and I realised I was holding my breath. I released it impatiently.
Casino de Monte-Carlo.
Cancel the driver. I’ll drive myself.
The cloud rippled again.
Very well. But you won’t always have things your way, Leonora.
For some stupid reason I gave in to the urge to smile, then I closed my eyes and imagined him saying that last line to me, that edgy hunger on his face.
God, I was losing it.
And yet, despite my admonishment to myself, two minutes later, I grabbed my clutch and leather jacket, and headed down to the private garage of my apartment building. I slipped behind the wheel of my silver Porsche Roadster, my heart thumping as I secured the seat belt and gunned the throaty engine.
The Côte d’Azur was always meant to be where I returned to make one definitive point before moving on. It was where I would rise like a phoenix from the ashes of my relationship and walk away whole again.
And are you whole?
My smile dimmed a little as the question shot alarm through me, bruising a little bit as it slammed into my heart. After a minute, I let it drift away unanswered, relieved when I saw signs for Monaco.
In Casino Square, I handed the valet my keys and, settling my jacket over my shoulder, I entered Casino de Monte-Carlo. Membership of the iconic establishment had been a necessity for my business. Almost every client who visited the South of France craved the singular thrill of throwing a die in the famous casino. I knew the staff by name and I greeted a few as I made my way into the main gambling salon.
Wine spritzer in hand, I drifted through the crowd, the excitement I’d been trying to ignore resurging through my blood as I entered the inner sanctum, where staggering amounts of money were won and lost on the gambling tables. This was where Gideon was likely to be.
When a quick look failed to reveal him, my excitement dimmed a little. I attempted to shrug it off, smiling as a waiter approached with a single glass of vintage champagne.
‘Courtesy of monsieur,’ he said with a thick French accent. I accepted but before I could enquire as to exactly who monsieur was, he’d discreetly melted away. When another surreptitious look around the room didn’t produce an insanely sexy Englishman with luscious face and panty-melting body, I approached a blackjack table.
I wasn’t going to look for Gideon. I intended to deny this crazy craving, for ever if I could. On a reckless whim, I played the next hand of blackjack. And the next. When five in a row tripled my thousand euros, I decided to quit while I was ahead.
Or it might have been that alarming tingle between my shoulders blades that suggested I was being watched. Breath catching, I looked around again, but none of the male eyes checking me out were Gideon Mortimer’s. Irritation ratcheted up.
‘Buy you another?’
I glanced to my left and the owner of the American accent. He was pleasant-looking enough, and had my treacherous interest not been rooted in a certain businessman I probably would’ve been flattered.
‘Thank you, but no,’ I replied.
He tried to cover his crestfallen look with a smile. ‘My loss.’
I turned away, suffered through another five minutes before giving in and digging my phone out of my clutch. We hadn’t set a definite time for our meeting, and my fingers trembled lightly as I toyed with the temptation to text Gideon.
But again, that smacked of desperation.
‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you?’ the American coaxed again, nodding at my glass.
I smiled. ‘I’m still halfway through this one. Let’s see how I feel when I’m done, okay?’
His smile broadened. ‘Sounds like a plan.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Andy, by the way.’
‘Leonie,’ I replied, my stomach dipping with chagrin as I placed my hand in his and watched him kiss the back of it.
I didn’t want to encourage him, so I quickly retrieved my hand, took another sip of my champagne and noticed a light buzzing in my head. I hadn’t drunk enough to be tipsy.
So maybe I was imagining that crazy tingling moving inexorably down my back, intensifying and leaving my whole body gripped in little tremors.
Or maybe it was my need to be fucked, specifically by Gideon Mortimer since those intense minutes in his bathroom, that was driving me insane.
I fished my phone out and typed out a short message.
I’m here.
His reply was equally short and immediate.
Are you? You seem otherwise engaged.
Excuse me?
No, you’re not excused, Leonora.
Even via the stark typeface, I could tell he was disgruntled. I was staring at my phone when the next message popped up.
Turn around.
I spun around.
He stood five feet away, piercing grey eyes locked on me. The man was pissed, even as he stared at me as if he owned me.
Those eyes shifted a second later to Andy, dismissed him before returning his stormy gaze to me. ‘Leonora.’
It wasn’t exactly a greeting. His voice throbbed with something savage and visceral that raced fresh skitters of awareness over my skin.
I stared at him, let his gaze rake me from head to toe, let that barely disguised hunger in his eyes wash over me. I indulged in it for a stolen moment, let it sting my nipples and saturate between my thighs so possessively that it felt as if he were stroking my clit without lifting a finger.
I was still absorbing the effect of his presence when he closed the gap between us.
Andy shifted towards us. ‘Hey, how about that drink?’ he asked.
Gideon’s face tightened. ‘That’s not going to happen. She’s here for me,’ he said through stiff lips, his gaze not once leaving my face. ‘Aren’t you, Leonora?’
Something in his demeanour sent a different set of tingles racing down my spine. A warning that something else was going on here.
I was so caught up in figuring it out, I barely saw Andy leave.
‘Shall we go somewhere a little more private?’ Gideon asked with that escalating edge in his voice.
‘Let’s get something straight first. I’m here for a meeting with you. Nothing else.’
‘I never suggested otherwise. But since we’re casting insinuations about, is that how you use your premeeting time? Having men slobber all over you?’
A blush surged into my face. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Again, no,’ he rasped.
I took a breath, and bit back my hot response when I noticed we were attracting attention.
Confidentiality rated very high on my list. I never discussed client business in public. Even if this particular client seemed determined to burrow his way under my skin.
‘The request still holds,’ he extended after half a minute.
I swallowed my irritation. Come Monday he would be my client. I had to maintain a degree of professionalism.
‘Fine, lead the way.’
Gideon took hold of my arm but instead of heading to the stunning balcony a few dozen feet away, he steered me to another blackjack table.
‘I thought we were going to talk.’
‘We were, but I don’t think it’s a great idea for us to be alone right now.’
My