Bought: One Bride

“We all get conned at one time in our lives.”

“I can’t see you getting conned.”

“Can’t you? Well, you don’t know me very well yet, do you?”

The moment the words were out of his mouth Richard regretted them. Talk about stupid! He was supposed to be seducing her tonight, not putting seeds of worry into her head.

If tonight worked out as well as he hoped it would, he would soon be asking her to marry him.

One of the reasons he’d chosen this party to bring Holly to tonight was to show her the kind of life she could have as his wife. A life of luxury and security, of pampering and privilege. She would never have to worry about money. She could have anything she wanted, and so could her children. Their children.

His second goal tonight was to give Holly pleasure. Sexual pleasure.

Admittedly, he was keen to have some sexual pleasure himself. More than keen, actually. The situation was close to desperation level. Dancing with her was going to prove damned difficult. Just the thought of taking her into his arms and holding her close made his groin ache. Hell on earth, maybe he should have come to visit her on Thursday night. Then things might not have been so…hard.

Reece’s address came into view, the street lined with parked cars. Reece did not throw small parties.

“We’ll have to park down the road a bit,” Richard said, driving slowly past the house, “then walk back.”

He had to drive for quite a way, eventually finding a spot.

“Sorry about the walk,” he said as he turned off the engine and retrieved his car keys. “Will you manage in those shoes?”

He reached over to unsnap her seatbelt, bringing his face close to hers. Temptingly close. Before he could stop himself, his hand had lifted to encircle the soft skin at the base of her throat, sliding slowly upwards till it cupped her chin. Her eyes—what he could see of them—had definitely widened, her mouth falling open a little as well. Her perfume wafted up from that incredible cleavage, teasing him with its incredibly sexy scent.

One kiss, he thought. Surely one little kiss wouldn’t hurt at this stage.

Her lips were ready for him. Ready and eager, flowering further open under his with a sound that was half sob, half moan. His tongue had slipped past them before his brain could stop it.

The rest of his body wasn’t obeying him, either.

The desire for more than one little kiss kicked in with a vengeance and he found himself pressing her head back against the car seat, keeping her firmly captive there with his mouth whilst the hand that had been holding her chin slid down into the deep V of her neckline, finding its way like a homing beacon under the soft pink material and over one exquisitely naked breast.

Her back arched away from the seat, her mouth gasping under his. His tongue withdrew, his head lifting to watch her eyes dilate whilst he moved his palm back and forth across her already hardened nipple.

She seemed to have ceased breathing, her eyes round, their pupils hugely dark.

“Oh, please,” she choked out when his hand stilled.

Her abject plea evoked a dark sense of triumph.

Later, he promised himself as he removed his hand. Later, he would make her beg again. But next time, she would be totally naked. And there would be no stopping. Not till she was crying out with one release after another. Not till she was entirely, totally his.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HOLLY closed the door of the ladies’ powder room behind her.

What ordinary house, she thought agitatedly as she washed her hands, had two guest powder rooms, one for the gentlemen and one for the ladies?

But of course this wasn’t an ordinary house. And these weren’t ordinary people. The rich and the famous abounded out there. The wheelers and dealers of this world. Aside from her ultraglamorous host and hostess, Holly had already been introduced to two top politicians, a well-known television anchor-man and a famous actor with his new third wife, a gorgeous young thing twenty years his junior.

Holly felt she’d held her own, despite the company and despite being totally rattled by what had happened out in the car less than fifteen minutes earlier. But as soon as she’d been able to, she’d excused herself and asked directions to the powder room.

Now here she was, alone for a few precious moments, desperately trying to stop herself from thinking she’d fallen wildly in love with Richard Crawford.

Okay, so he was a good kisser. Lots of men were good kissers. Dave had been a pretty good kisser.

But once again, Holly could not remember responding to any of Dave’s kisses the way she responded to Richard’s kisses—with such utter abandonment of her own will. She would have let him do anything to her. Right there in his car. In a public street, for pity’s sake.