The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four (14 page)

He pulled her higher beneath him and tugged her bra down. The stretchy elastic bunched her breasts together, pushing them toward his mouth. Sebastian was quick to accommodate as he fastened his lips on her, pressing his tongue flat to create suction. Madeleine keened and thrust her hips up to grind against him.

Sebastian caught her pace, rhythmically driving against her. The cloth of their pants was both a hindrance and help, acting as a barrier while creating an exquisite friction. Madeleine looked up at him, her eyes wide. They were still clothed, but she felt free and unguarded. She wrapped her legs high around his waist and pressed open-mouth kisses on his chest, her tongue lightly bathing each of his shiny round scars.

Sebastian gripped her shoulders, rearing back. Cool air rushed between them, and he stared at her as if he’d never seen her.
 

“Christ.” He picked her off him, settling her on the floor as if she weighed no more than a doll. Reaching over, he pulled her bra back into place. “What the hell are we doing?” A dark flush stained his cheeks, and she swore she heard his teeth grind together. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

Her hand flew to her chest, and she stared at him, incredulous. She fumbled to get her legs beneath her then sprung upright, swaying a little.
 

Sebastian sat up. “Wait. That didn’t come out right.”

She started backing away, her hand raised as if to ward him off. “I think you meant exactly what you said.”

“No. I mean I did, but not…” Sebastian shook his head, hard. “Maddy. This isn’t what I want because I’m not good for you.”

It hurt, but this was too important for her to run away, even though she could feel reaction setting in. “Please stop deciding what’s best for me. I can decide for myself. And I want
you
, Sebastian.”
 

He physically flinched, and she felt it like a blow to her heart. He stood, looking downward. Finally, his eyes met hers again. She nearly gasped from witnessing the pain shimmering in their dark depths.
 

She stepped forward, hand outstretched. “What is it?”

He shook his head, and now he was the one backing away. “You don’t know me, Madeleine. Not really. If you did, you’d know I was right.” He’d moved to the doorway in preparation to leave. She saw him swallow. “Please believe me when I say I would hurt you. I wouldn’t mean to, but the effect would be the same. And I just don’t think I could stand myself after that.”

Madeleine stood exactly where she was for several long moments, hand still outstretched. Finally, she walked to the barre and stretched her leg high to brace it against the rail. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw fever-bright green eyes and rosy red cheeks. Her hair was wild and messy from where Sebastian had tangled his fingers in it.

She couldn’t remember feeling more alive.
 

It had been a long time since a man sparked her interest. But it was more than that. London had provided another kind of spark. One that had been lying dormant for too long. Since her arrival she’d found it easier to go out on her own—without the need for a hired bodyguard. Her training with Sebastian made her feel more sure and secure in herself.

For all practical purposes, they’d been dating for weeks. They dined, played card games, and talked. She knew what happened today was a step in the natural progression for them. Her desire was a constant, unfulfilled ache. And today, the mask he perpetually wore had slipped. He wanted her, craved her.

He just needed to see the truth, as she had. He was wrong about them. And he didn’t have enough faith in her or belief in himself to listen. But perhaps she could show him.

A small, secret smile tilted her lips.
 

Madeleine decided there was only one real course of action that made sense.

She was going to seduce Sebastian Payne.

***

Sebastian stretched his long legs, his knees bumping into Madeleine’s. “Excuse me,” he murmured.

She faced him across the small table between their padded leather seats. They were the sole passengers on a charter jet to Moscow. Madeleine had talked him into playing Three Card Poker to wile away the hours.
 

She looked up at him through her lashes.
 

He nearly smiled. She was the type of woman who was irresistible without trying. But since their explosive encounter in the gymnasium, she’d most definitely put in some effort.
 

Wherever he was in the house, she managed to be there too. She flirted and teased until all he could think about was the way she tasted and how she felt in his arms. To top things off, she made no secret she wanted Sebastian as her lover. She tempted and taunted him, slowly bewitching him.
 

