CHAPTER FOUR

      FOR a second Clare thought she’d recognised a face as she moved through the crowd, but when she looked again it was gone.

      She touched her chest, feeling if her heart was still beating. The last thing she needed was someone who knew her tipping King off and wrecking the plan.

      It wouldn’t take him long to realise the connection between Clare and her sister and be on to her. Fiona had rung his office number over ten times one day to try and speak with him. Not one call had been returned.

      Clare followed Sasha, weaving through the tables and the other guests. The young woman was swinging her hips just a little too much to be believed normal—unless the girl had some spinal problem. It was obvious she was advertising—to Clare as much as anyone—staking her territory.

      Clare had met many men like King. They were a dime a dozen. Users, every one of them. Clare felt her blood heat. She’d learnt quickly how to pick them and avoid them. If only she’d helped her sister hone her radar for that type of man she wouldn’t be in this mess now.

      Clare refreshed her lipstick in the powder room, noticing Sasha watching her intently with narrowed eyes. She could tell what was coming.

      Clare replaced her lipstick in her purse and glanced at the young girl who was trying to stare her into oblivion. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes. And I want you to know that my father is very rich—and obviously I’m younger, and blonde.’ She looked Clare up and down dubiously. ‘You’re wasting your time.’

      ‘I think you’d better take another long hard look at the guy—he’s not as innocent as you think. He needs a challenge.’ She caught herself before she said too much. ‘And he likes brunettes.’

      Sasha opened her mouth, and closed it.

      ‘He’s a man of the world, Sasha. Bored out of his brain with everything. He wants someone who can stand up to him and that’s not you. Do yourself a favour and get a nice young man who’ll worship the ground you walk on.’

      Sasha cocked her head. ‘Young guys will worship me?’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ Clare sighed. ‘Find a nice one and I bet you he won’t be turning his back on you for anyone.’

      Sasha turned to the mirror and retouched her make-up to perfection. ‘You’re not just saying that so you get Mark?’

      ‘Take it how you will.’ Clare pushed her way through the large swinging doors and moved back into the ballroom.

      She breathed deeply, collecting her thoughts. This was it. Time to lure King back to her place.

      The table was empty. Clare swung around. He wasn’t hard to find. His jet-black hair, formidable height and expensive suit were a combination easy to spot.

      Clare strode forcefully into the alcove, right up to King without hesitation. He smiled when he saw her, a grin that lit his eyes with a dark passion that she knew her sister had experienced first-hand.

      Clare didn’t falter. She stared at his sensuous mouth and reduced the distance between them. It was time to get serious. Conversation was unnecessary. There was one thing King wanted, and she was all for offering it. Anything to see the guy slighted.

      ‘So, how did you—?’

      She covered his mouth hungrily, ravishing it cruelly, trying to smother him as much as she wanted to smother the onslaught of arousal coursing through her.

      It took him only a moment to recover from the surprise. His lips danced to life beneath hers, and they were more persuasive and gentle than she cared to admit.

      The strong hardness of his mouth tasted so good. Shivers of desire sang through her—an aching need she had denied for too long. A primitive, savage intensity took control and she plundered his mouth mercilessly.

      He pulled her hard against him, his hands moving sensuously along her spine, slowing her onslaught with drugging kisses.

      King explored her mouth with a gentle mastery, as though tuning her body to his. Every nerve in her body was aware of him, of his warm arms wrapped around her, of the pressure of his body against hers.

      A cough next to them intruded on Clare’s consciousness. Reality slowly dawned. Where she was, who she was kissing and what she was meant to be doing.

      For a first kiss it had been passionate, hungry, even angry. But it would be unforgettable. Clare pulled away reluctantly. It was far nicer kissing the guy than thinking about him and what he’d done. It wasn’t any wonder Fiona had fallen for him. He was a master.

      Her lips tingled. Clare couldn’t help herself. She tasted his lips again, brushing them softly with hers. She might never feel them again.

      ‘Thank you, John.’ King stared into her eyes, his own blazing. ‘I think I’ll manage from here.’

      Clare wanted to slap herself. She hadn’t even seen King’s assistant standing next to him—she’d been so intent on King that nothing else had registered. Heat annoyingly flooded her cheeks.

      She touched her tingling lips, not breaking eye contact with King, using the moment to the fullest. ‘Would you like to take me home?’ She knew full well what his answer would be. His whole body was primed for yes.

      ‘I’d be honoured.’ King offered her his arm and moved out through the front doors of the foyer and onto the main road. Clare slipped her arm into his, her body screaming for more of him, her mind alive at the ease with which he was falling in with her plan.

      The cool night air gave Clare a jolt back to reality. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She crossed her fingers behind her back, watching the cars speed past. She’d need luck to pull this off.

      ‘On second thoughts, I’ll get you a taxi.’ King extricated her arm and waved for a taxi. ‘It’ll be safer.’

      Her ego dropped to her toes. ‘For you or for me?’ she managed. What was happening? What had happened? He was meant to be coming home to her place to face the music.

      She stared at her black stilettos and her mind darted over the possibilities, trying to find some way to salvage the situation. But her mind remained blank, frozen in amazed panic.

      A smile tugged at his mouth. ‘Problem?’

      ‘No, not at all.’ She had to play it calm. If it wasn’t tonight it would be tomorrow night, or the next. It had to