Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street 4)

Not that she would ever go to bed with him. That was just his cock spouting off, of course. Still, Kam was practical. He knew the game board had altered ever since he’d seen Lin walk into the restaurant; he just wasn’t sure how it would change yet.

He was captivated by even the smallest of her gestures. She was utterly perfect with her clothes on. He could only imagine the raptures of her naked body. Did a woman as graceful and sophisticated as Lin Soong purr in bed, or did she hiss and bare those small white teeth?

He mentally cursed his uncontrollable thoughts, reaching for the loaf of warm, crusty bread that Victor had set before them in a basket.

What was Ian thinking, sending him a woman that was so gorgeous, she was almost otherworldly? Was Lin Soong the enticement to come around to Ian’s way of thinking? Was Ian trying to prove to Kam there were indescribably worthwhile benefits to wealth and power? No wonder Ian grumbled that every chief executive officer and business mogul on the planet wanted to poach Lin Soong from him.

Too late, Kam realized he’d ravaged the bread with his rough hands. He glanced apologetically at Lin. Her face was still and calm as she watched him with large, dark eyes. Against his will, he imagined what it’d be like to have her look up at him with those eyes while his cock was harbored deep inside her, erupting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a piece of the torn loaf for himself and leaving a mangled portion in the basket.

“No problem.” She reached and ripped off a piece for herself, those hypnotizing white hands nearly as forceful as his had been. There was something sexy about her actions, knowing she didn’t disdain the place where his fingers had been . . . his touch. Blood pulsed into his cock. He shifted in the uncomfortable chair, grimacing. She picked up her spoon and matter-of-factly dipped the edge of her bread in the fragrant broth. Unable to look away, he watched her insert the corner of the bread between her lips and bite. His cock swelled and twitched. He tamped down an almost uncontrollable urge to nip at that mouth. It was small, but her dark pink lips were lush and shapely.

Her nostrils flared slightly as she returned his stare and chewed her bread, her expression a strange combination of calm innocence and complete understanding of what he was thinking.

Which was ridiculous. A woman like her would take offense at his pornographic thoughts.

Wouldn’t she?

“Should I explain what I have planned?” she asked in a low, melodious voice after she’d swallowed and tore off another piece of bread.

“Planned for what? The courtship of a bunch of rich stiffs who make status symbols for other rich stiffs that tell the rest of us peons loud and clear we’re not a part of their club?” he asked, his voice unintentionally harsh as he again ripped his attention off Lin. He began to eat mechanically, grunting softly in acknowledgment at the first savory bite of soup. Lin had been right. Her friend knew how to cook.

“If anything, they’ll be courting you, Kam.”

He met her stare at the sound of her saying his name.

“Will you be there?”

She blinked. “At the meetings? Of course. I thought you knew that. Ian thought I could help. Is that all right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t need any help. But seeing you again makes this whole thing interesting, at the very least.”

Her eyes widened. He’d gotten to her. He waited, curious as to how she’d respond.

“I thought you’d prefer to settle in and spend time with Ian and Lucien for the next few days. I’m out of town, anyway. So we’ll get things started on Thursday with two representatives from Gersbach,” Lin began, her manner abruptly brisk and businesslike. So, she was going to ignore his overture. “I wanted you to meet with them first, let them set the stage for what we’re dealing with here. As you probably know, Gersbach is the premier Swiss watchmaker. It’s a large company, but it’s still privately held by the Gersbach family. The family prefers doing business face-to-face. Otto Gersbach, the current chief executive officer, is carrying on the family tradition of sitting down with potential business partners, breaking bread together, really knowing one another on a personal basis.”

“If he values personal business transactions, it’s a wonder he doesn’t take offense at the idea of me meeting with his competitors.” He gave Lin a sideways glance and noticed her implacable features. “Oh, I see. He doesn’t know,” he added sardonically.

“I didn’t tell him outright, no,” she replied in an unruffled manner. She really was a cool one. He watched as she slipped the silver spoon between her lips. Her white, pearl-clad throat convulsed slightly as she swallowed. He mentally shouted at himself to look away. She was too cool to be making him so hot. The imbalance irritated him. Suddenly, the idea of him putting his rough hands all over her smooth body . . . of him sliding his big, aching cock into her sleek pussy, seemed about as likely as a balmy summer in Antarctica next year.

Still, a man could dream. When the fantasies were as hot as Lin inspired, he had no choice.

“But Otto likely suspects that he has competition for your product,” she continued. “He’s no fool.”

He paused in eating as she set down her spoon, turned to the chair next to her and retrieved her slim leather briefcase. She lifted it to her lap and extracted something from the pocket, her actions precise and graceful. He stared at the black-and-white photo of a fit-looking man in his late fifties with graying blond hair. He was sitting at a table covered with papers and his thin lips were opened as if he had been photographed speaking.