He’d taken to spending more time at the club, working longer hours in a bid to break the lure of her attraction. In doing so, he was one step away from hosting a selection of Russian businessmen to a private poker competition.
 

The games would take place over three full days at the end of July. Players would be escorted to Club Hobart from the Ritz, where blocks of suites would be prepared and provided to suit each individual’s tastes. During the tourney, games would last between six and ten hours and take place in Hobart’s private penthouse suites. Breaks would involve cocktails on the connecting terraces outside and nightly dinners featuring the club’s world-class cuisine.

The last step necessary to finalize the plan was a visit to Moscow.

Madeleine tapped his shin with her bare foot. She’d removed her snakeskin stilettos shortly after takeoff. “Deal.” She pushed five almonds forward on the table.

He raised his eyebrow, deadpan. “Cocky.”

She pursed her lips, tossing her head to the side. “Confident,” she countered, then reached for the bottle of champagne chilling in its bucket. He forestalled her, easily refilling her flute.

She should be confident; she’d been steadily fleecing him since they started to play. Although Sebastian didn’t gamble, he had an obligation to know the games and have a certain level of mastery. If her streak continued, his reputation as an elite casino owner was at stake.

With his face deliberately blank, Sebastian picked up his cards to reveal his hand. Three tens stared back.

His insides tightened in triumph. It was about damned time.
 

Madeleine selected one almond from the small pile in front of her. She munched and swallowed, her eyes narrowed on her hand. A coarse grain of salt rested on her upper lip before the tip of her tongue snaked out to claim it.

Sebastian took a long sip of mineral water in a bid to cool off.
 

Madeleine caught his eye. She lifted her champagne flute in a tiny toast before tipping it back to drink.

She was going to kill him. She was so sexily self-assured of her effect on him.
 

As she should be.
 

“You’re eating all your winnings.”
 

She grinned, conspiratorial. “That’s okay. You’re about to lose and replenish my stock.”

He smirked. He had her this time.
 

He took his time turning over his cards to reveal his three of a kind. With baited breath, he waited for her reaction.

A saucy smile spread across her face. She cheekily stole an almond from Sebastian’s betting stash and popped it in her mouth.

“Come on, Price. You’re stalling.”

She flipped her cards. Three queens.

Sebastian flopped back in his seat with a loud exhale. Dumbfounded, he stared while she scraped her winnings, at least twenty of the salted nuts, across the table to add to her pile.

“You’re cheating.”

She placed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Never,” she declared. “Besides, you know I’m new to this game. You taught me.”

“Your luck is uncanny.” He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been taking side lessons from Martin?”

She gurgled, swatting at him. “Stop it. You’re just mad because I went back to work for him.”

The plane tilted and sun shot through the windows, brightening the cabin and making Madeleine’s hair practically crackle with fire. Her green eyes danced, the corners creased with laughter. A dimple winked in her right cheek.

His heart stuttered, stealing his breath.
 

He could have left her back in London, giving himself a much-needed reprieve from her intoxicating presence. But he hadn’t, simply because he didn’t want to. Long workdays and time away from Madeleine hadn’t lessened her appeal, only increased it.
 

It wasn’t that Sebastian didn’t enjoy women. He’d dated many women, had even had long-term relationships with a few. He was simply selective. Wounded, vulnerable strays didn’t exactly fit his criteria.

Or did they?

He shifted in his seat, frowning.

There’d been no one for a long time. Not since Madeleine arrived.

If he were completely honest, not since he first laid eyes on her.

He glanced at her then quickly looked away. Her beauty, inside and out, was practically blinding.
 

“Are you going to deal, Bas? Or have I finished you?” Oblivious to his thoughts, Madeleine smiled provocatively.

She sure didn’t seem vulnerable. In fact, she practically oozed with feminine confidence.

He looked down at the table. His pile of almonds had been reduced to a meager count of four.

He pushed them her way. “You win.”
 

So true, and in more ways than one. Throwing caution to the wind, he reached across the table for her hand.

