The Millionaire's Proposition. Avril Tremayne
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Followed that with a stride over to the Venetians to open them with one sharp tug of the cord.
‘Oh, no, Katie,’ Scott said at that point. ‘We don’t get back to normal and move on to our next appointments after that.’
She looked at him. ‘Kate. Not Katie.’ She licked her top lip. Again. Eyes closed. Then opened. And then she threw her hands out with a you win sigh. ‘All right—fair enough. Let’s talk.’
She waved him to one of the black leather chairs as she walked around behind the desk and settled into her own intimidating, high-backed number.
‘That was a mistake,’ she said, very direct.
‘I made one mistake—I didn’t bring a condom. Otherwise that went pretty much as I would have liked.’
‘I don’t do relationships,’ Kate said, ignoring that.
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Perfect.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You don’t do relationships. I don’t do relationships. But I do do sex…and so, obviously, do you. And very well too.’
She stared at him for a long moment. Then that little lick of the top lip again—God, he wanted to be the one licking it.
‘I have someone,’ she said.
That brought a frown—fast and hard and very displeased. ‘You told me at the party you didn’t.’
‘I’m seeing him tonight. We’re working out an arrangement.’
‘What kind of arrangement?’
She looked at him out of those clear eyes. ‘A mutually satisfactory “friends with benefits” arrangement.’
‘Work out an arrangement with me instead.’
‘Phillip is forty.’
‘Past his sexual prime.’
‘Closer to my age.’
‘How old are you, Katie?’
‘Thirty-two. And it’s Kate.’
‘Then he’s not closer to your age—I am. Five years versus eight years. And I want you more.’
‘How could you possibly know that?’
‘Because nobody could want you more than I do.’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘And you owe me. One orgasm.’
‘I’m not interested in having a toy boy.’
‘And I’m not interested in being one.’ He stared at her, wondering… And then he relaxed back in his chair. ‘Aha! So that was it.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘What happened at the party to make you run away. Amy said I was twenty-seven.’
‘I don’t do relationships.’
‘Yeah—we covered that one.’
‘People who are twenty-seven are in the prime age bracket for relationships.’
‘Newsflash—so are people who are thirty-two.’
‘I’m not like other thirty-two-year-olds.’
‘And I’m not like other twenty-seven-year-olds. Remember? I’m the confirmed bachelor of Weeping Reef.’
‘You said bachelor, but not confirmed.’
‘I lied because I didn’t want to scare you off.’
‘Not exactly honourable.’
‘That’s because I’m not honourable. I have not one honourable intention when I look at you. Which won’t bother you since you’re not interested in relationships. So, Katie, you’re going to have to tell your forty-year-old he’s too late. Unless you didn’t like what just happened…?’
Kate leaned back in her chair. Licked her top lip again, which was now almost bare of lipstick. It was heavy, brooding. He wanted it on his body.
‘There’s no reason I won’t like it with Phillip just as much,’ she said.
‘What—you’d let Phillip go down on you on your desk during business hours, would you?’
‘He wouldn’t want to.’
‘And that’s why I’m the man for you. Because I would. I did. And I would do it again in a heartbeat, Katie.’
‘Kate. And it’s not a matter of liking. It’s a matter of being clear what the end-game is so nobody gets hurt.’
‘I don’t get hurt.’
She looked startled. ‘Everyone gets hurt.’
‘Not me.’
‘You’ve never been hurt?’
Scott’s body tensed. Redirect. ‘Let me put it this way. There’s no need for either of us to get hurt. You mentioned the end-game. Why can’t the end-game be sex? Pure and simple sex?’
Kate had picked up a pen and was tap, tap, tapping it on the desk. ‘Pure and simple sex,’ she said slowly. ‘No strings?’
‘You got it.’
Long moment. Tap, tap, tap. ‘And if I were to lay some ground rules…? You wouldn’t have a problem with that?’
‘Lay away.’
‘I’d need time. To think it through. Come up with an agreement.’
‘I’m sure you already have the ground rules worked out for old man Phillip.’
‘He’s not old.’
‘So your age fixation only works one way?’
No answer.
Scott smiled the Number One smile—I am available for sex immediately—as he got out his business card and tossed it onto her desk. ‘You’ve got until I see you tonight to work out whatever rules you want—but, just to be clear, whether we come to an agreement or not, you owe me. If I leave this office and you suddenly have second thoughts about embarking on an affair with me, you still owe me. You. Owe. Me. And I’m not leaving until you give me a time and a place for tonight where you’re going to pay me back. Katie. So let’s have it.’
She was thinking—he could almost see her brain fizzing.
And then, ‘Seven o’clock,’ she announced. ‘Come to my apartment.’ She scribbled something on a sheet of paper and held it out to him. ‘That’s the address. And it’s Kate.’
Scott reached for the paper, pocketed it.
Kate stood, walked around the desk to the door, opened it.
Scott got to his feet more slowly and followed her. But something about the controlled expression on her face got to him—so instead of walking out and heading merrily on his way, he stopped beside her, grabbed her upper arms, tugged her close and slammed his mouth hard on hers. Long, hot moment. Framed in the doorway for anyone who happened to be in the suite to see.
He released her just as suddenly, and smiled to see the combination of shock and desire on her face as he drew back.
‘You’ve got no idea how much I’m going to need that debt paid when I see you at seven tonight,’ he said softly.
And with that, he turned to wink at the unabashedly staring Deb and sauntered towards the exit.
As he reached it he heard Deb’s voice. ‘That was some five minutes, Kate. So, what will it be? Chicken and mung beans? Or do you need something more substantial—a chunk of raw meat, perhaps—to