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‘Shall we cast a wager?’
She turned. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘A wager. On who will kiss whom first.’
‘You’re mad.’
‘Is that a yes?’
Lukas could hear the words coming out of his mouth and he couldn’t quite believe them. She’d aggravated him with the way she so easily froze him out. With the way she treated him as if he wasn’t worth bothering about. Printsessa and the nishchiy, he thought, and felt a muscle tick in his jaw. And the more she tried to mind her p’s and q’s with him, the more he wanted to run roughshod all over them.
‘No, it is not a yes.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t gamble.’
Neither did he. Not usually. ‘Live a little,’ he goaded.
His words were a little too close to Lulu’s and Eleanore wondered if she had some sign pinned to her forehead that said Boring.
She picked up the electric kettle and carried it to the sink to fill it. ‘I live just fine,’ she snapped, knowing there wasn’t anything he could offer her that would entice her to play such a stupid game with him. Not when she worked for him and it would be completely unprofessional. Heck, she could just envision Isabelle’s disapproval already.
‘How about if I kiss you first you can have Harrington’s name above the door of the hotel?’
Eleanore stilled. Looked back at him. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Why not?’
She couldn’t believe he would wager that. ‘And what happens if I kiss you first?’
‘Worried about your self-control, moya krasavitsa?’
She hated not knowing what he was calling her but she wouldn’t lower herself to ask. Let him have his fun. Men and their egos.
Mr I’m-So-Irresistible was about to meet his match. Water from the tap ran over the top of the kettle, down her arm and soaked the sleeve of her blouse. Cursing under her breath she gave him a tight smile. ‘Shall we say I get to shoot you afterward?’
‘Another tempting offer but no.’ He smiled and handed her a towel. ‘If you kiss me first, sweet Eleanore, then you give yourself to me completely.’
The soft words made Eleanore’s insides tumble like the clothes in a spin dryer—only twice as hot and twice as fast. She threw the towel in the sink and put the kettle back on the electric plate. She knew she’d be mad to take his bet but, oh, what would happen if she got to put Harrington’s name above the door of the Krystal Palace?
‘Tempted, Eleanore?’ He reached around her and flicked the switch on the kettle she’d forgotten to depress. Eleanore glared at the kettle as if it had betrayed her in some way.
‘Not by you,’ she scoffed with more bravado than she felt. ‘But why not?’ She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘You seem to be in the market to learn some more life lessons, Mr Kuznetskov—perhaps humility will be another one.’
‘You forget,’ he purred close to her ear as he took her palm and enfolded the apartment keys inside. ‘I have yet to learn the first one.’
Bastard, Eleanore thought, and nearly yelled it at him as he swaggered out of her apartment as if he owned the world and her along with it.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE WAS NOT dressing for him, Eleanore told herself as she threw yet another skirt from her suitcase onto the bed. But of course she was. She was dressing to tempt Lukas Kuznetskov into losing his schoolyard bet even though she’d woken with every intention of calling it off!
She spied the riot of clothes on her bed and huffed out a sigh. She’d done quite a bit of shopping during her weeks in Singapore but do you think she could come up with something suitable to wear?
The problem was that although she had some very sensible work suits and tops she hadn’t bought anything with seduction in mind. And probably she should have unpacked last night instead of wasting so much time in the bath hating the man in question before falling into a restless sleep because what she did have was now full of wrinkles.
What she needed was something professional and yet subtly sexy but nothing jumped out at her. Then she spied the flirty little top Olivia had given her for Christmas the year before. It was hardly subtle and wasn’t something she would usually pair with a suit because it was quite low-cut and didn’t accommodate a bra.
She picked it up and held it in front of her. Olivia had said that going braless was the point and that the gold colouring made her eyes glow. Eleanore eyed her reflection dubiously. Maybe if she teamed it with a floaty scarf and kept her suit jacket buttoned, then no one would know.
