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He keeps walking in my direction, slow and studied like a panther. I’m hit with a wave of his body heat, the scent of his fresh, manly sweat and undertones of pure, sexy Cam. Damn, he’s worth waiting for and he knows it.
He grips my chin, his thumb swiping my b
ottom lip, and then he tilts my face up to his kiss, which is slow and thorough, as if he’s relearning how our mouths slot together. I suck in a breath—unbelievably I’d forgotten how good he is at kissing, how it’s almost a full-contact sport—all strong, demanding lips and probing tongue. How he dwarfs me, one hand practically swallowing my entire jaw and half my face, and how, when he pulls away, his eyes glassy with that now familiar desire, I want more. Want it never to end.
How can I crave him again? How do I have any more orgasms left in me? How can I convince him to say yes?
He pulls away, not unaffected by our chemistry—I see it in his eyes—and now I’m looking forward to this party, to proving him wrong, to showing him I’m worth his time.
‘Give me ten.’ His voice is husky, his breath warm on my wet lips.
I nod, too scared to trust my own voice because of the lust raging through my bloodstream.
* * *
I’m not surprised to see him driving the low-slung, sleek sports car he bought last night, even if it does look as if it belongs in some futuristic movie. The sight of him behind the wheel makes me wish I was someone who employed dirty tactics. I want to ride him right there in the front seat.
‘So this is your new car?’ I say as he lifts my suitcase into the back. My stomach sinks a little when I see his solitary brown leather messenger-style bag next to it. No suitcase.
‘Yes. It’s a supercar, remember, a Python—custom-made.’
‘Is everything super-sized with you?’
He waggles his eyebrows and I laugh.
‘I’m glad you appreciate the finer things in life,’ he says. He’s talking about himself, so I shake my head in mock disgust, although I’m smiling.
‘So what are you going to do with it?’ I ask about the car.
‘We’re going to take it for a little test drive.’ He opens my door, and I slide in.
‘Shouldn’t you have done that before you made such a rash purchase? What if the wheels fall off?’
‘I’ll get it fixed,’ he shrugs. ‘You wouldn’t worry if you’d seen the race yesterday. It hugs the road like a dream, and wait till you hear the soft purr of the engine.’ He winks as if nothing fazes him and a pang of longing shoots through me at his easygoing outlook.
I watch him stride around the front of the car, wondering anew at how he amassed such wealth at such a young age. I had my trust fund to help me out when I first started my own company. But I take full credit for what I’ve built since. I may not be any good at relationships, I may not have the belief of my father, but money I can make.
He joins me in the car, and, as if he’s read my mind, starts the conversation. ‘So, what do you do that sees you travelling for work?’ he asks as he guns the engine, pulls away from the M Club and heads towards the harbour, Port Hercule.
I love the way he drives, the way he handles the wheel with the same masculine self-assuredness with which he handled my pleasure last night, everything about him exciting new areas of my body and mind until I’m aching for him to agree to my proposition. ‘I’m in finance. I’m CEO of an investment multinational.’
He shoots me an assessing look, something akin to disbelief in his eyes.
I lift my chin and try not to take it personally.
‘So you make money for people?’ he says.
‘Yes, lots of money, otherwise I’d have no clients. I’m very good at what I do and it’s true what they say—money makes the world go round.’
He shakes his head and I wonder what’s upset him about my profession. Most people I meet ask me for investment tips, but Cam looks as though I’ve said I drown puppies for a living.
‘What is it? Do you think women can’t be at the top of their field?’
He shoots me an incredulous look. ‘Of course not—that you would suggest such a ridiculous thing shows how little we know each other. I was merely wondering just how good you are at your job.’
‘Come to Zurich with me and we can work on getting to know each other,’ I push, ever the opportunist. ‘I’ll even give you some free pointers—the markets are in flux at the moment, but there are always opportunities if you know where to look.’
‘Mmm...’ he says, sounding bored. ‘If you were good at losing money for clients, I might be tempted.’
