Mr. Temptation

‘Hmm.’ The delicate scent of flowers filled the air and she inhaled softly. ‘Isn’t the smell beautiful?’

He bowed his head close to hers. ‘All I can smell is you, laced with champagne.’

A shiver rippled through her, excitement surging as the lift ascended, the effect dizzying as she felt herself arch instinctively over his palm, her head angling up to him. ‘Concentrate.’

It was all she could manage to get out. She wanted him to enjoy this viewing, not her, not yet. Despite every screaming nerve wanting the latter.

He chuckled, the sound resonating through her core, a low ache kick-starting deep within.

‘I am concentrating,’ he said thickly, his head dropping to draw her lower lip into his mouth, his tongue sweeping tantalisingly across before he released her. ‘And I like what I see...’ His hands came around her front. ‘What I feel...’ He smoothed a palm over her thigh, gathering up the skirt of her dress, his other brushed up her torso. Blood rushed through her body, the ache swelling in her belly, her breasts, her nipples perking in anticipation of his touch.

She leant back into him, feeling him press against her, his solid girth making the throb between her legs fierce. ‘I like what I feel too,’ she whispered up to him as he stroked beneath her breast and the top of her thigh in unison, each caress designed to tease, to provoke, sending her body into a sensitised mass as she shuddered against him.

‘I love how responsive you are.’ As he said it his fingers trailed over one pleading nipple. ‘I could lose my mind just watching you come.’

He swirled around the hardened peak, his caress maddeningly light. Her eyelids fluttered as her head fell back against his shoulder, and then she saw it, the camera—shit!

She had no idea whether they were functioning, no idea who was monitoring them. As far as she was aware these apartments

were uninhabited, but it wasn’t worth the risk to her reputation, to her relationship with the Qatari owners.

She righted against him, turning to face him. ‘Big brother could be watching.’

Her eyes flitted up and to the right, gesturing to the camera behind her, and he followed her move. ‘Thought you liked living dangerously.’

She laughed. ‘There’s living dangerously and then there’s committing career suicide.’

He shook his head, his disappointment clear as his hands dropped to discreetly adjust himself, and hunger gnawed at her, his obvious hardness threatening her resolve. She averted her gaze—behave.

The lift came to her aid, the ground shifting beneath them to announce its arrival and the doors sliding smoothly open. She stepped out and stopped, the awe-inspiring sight freezing her to the spot. Even she wasn’t prepared for this.

‘Now that’s something,’ he said behind her, reminding her of her place, her role.

‘Isn’t it just?’ she murmured, making herself move, leading him through the sparse room straight to the glass-walled edge. ‘We’re seven hundred and fifty-three feet up, making it the highest home in London, the highest in Eastern Europe in fact.’ She trailed her fingers along the glass as she followed it round, losing herself in the breathtaking view, London’s famous landmarks and the sea beyond. ‘Can you imagine it at night?’

‘It’s pretty spectacular right now.’

‘It’s certainly a blank canvas to do with what you will,’ she said, reaching a glass door that opened out onto what would be garden, a sunken plunge pool ready to be filled, a viewing platform.

He came up behind her, his body brushing against her back. ‘There’s something exhilarating about being so high up, don’t you think?’

She nodded against him, a slight pressure buzzing in her head, her blood pumping that bit faster. Was it the height? Or was it because his erection was back at her hip?

‘Especially when desire is rushing through your veins.’ He reached around her, turning her into him. ‘I see no cameras now.’

Desire wedged in her throat, the sun beating down into her back adding to the heat raging through her system. ‘No, no audience.’

He walked her back against the glass, pressing her up against it, and the photo speared her mind, the pain crushing her with the reminder of who he’d been, who he still claimed to be. But that was before he’d proposed a date. Before they had spent so much time together. Before even her own feelings had changed.

He frowned down at her, his eyes reading far too much. ‘What is it?’

She looked into his soft amber gaze, his concern so evident, and hope flared. It was time to take work out of the equation.

Nerves twisted in her belly but she held his eye. ‘We can’t carry on like this, you know. I have a business that needs my time.’

He curved his hands around her waist, his eyes falling to her lips and back up. ‘You are doing business.’

She laughed softly. ‘Not that kind of business.’ She hooked her hands around his neck. ‘You’re going to have to make a decision.’