have a feeling no man has ever been sure of you.’
His hand moved around her waist. He leaned in and gave her a moment to accept he was going to kiss her, and then his mouth was suddenly hot and moving fast against her own, opening her up with his tongue, tasting her, giving her no time to back away.
He hauled her up against him and Clementine turned to liquid heat. She moaned helplessly and slid her arms up around his neck, powerless against the feelings he was stoking in her. His body felt so hard against her own, and the slide of his tongue over her lower lip found an answering pulse deep down inside her. It was almost too much.
The doors slid open with a soft ping and Serge broke their kiss. It had only lasted a matter of moments, but it felt like for ever, and Clementine couldn’t believe she’d got so carried away from one kiss. Mouth trembling, nipples pressing tight and hot against the lace of her bra, she pulled at her dress. The silk jersey had risen up over her thighs and her hair felt tangled and messy from his hands.
She watched him use a keycard on the door, trying to clear her head. She hadn’t known a kiss could undo her, and suddenly all her certainty about what she was doing began to fall away.
Serge ushered her inside, his hand on the small of her back. She needed to keep a clear head if she was going to navigate these waters. ‘Wow,’ she said inadequately as she stepped into sheer luxury. ‘This is—incredible.’
The extravagance of the hotel suite was another reminder of exactly who Serge was. A rich man. Who could buy a great deal to keep himself happy. No doubt including women.
But not this woman. She needed to make that very clear to him. Somehow.
‘I’m not that impressed, you know, Slugger. Money doesn’t do it for me.’
‘What does do it for you, Clementine?’ He was smiling at her, that big, lazy Russian male smile, as if he knew something she didn’t.
‘Honesty,’ she replied. ‘Sincerity.’
The smile darkened to something else. She’d surprised him.
Her pulse was going thumpity-thumpity as she made her way slowly through the rooms—the living area, the dining room with seating for twenty-four, past the baby grand. She stopped to run her fingers down an octave.
‘You play, kisa?’
‘By ear.’ She lifted her gaze to his heated expression and a rush of sweet arousal washed through her body. ‘I’m a quick study.’
She backed away from the piano, realised Serge was measuring her with his gaze. She needed to keep her wits about her with this man. She needed to keep up the banter, hold him off a little longer until she got herself back under control. Beckoning to him with one manicured finger, she fashioned a smile. ‘Come on, Slugger, we’ll see what else we can find.’
Her heart was pounding as she strolled into the bedroom, knowing her big Siberian tiger was following.
