Australia: In Bed with the Playboy. Emma Darcy

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Australia: In Bed with the Playboy - Emma Darcy


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be always ready.’

      ‘Ah!’ A smile of satisfaction tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘Then I’m glad you found me as irresistible as I found you. Which is the second thing I want to talk to you about.’

      Ivy rolled her eyes and sagged back in her chair, feeling under attack again. ‘Haven’t I made my point, Jordan?’ she cried in exasperation.

      ‘No. Because it’s based on assumptions about me which I don’t think are fair,’ he argued.

      They weren’t assumptions. His orders to the rose farm provided hard evidence of how he conducted his sexual affairs. However, she couldn’t lay that out to him without revealing how she had such inside knowledge and she didn’t want to give him any more information about herself. ‘You’re a notorious playboy,’ she said accusingly, folding her arms in defensive belligerence.

      He grimaced. ‘Because of what I am, who I am, a lot of women throw themselves at me, Ivy. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t find some of them attractive. Unlike you, they’re intent on making themselves attractive to me, but the effort wears thin after a while. Their real selves emerge.’ He shook his head as he ruefully added, ‘And it’s never what I want.’

      ‘What do you want?’ she asked, privately conceding what he said could be true. A handsome billionaire would be a target for most women.

      The blue eyes burned into hers. ‘Honesty,’ he said, which he’d previously told her was the rarest commodity in his world.

      Maybe it was. The more Ivy thought about it, the more she could see this could be a real downside in being obscenely wealthy…people cosying up to him for what they could get out of being close to big money. She didn’t need what he had. Being happy in her own world, she didn’t covet his kind of life at all. The only thing missing for her was…a loving husband, family, a shared future.

      She couldn’t see Jordan Powell in that picture.

      Though she certainly wouldn’t mind sharing her bed with him.

      No denying that.

      Her entire body was humming with tempting memories and sympathy for his situation with other women was sneaking into her heart, undermining her resistance to the strong attraction of the man.

      ‘Well, I want honesty, too, Jordan,’ she said, struggling to maintain a defensive line. ‘Why don’t you admit I was nothing more than an amusing challenge to you on the night of my mother’s exhibition? Someone different to play with. And you simply didn’t like it when I finished the game before you did.’

      ‘Not a game, Ivy.’ He shook his head over her choice of words. His mouth quirked ironically. ‘A game doesn’t spin out of control as that night did.’

      The trunk of the car…the front steps of his house…her vaginal muscles contracted sharply at the pointed recollection of control being totally lost.

      ‘That has never happened to me before,’ he added quietly. ‘Which does make you different, Ivy. Not in an amusing sense. In a very unique sense. And you’ve just told me it was extraordinary for you, too. So I don’t think we should walk away from it. I think it’s something we should explore a lot further. Together. With honesty. No game-playing.’

      There was no trace of glib charm in his voice, no seductive twinkle in the blue eyes boring into hers. He looked completely serious, sincere, emitting a force-ful energy that silently attacked and demolished any argument against what he was proposing.

      Ivy suddenly found herself thinking of her parents. They’d led separate lives for as long as she could remember, but they’d never divorced and had always shared a bedroom when they’d spent weekends together. They’d each pursued their own interests, respecting the needs that drove them to take different paths while still maintaining an affectionate bond.

      It wasn’t what she wanted for herself.

      But what if there was nothing better?

      Never would be anything better.

      She stared at Jordan Powell and knew she wanted more of him. Whatever that meant…wherever it led…she did want to explore how much they could have together.

       CHAPTER NINE

      JORDAN concentrated fiercely on willing Ivy to agree. The idea that she had been playing a power game with him had been whittled away by the sheer length of time it had taken her to respond to his message. Her attitude today—everything about her—indicated that inspiring a chase had not been the intent behind absenting herself from his life. She was fighting the attraction between them with all her willpower.

      Or was all this a clever act, designed to draw him more firmly into her female net?

      She had turned up.

      And was forcing him to argue for a chance with her.

      Throw out the challenge…hook the man like he’d never been hooked before!

      Her fascinating green eyes had savaged him, mocked him, transmitted hard unyielding judgement, but now they were strangely blank, focussed inward, giving no sign of what she was thinking.

      He couldn’t deny his many affairs—most of them very short-lived. Ivy had plenty of reason to believe she would be no more than a brief addition to the long list. It could actually turn out that way. He wasn’t about to promise it wouldn’t. How could he know, at this stage, how long the attraction would last, whether familiarity would eventually breed contempt, as it so often had with other women?

      All he knew was his gut was in knots, waiting for her reply. And that hadn’t happened before. None of it had…sensing her presence before he even saw her, the mule-kick to his heart when his instincts had proved correct, the intense flare of desire which owed nothing to her outward appearance which was obviously meant to express lack of interest in him.

      He was hooked.

      But that didn’t mean he was caught.

      The instant zing between them told him she wasn’t immune to what they had shared. He had to tap into that again, make her want what he wanted. Regardless of what was going on in her mind, Jordan was determined on drawing her into his net. Even more so now that she was here with him.

      ‘Would you like a cup of coffee while you think about it?’ he asked, intent on forcing her into active communication.

      The blank shield on her eyes snapped open to reveal deep wells of vulnerability—a host of fears swirling through wishful possibilities. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily, sucking in a quick breath to firm up her voice. ‘Cappucino, please.’

      He signalled a waitress, ordered two coffees and a plate of toasted sandwiches to tempt Ivy into eating. There was nothing like sharing food to put people more at ease with their company, and it seemed—from the wildly swimming look in her eyes—that Ivy was wound up in an emotional dilemma about becoming more involved with him.

      Unless she was a brilliant actress.

      He was reminded of what Margaret had said…I wouldn’t like it if you hunted her down and hurt her.

      He had hunted her, with good reason, Jordan told himself. Nevertheless, being hurt by him could be high on the list of fears in Ivy’s mind. A playboy…

      To him it was a pragmatic lifestyle, given his circumstances. He was quite happy going along for a ride, hated the idea of being taken for one. He was beginning to think this was a different situation with Ivy, more a journey of discovery than the usual ride.

      Her lashes had swept down, hiding her thoughts again. He leaned forward, pressing for her attention. ‘Ivy, you’re not a trophy woman to me.’

      The green eyes flashed wildly amused sparks at him as she burst into a peal of laughter. ‘Anyone seeing us together today would


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