The Monte Carlo Affair: Across A Crowded Room (IATO Series Book 2) (9 page)

She seemed appeased with his attempt to charm. Their two pale heads and long, lithe bodies blended into one another on the dance floor, getting lost in the dancers.

Chapter Nine

Emily whispered in Kate’s ear with what lately was an uncharacteristic giggle. “I feel like Cinderella.”

“Well, don’t look now, Cindy, but I think that’s Prince Charming walking up the stairs.” Kate whispered under her breath, “As I live and breathe, doesn’t he look sexy tonight! Good grief, he gets better looking daily.”

“Hey, Kate, chill,” Jorge growled with what sounded suspiciously like jealousy. “I’m standing right here.” Jorge Alvarado’s looks were impressive. A mind-blowingly handsome man in his own right, he had dark Spanish features and a diplomatic air he probably inherited from his father, the assistant to the Spanish Ambassador to the United States. Even after all these years, Emily still thought of him as one of her best friends.

Kate appeased him with a sexy grin and a long once over, while Emily checked him out more closely. Appraising him objectively, she had to admit Kate was one lucky girl. “Jorge cleans up nicely. Quite the thing in that tux,” Emily said.

With that, Jorge puffed up and smiled, smoothing a hand down the front of his jacket. “Thanks.” He instinctively moved closer, into Kate’s space along the step, firmly establishing his rights, making it clear she was with him.

“Oh, boys, boys,” Emily grinned noting his slick moves, “always territorializing.”

Kate MacMartin’s red curls bobbed about her head, loose ringlets occasionally flipping across her lightly freckled nose. She groaned. “Now he’s going to be impossible.”

She nudged him in the ribs and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t worry, Jorge, after I pick my eyeballs up from the stairs and shove my tongue back in my mouth, I promise, I won’t notice anyone but you.”

Instead of letting her get away with the quick buss, Jorge grabbed her and gave her a very thorough kiss. “There, just remember the promise.”

Kate melted into Jorge with a sexy smile and Emily reevaluated Jorge, more impressed than ever. She hadn’t thought he had it in him. He’d always seemed so controlled and just—just Jorge. But the air sizzled between those two, and it made Emily happy.

There was something about Jason’s expression when he stared at her that bothered her. He was still mad over last week. Explaining Mosel’s lack of trousers and her attire to a raging madman hadn’t been easy. Eventually, he’d calmed down, but he hadn’t been convinced. She was sure he would have preferred that Mosel had drowned, despite their plans, especially when she tried to explain why she’d taken off his pants. It wasn’t her fault he went commando under his clothes.

When he’d grit through his teeth, “Don’t lie to me,” and she’d said nothing. He confirmed that most of the earlier exchange was on the x-rated surveillance tapes. He’d made it clear why he hadn’t been satisfied with her explanation for her own lack of attire, let alone her choice of underwear. “I was assigned to visual surveillance. I saw everything before you blew up.”

“Seducing him is my job.”

“And you’re damn good at it, too.” Jason had spit the accusation out at her, and then said the one thing that destroyed her. “Nice progress. In three years you’ve gone from tiny black lace to black string.”

She should have been angrier, but instead she was upset, confused. His comment was a huge breach of character. He had never mentioned anything about the night she seduced him, never once acknowledged their intimate past.

Past. She’d acknowledged that’s what their relationship was, especially when he reacted like a disappointed older brother last week.

She glanced up as he crossed the veranda in front of the ballroom, all his attention directed on her. His tight jaw belied his casual attitude as much as the contrast of his appearance. His broad shoulders filled out an immaculate tux, and his bearing oozed wealth and style set against his slightly disheveled, dark chocolate-colored hair—too long by conventional standards. She recalled her penchant for chocolate. He looked good enough to eat. There were so many things she could do with chocolate and him.