She flushed pink, her fingers fluttering within his grip. Good, he made her nervous.
 

Encouraged, he continued. “You’ve thoroughly trounced me, destroying my ego.” He grinned. “The least you could do is accompany me on a formal date while we’re in Moscow. It would ease the sting of your victory.”
 

The plane banked. They’d be landing very soon.

She blinked. “Where?” She bit her lip. “I didn’t bring anything formal to wear. My hair’s too long.”

She was babbling, utterly endearing herself to him. And not one of her protests had a single thing to do with being out in public or socializing.

He smiled, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. Madeleine was changing, and he’d failed to notice.

He pressed her hand.
 

“Leave it all to me. It’ll be a surprise.”

***

Madeleine was fit to burst. She moved down the grand staircase at the Bolshoi Theatre, her arm tucked into Sebastian’s. The crowds of people surrounding them dictated a slow exit. Inwardly, she was leaping to get outside.

It wasn’t that she really wanted to leave. The theatre itself was a masterpiece in Russian classical architecture. Inside the hall, she and Sebastian had shared a private balcony in the dress circle, giving them an enviable view to the stage. Madeleine had marveled at the ornate regal decor, where every inch of woodwork was bedecked in gilt, making the entire auditorium resplendent in gold. Scarlet drapes festooned the galleries, a perfect match to the cardinal red fabrics adorning the chairs.
 

The grand staircase and foyer were a sharp contrast with their varying shades of white and cream. Scarlet showed up again in the carpet runners and drapes. Otherwise, the area was decorated in complementary yet muted tones. Overhead, massive crystal chandeliers scattered their light, lending glamour to the attendees of tonight’s ballet, Tchaikovsky’s
The Sleeping Beauty
.

Not that anyone needed the help. Bespoke tailoring and designer suiting was typical of the men. Women glittered in black or colorful gowns, many of them decked out in diamonds and other precious stones. It was an atypical evening, a private event for select members of Moscow society.

The ballet itself was perfection. The costumes and sets were breathtaking, the dancers magnificent. Madeleine knew that
Sleeping Beauty
was considered to be one of the most technically difficult ballets to perform. They’d made it seem effortless.

She couldn’t imagine a better place to see the iconic Russian ballet than in Moscow with the world-renowned Bolshoi troupe performing it.
 

She glanced up, admiring the darkly handsome man at her side. The evening had been a fairy tale, much like the ballet they’d just enjoyed. Yesterday had been fairly uneventful after their arrival with Sebastian leaving for several pre-arranged meetings. Madeleine had taken the opportunity to go solo sightseeing, having never visited Russia’s capital before.
 

She didn’t go far, but the Red Square and surrounding area was magnificent. Saint Basil’s Cathedral, with its brightly painted spires licking at the sky, was her favorite. She’d stood outside the massive fortress that was the Kremlin, feeling small and insignificant.
 

She’d retired without seeing Sebastian again. Sometime in the early hours, she thought she’d heard the faint sound of his door closing.
 

Then, earlier today, he’d showed up at the door of her hotel suite. With a flourish he’d presented the ballet tickets. Under his arm he’d held a large ivory box tied by a midnight blue ribbon.
 

She smoothed her hand down the black velvet of the vintage Valentino column dress Sebastian had provided. Even her accessories were flawless, including a simple black envelope clutch and strappy patent sandals. Her instinctive protests were quelled by the way he’d looked at her, all solemn and sexy.

Finally, they were outside. The night sky was clear and the color of deepest indigo. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees lining the sidewalk. Somewhere across the square a busker played guitar.

Madeleine didn’t want the evening to end. “Shall we walk?”

They were staying in a landmark hotel not too far away.

“Of course. As long as it doesn’t become uncomfortable.” He flicked his hand to indicate her feet.
 

Madeleine laughed. “By the time I was sixteen, I could have worn stilettos on ice. This is nothing.” She bounced, proving her point. Sebastian shot his hands out, hovering near if she stumbled.