the club tonight, without Quick, Demetri had seized the opportunity.
She’d worn her emotions on her sleeve. She was angry, hurt…and, if he his instincts were right, she wanted to prove something.
Yeah, definitely wanted to prove something, as the memory of her opening her legs and giving him a hint of what lay beneath the conservative straight-lined skirt was any indication.
Demetri shook his head. He didn’t know what had happened, but he didn’t give a shit, not really.
No matter how sweet she looked, how intriguing, how…different than what he’d expected, she was nothing but a crook. He’d use everything in his psychological and sexual arsenal to bring her down.
Demetri yanked open the shower door with more force than was necessary and turned on the water. Not bothering to wait until it warmed, he stepped into the stall.
He raised his face toward the multifaceted showerhead, pulling his hands through his hair, allowing the cool water to rain down on his upturned face.
A plan began to form in his head.
“God, what am I doing?” Gaby murmured aloud, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, clenching and unclenching her clasped hands as she stood in front of the elevator door in the deserted hallway at the back of the club.
She’d been standing there for at least thirty minutes, her mind a chaotic whirl of conflicting emotions.
She unclasped her hands and brushed her fingertips back and forth over the cool metal bars of the antiquated elevator, contemplating what she was about to do with a man she didn’t even know.
Ready for whatever, however…any delicious thing he had in mind, she was game.
In her current state of mind she was down for just about anything.
And she knew that was a dangerous condition for a woman to be in. There was no telling what could happen.
That thought alone sent her heart into overdrive.
She glanced down at herself, wishing she’d worn something more seductive than the navy blue skirt, matching blazer, and sensible shoes.
After she’d come home she’d been tired; the only thing on her mind had been to pull off the itchy hose and crawl into bed, fully clothed.
However, at the time she had no idea her plans would so drastically change.
Instead of crawling into bed with a good book and a glass of wine, she’d walked in and caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman.
And now, here she was about to do something daring, unlike anything she’d ever done before. Intent on allowing a man she didn’t know to sex her up like there was no tomorrow. If only for one night. All she wanted was one night of selfish pleasure to help her momentarily forget the mess her life was in.
And the man she’d selected for the job was waiting for her upstairs. Sweet. Gaby fervently prayed he could deliver on what his name, his heated eyes, his sensual mouth, promised. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out a calming breath before reopening them.
Her face settling into lines of determination, she inserted the brass key into the lock and pulled back the door. The groaning, creaking noise it made as she pushed the iron cage open seemed unnaturally loud to her, despite the booming music filtering into the hall from the club.
She glanced around to see if anyone was watching and shook her head at herself, chastising herself for being so ridiculous.
No one was watching her, and if they were, well…who cared? She was a grown woman of thirty years. If she wanted to have anonymous sex with the hottest man she’d seen in a month of Sundays, it was nobody’s business but her own. She checked her purse for the condoms she had thrown inside and walked into the elevator.
Once inside the elevator, she pulled the outer doors together and pressed the arrow up button. Her nerves were stretched taut as the elevator lumbered and groaned as it rose.
When the elevator came to a halt and the inner doors opened, she pulled back the wrought-iron door and stepped out. Surprised, she looked around.
She knew he lived above the club, but didn’t know it was a loft and that the elevator would take her directly into his home. She walked past the entryway and into the large, open room.
“Hello!” she called out, when she saw no sign of Sweet. “Anybody here?”
Gaby looked around, nervous, but curious about where he lived.
The loft was large, easily spanning the width of the club. She cautiously moved into the room, her gaze wandering over his home.
The design was a continuous flow, one room blending into the next, separated by floor-to-ceiling pillars. From where she stood, she could see a few closed doors that she imagined led to bedrooms, but when her eyes fell on the large four-poster bed in the far corner of the room, raised on a dais, she revised her thoughts.
“Hello, are you here?” Gaby called out, again.
She began to walk farther inside, furtively looking around.
She stepped down a small set of stairs that led her into what must serve as the main living area. The living space dominated the room, simply yet tastefully decorated in muted browns, reds, and cream.
A chocolate-brown suede sofa and matching oversized chair were set in the center of the room, and two crimson occasional chairs flanked a white brick stonewashed fireplace. Gaby’s eyes were drawn to a small statue set on the mantel. She walked into the living room, over to the statue, and carefully picked it up.
It was made of what looked to be pure jade. She turned the smooth, cool figurine over in her hand. At first she’d thought it was a statue of a woman, but upon closer inspection, she realized it was a tightly woven male and female, limbs intertwined. It was highly erotic.
“You came,” a deep, now-familiar voice murmured.
She had been so caught up in the beauty of the jade statue, she hadn’t heard him enter the room.
Spinning around, startled, Gaby almost dropped the statue on the floor. She quickly caught it and replaced on the mantel.
She turned back to face him. He stood several feet away, gazing at her.
Her eyes trailed over his handsome face, to his wet hair that appeared even darker as it lay in thick, wet waves, away from his forehead.
Her gaze ran down the planes of his muscular, bare chest, the light sprinkling of dark hair glistening with moisture, past the low-slung jeans he wore unbuttoned. A thatch of curls was barely visible. Her gaze followed the dusky-haired trail, down to the deep V, lower, until the trail disappeared into his open jeans.
Her tongue snaked out and licked her dry bottom lip, her stomach churning in nervousness. She raised her eyes and met his intent, unblinking stare.
“I-I called your name,” the words emerged in a dry whisper. She cleared her throat before continuing. “No one answered.”
“I was in the shower,” he continued to stare at her, not moving, and Gaby’s gut clenched even more.
She began to fiddle with the buttons on her blouse, nervous, not knowing what to do with her hands.
“Take off your clothes.”
When he spoke, she jumped. She’d begun to think he would continue to stand there staring at her. She didn’t know which she preferred—his intent stare or the demand for her to undress.
“What?”
“You heard me, take them off.” His voice was stern, unyielding…yet coaxing.
Gaby hesitated.
His gaze raked over her, making her feel exposed even though she was fully clothed; the look in his eyes showed lust, yet she detected a certain cool detachment.
The