His focus was riveted on her. She ripped her attention away from the lure of him, back to what Kate was saying. But as Emily tried to continue a casual conversation, she just kept drifting back to Mr. Chocolate Cupcake across the room. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him. She devoured him with her eyes. As the music drifted around them, she kept trying to ignore him, but her gaze kept returning to his. She was enthralled, captivated, fascinated. And so, apparently, was he. Or that’s what his expression said. He watched her like a ravenous wolf.

“Em, what’s the matter with you? It’s Jason, for goodness sake, remember?”

“I’m acting.” Emily answered defensively. “I’m supposed to keep his attention.”

“Well done, then.” Kate might be younger, but she was far more worldly than Emily.

“He looks very, very interested, and you do look fantastic tonight, Emily. Doesn’t she look fantastic, Jorge? Never mind, don’t answer, and wipe the drool off your lower lip, Jorge.”

He bent to Emily and whispered in her ear, “If I wasn’t halfway in love with that redheaded witch, I’d never let you out looking like this. I’d keep you home with me.”

Emily smiled with pure feminine satisfaction at the unexpected light flirtation, and Kate added with good humor, “And you, Em, can wipe that pleased smirk off your face.” She grabbed Jorge’s arm possessively.

Another set of eyes bored into her. She turned to see Mosel watching her with amused interest. Her lips twisted into an awkward smile for him before she was forced to acknowledge Jason’s approach.

He lightly bumped into her. “Excuse me.”

The body-to-body contact lightly brushed her hip, but she said nothing. Then he stepped into her space on the broad landing, crowding her—moving in, brushing against her, a light physical contact, but enough to get her motor running. According to their plans, he only perfunctorily acknowledged Kate and Jorge.

He was taking over, taking control.

Static? Electricity? Sparks?
Was he playing a game with her now? After the incident with Mosel, they’d barely spoken. He’d told her how he watched Mosel kiss her, suckle her breasts, and how he’d heard her when Mosel brought her to orgasm with his hands and his mouth. Although she still didn’t understand why, the seduction obviously upset Jason, but the lack of clothes weighing Mosel and her down had actually saved their lives.

“You’re feeling better?” Unspoken innuendos passed between them. His intense expression made her heart skip. Without lifting his head, only his brows, he thoroughly scrutinized her.

She nodded. His inspection made her breathless.

“What can I say? You look, well, I’m speechless,” he whispered conspiratorially.

The heat radiating up her body had Emily flushing all over. His devouring stare made her antsy. His breathing was as shallow as hers.

Wow, where did this intensity come from after all this time? Lust? Interesting.

Then, just as quickly, with an air of indifference she wasn’t expecting, he made his apologies and started to leave. Her heart slammed to her feet.

He was playing a part, just an act. Disappointment and anger churned inside her. She was sick of his controlling attitude. Feigning a need to shift, she wiggled her torso, leaning against him to balance herself before he could get by. Only a brief contact, but enough.

When she glanced up, Mosel observed her with renewed interest. His expression almost frightened her. He’d been polite while she healed, yet still blatantly pursued her. What would he think of her now? What would he do later, after what was going down tonight? Would he be hurt, disappointed, angry?

This game the three of them played was out of her class.

She lowered her eyes, no longer able to meet his when she discovered she didn’t want to hurt him. She liked him too much, even if he did scare the hell out of her.

Maybe that was part of his allure.

* * * *

Jason felt an edge to his self-control snap.

She’s doing her job. This is an assignment.
His mind rambled down an uncomfortable side road while his insides wrenched with discomfort.

She looked incredible. Maybe her unpretentious demeanor was the most intriguing part about her, the reason for Jason’s interest and probably Mosel’s too. She was, beyond a doubt, attractive in an amazing way. Her medium sized frame gave the appearance of fragility, yet she radiated an inner strength. She was round where real women should be round and delicate where women should be delicate. Jason loved her wild curly hair, full of burnt copper hues, barely under control, threatening to burst free from the pins at any moment, so much like her.

