The Playboy King's Wife. Emma Darcy
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A fierce elation burst through Tommy. She’d given in to him. For once in her life she hadn’t suspected his word, flouted it, mocked it, or walked away from it. And placing her hand on top of his was more than acceptance. Much more. It was a voluntary move towards him.
“Thank you,” he breathed, revelling in the appeal to him in her eyes, the appeal of a woman who didn’t want to fight, a woman who was looking—hoping—for something else from him, feeling her way tentatively towards it.
“I may not have said it, but I do admire all you’ve achieved, Tommy,” she said earnestly. “The success you’ve made of the air charter business and the wilderness resort. They were great ideas and you’ve proved how timely they were with Outback tourism gathering more and more business.”
The admission was surprisingly sweet. He was beyond needing anyone’s approval or admiration for his pursuit of ventures he’d believed in. His own satisfaction in making them profitable was enough. But coming from his most nagging critic…
“I never meant to sound as though I always thought the worst of you,” she rushed on apologetically. “I do respect your…your judgment on these things.”
Now that was pure grovel and he didn’t believe it for a second. She’d used him as a whipping boy far too often, invariably casting him in the worst possible light. On the other hand, the attempt at conciliation was intriguing. What did Samantha want today?
Her earlier tart responses had denied any desire for him and she’d been tense and uncomfortable with every physical contact he’d made. But just before Janice’s intrusion, he’d definitely been on a promising roll. Keep it wild, he thought, out of the ordinary.
“Shall we start over?” he suggested whimsically.
She looked confused.
He moved his hand to capture hers and carry it to his lips. “I truly am charmed to meet you, Samantha Connelly,” he declared, brushing a kiss across the back of her fingers. “And I look forward to forging a closer acquaintance with you.”
She laughed—surprised, relieved, delighted and slightly embarrassed by his show of gallantry. “I think you are too forward, sir,” she replied in kind, revealing her eagerness to play this game of turning a new page, to be written on as they pleased.
He gave her a wounded look. “You would forbid me your hand?”
She responded with arch chiding. “If I give you an inch you may take a mile.”
He grinned. “And then some.”
She shook her head at him. “A dangerous man.”
He lowered her hand to cover his heart. “It’s true that only the strong dare tread my path with me.”
She cocked her head consideringly. “Perhaps a risk must be taken for a gain to be made.”
“In meeting a challenge, much can be won,” he assured her.
“If you will lead, I may follow.”
“I trust you are open to persuasion.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “That depends on how convincing the persuasion is.”
“I shall put my mind to it.”
“Your heart, as well, sir, or I shall take my hand back.”
He laughed, exhilarated at her matching his flirtatious badinage. But then she always had matched him, before topping the matching with the last word. Not this time, he promised himself. The last word would be his this time.
With slow deliberation he raised her hand to his mouth again, then turned it over and pressed a long, sensuous kiss onto her palm. He saw her eyes widen, heard a gasp escape her lips, and knew the sexual current running through him was just as electric in her.
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