Socialite's Gamble

He had been a wealthy man for long enough to know the score. And this woman—this car thief—was on the make, any moron could see that.

He recalled the uppity curse she had delivered at the airport as sweetly as if she had been blessing his firstborn child. He nearly smiled. Then Ellery leaned closer to her.

Had Ellery already laid claim to her?

It wouldn’t surprise him. His last wife hadn’t been dead eighteen months but even before she’d died it had been rumoured he’d moved on. Loyalty was not a word Martin Ellery knew the meaning of, or cared about.

His and Ellery’s paths hadn’t crossed for about that long and Aidan doubted they’d have much to say to each other tonight. Ellery would know better than to try. He knew Aidan loathed him.

And for some reason he loathed the way the older man kept stroking the back of his car thief’s hand in a brief caress that told any other male watching that she was unavailable.

A sick feeling rose up in his stomach. No doubt if she was with Ellery he’d brought her to the game for good luck. Unfortunately it would take more than a statuesque model type to bring him luck tonight.

His car thief stepped back and gave Ellery a flirtatious smile and Aidan was once again caught off guard by a powerful bolt of sexual awareness so hot it burned through his bloodstream. Watching her closely, he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about her that drew him so intensely and he was mildly irritated by his reaction. Yes, she had a certain feline grace about her. A certain leggy beauty, but the girl had run off with his hire car and only a woman with no morals, or an over-exaggerated sense of entitlement, would do something like that.

Neither type appealed to him.

‘Can I get you a drink, sir?’

Aidan turned his head as a waitress stopped beside him.

‘No. I’m here to play poker.’ He noticed that Ellery had moved to the main table and the pink-haired car thief with the kissable mouth was now alone.

He wondered what she’d do when she spotted him.

Fortunately he didn’t have to wait long to find out. As if sensing his perusal she glanced up and around. He counted to six before her gaze collided with his. Keeping his expression intentionally bland he watched her eyes widen like Bambi facing down a pack of hungry mountain lions.

Oh, God!

He’d followed her.

Cara couldn’t believe it. And he’d gotten into the Mahogany Room which was invitation-only. Her heart raced at the sight of him. Did he know what she had done? That she had borrowed his car? But of course he must. Why else would he be here?

Everyone else in the room seemed to fade away as he continued to stare at her and Cara was aware of nothing beyond the beating of her own heart. And his eyes.

Standing just inside the doorway he was at once invisible and totally conspicuous. His aura alone dominated the busy room. Which shouldn’t have been possible in a place full of the rich and famous. Still, he did and she wasn’t the only woman who had noticed him. She could tell by the low murmur of appreciation by the women on her right that he was being favourably sized up as a potential catch.

And Cara had to get rid of him. Quickly, before the big game started and before he caused a scene that would get back to Christos.

Deciding that the best course of action was the direct one, she tried to still the jittery feeling in her legs and walked towards him.

The room felt like it had just tripled in length and she fervently hoped that he didn’t know that she had been the one who had taken his car.

Would the hire-car company have told him already?

Blast her impulsive decision to colour her hair so brightly. For once she’d be happy to be her normal boring self because a girl with muddy-brown hair would have been so much harder to locate.

But what if he wasn’t looking for her about the car? What if he still thought she was a working girl he’d decided to purchase for the night? A buzz went through her body at the possibility and she was horrified to find that despite everything she was actually totally attracted to him.

At some point she hoped that she would be able to laugh at the day she’d just had. Some point in the very distant future. Right now, though, she would forget all about her unhelpful hormones and the way his eyes shone like brilliant sapphires against his olive skin and black shirt.

Of course she felt sick the closer she came, her stomach clenching and unclenching like a giant-size fist, and when his gaze swept over her body her confidence completely deserted her.

She stopped directly in front of him but with enough room between them to fit at least two buses. ‘I’m sorry,’ she began a little breathlessly, ‘but this room is invitation only.’

His level gaze raked her face and then he smiled. ‘Ah, the woman whose shoe I broke.’