He wasn’t fooled anymore by her childlike features, her subtle sexuality, or her full imperfect lips, the upper slightly larger than the lower. She was one of the most sensuous women he’d ever known, and she wasn’t even aware of that part of her arsenal. He almost felt sorry for Mosel. Because Jason would never, ever, let him near her again. The man would never win this game. No one else would.

The metallic copper color of her dress accentuated the highlights in her hair. The dress was made from some flimsy, clingy material, like scales on a mermaid. His gaze lingered over her body. God, how he loved these new synthetic fibers that made undergarments obsolete.

The back dropped to below her waist, just a hair above the dimples he knew were there. He could already feel the heat and blood dropping to his lower body.

The slit in front was considerably higher than he cared to speculate about, since just thinking about what lay beneath it made him hard. The top of her dress plunged low enough to interest him, actually, too much so for his own good. The bodice barely covered the rounds of her breasts on the sides. A wrong move in any direction could prove interesting as well as stimulating. Suddenly the thought of anyone other than himself glimpsing any part of her intimate skin again pissed him off.

* * * *

“He hasn’t taken his eyes off you,” Kate bent over and whispered in Emily’s ear. “And the other one, the Nordic-looking god over there, what’s the deal with him? He looks like someone sucker punched him. He’s watching the exchange between you and breathless over there. It’s almost frightening. I hope you haven’t gotten in over your head. What can he be thinking?”

Emily tried to hide her unease. She tried to be cool. “You’re right, his expression is strange.” A certain level of fear shook her. “It worries me.”

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you just seduced two fantastic men into obsession.”

“You think?” Emily asked pensively, taking no insult from Kate’s comment. Everyone knew Emily was no femme fatale.

“Yes, I do think! Very intense!”

Each time Emily glanced in Mosel’s direction, he was still watching her. His gaze hadn’t shifted. She lowered her lashes shyly and shivered. “That’s the idea.”

Emily was too preoccupied with the men staring holes through her to adequately respond to the ongoing conversation. Kate and Jorge would understand. Besides, they were charmingly preoccupied with each other and knew she had a job to do tonight.

Jason returned, this time never shifting his attention, staring directly at her. She could tell by the expression on his face he knew the effect he’d had on her. Her heart picked up a beat when she realized his intention.

The dance had begun.

This was it. Her heart was galloping rapidly. She found herself holding her breath again. She’d been nervously babbling, but stopped talking in mid-sentence. She downed the remaining champagne in her glass in one gulp. The bubbles tickled her nose briefly. She scrunched it.

He was so beautifully masculine. Just the way he walked fascinated her, like a big lazy jungle cat.

Lifting her chin, she assumed an attitude. Was this wild brazen behavior or dizziness from the champagne she'd just swigged? What had gotten into her? Him, from the first time she’d laid eyes on him.

Breathe, in, out, just breathe.
Do not
hyperventilate! When you black out and crash to the floor in a heap at his feet, he’ll see he’s affected you exactly the way he planned. What modern woman swoons?

He was right in front of her now. She had to look up. Way up. Without words, he took her hand and led her to the dance floor, taking full control of her body
.
She hoped his hold on her was steady, because her head wasn’t. Her knees weren’t going to hold up without his firm support.

Heart, beat, just beat.

Inhaling, exhaling, heart beating. Why was it necessary to remind her body to perform these routine behaviors? Wasn’t breathing and heart beating an autonomic function of the brain? The rest of her body’s reflexes didn’t seem to have a problem keeping up. She was melting inside for him.

He confidently held her against him. Maybe even somewhat possessively. Her body relaxed into his, comfortable in his knowledgeable embrace. At least a head taller than she, he had to bend to whisper. At first, his quick breath on her ear sent chills through her, followed slowly by an unbelievable, seeping warmth. Heat spread through her core, pooling in the deepest center of her body, moistening her folds. Her internal thermostat went haywire. His large body was not at all bulky, and every single inch of him was like forged steel. Their bodies fit—molded together as they moved around the dance floor. It was if there was no one else in the world. The room and all conscious thought vanished from her mind in his powerful arms.