Millionaire's Woman: The Millionaire's Prospective Wife / The Millionaire's Runaway Bride / The Millionaire's Reward
tell he was devastatingly experienced, a man who would know a woman’s weakness and just how to use it for his own advantage in the seduction stakes. The warning in her mind was there but it didn’t mean a thing while his mouth was working its magic and his arms were pressing her close to his hardness.
Almost leisurely, he explored her mouth until her heart thudded wildly against the steady beat of his and she was kissing him back in total surrender.
This was crazy, insane. She knew that, knew she had to call a halt before things got out of hand, but it was impossible with her blood singing through her veins and molten lava in the pit of her stomach. His hands were clever, stroking her arms and the smooth roundness of her shoulders until her skin was on fire with his caresses.
She gave herself over totally to the kiss, knowing the danger of letting herself become vulnerable to this man but unable to help herself. He kissed so well; she had never been kissed like this in all her life. She’d found most men used a kiss as a preliminary to other things but Nick seemed in no hurry to progress, seemingly enjoying her mouth as much as she was relishing his.
His hands moved up to her hair and within a moment it was falling down about her shoulders, silky soft and smelling of apple blossom shampoo. His fingers tangled themselves in the rich strands, using them to draw her head backwards to allow him greater access to the sensitive skin of her throat.
Cory moaned softly, her hands sliding over the powerful male chest muscles flexing beneath his shirt. The faint scent of aftershave she’d noticed earlier was teasing her nostrils again, its essence wild and dangerous, feeding her desire with its elusive aroma.
She heard him whisper her name as his mouth came back to hers, his voice husky. She knew what he wanted because she wanted it too, and it didn’t seem to matter where they were or what the rest of the world was doing.
The thought was enough to bring her abruptly to her senses. This was a William Patterson situation all over again. He’d had charisma and that extra something which was undefinable but which made a woman go weak at the knees. He had pursued her, using his wealth and magnetism to dazzling effect until she hadn’t known if black was white. She’d been wary at first. Why would a man like William, fifteen years older than her, rich, successful, be bothering with a little nobody fresh out of university? She’d been right to be wary. She should have gone on being wary…
She had stopped kissing Nick back and unconsciously stiffened as the memories had flooded in, and now she became aware that he had picked up on her withdrawal as he drew away. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked very quietly, but without the annoyance or irritation she’d half-expected.
‘I…I don’t do this, not on the first date.’ Although it wasn’t a date, as she’d reminded him this evening. Which made everything a hundred times worse.
‘You don’t kiss?’
His voice was still without expression and, because she could only catch glimpses of his face now and again by the light of passing streetlamps, she had no idea if he was angry or not. She didn’t know how to answer him. How could she say that what they’d just shared had been more than a kiss, at least to her? That would give all the wrong signals. And to admit she had presumed it was the prelude to something more would be even worse.
Cory swallowed. ‘Not like this, no.’
‘Like this?’
‘In…in the back of a car.’ She swallowed again. ‘A goodnight kiss on the doorstep is one thing, but this is more…’
‘Intimate?’ he finished for her.
‘Yes.’
‘Nice, though.’ There was warmth in his voice now and she was glad of the darkness to hide her burning cheeks. There was a pause and then he said, ‘OK, no more kissing until I deposit you on your doorstep.’ Before she could resist, his arm had gone round her and he drew her into his side, holding her against him, pushing her head down on to his shoulder. ‘Relax,’ he said softly. ‘Shut your eyes and think of that doorstep.’
‘Nick—’
‘No more talking, not unless you want me to remember I’m not a gentleman.’
Relax he’d said, with every nerve she possessed twanging and her heart thumping fit to burst at his closeness.
It seemed a long, long time until the Mercedes purred to a halt outside the flat. Cory knew exactly how a jelly must feel.
‘Your doorstep awaits, Ma’am.’ The deep voice was smoky with amusement.
From some unexpected reserve of self-preservation, Cory managed to feign sleepiness as she raised her head from the pillow of his shoulder. ‘Are we here?’ she mumbled, pretending to yawn. ‘I must have been dozing.’
He didn’t challenge her on the lie, but there was a distinctly quizzical slant to his mouth as he exited the car and then helped her out.
The night air wasn’t cold—in fact there was a humid balminess to the shadowed street which suggested another hot June day in store—but Cory shivered as his big hand closed over her fingers. When she was standing on the pavement she tried to gently disentangle herself from his hold, but Nick was having none of it.
Instead he pulled her to the front door of the house. ‘Come on,’ he said coolly. ‘In we go.’
‘There’s no need for you to come up,’ she protested quickly. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening and—’
‘I’m seeing you to your front door.’ It was spoken in a tone which brooked no argument. ‘I’d never forgive myself if a mad axeman was lying in wait,’ he added with every appearance of seriousness.
She didn’t trust the solemnity any more than she trusted him. ‘I hardly think that’s likely.’
‘No? You want to look at the news and read the papers more often. Rape, pillage, mayhem and destruction are all part of the world we live in,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Do you want me to open the door?’
‘I’m quite capable, thank you.’ Having said that the keys had got themselves jammed in the lining of the purse somehow, and it took a few moments to yank them free under his amused gaze.
Once inside the hall, Cory whispered, ‘You’ll have to be very quiet. The people on this floor have a dog that hears the slightest thing and then barks enough to wake the dead.’
‘Wonderful,’ Nick murmured sarcastically.
‘It is, actually. It makes everyone feel very safe.’
‘Haven’t they heard of burglar alarms?’
A low growl from across the hall persuaded Cory to give up the argument. She slipped off her sandals preparatory to climbing the stairs and, as she straightened, he whispered, ‘You’ve just lost about five inches. What have you been walking on all night, stilts?’
She couldn’t help giggling. ‘You wait till you see my glass eye and wooden leg.’
‘I can’t wait.’
As they reached the first landing where her flat was all amusement left Cory however. Was he expecting to be asked in for a nightcap? Was he expecting to be asked in for something else? Or both? But she’d made it plain how she felt in the car—she hoped. But if he kissed her again…
‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ she began.
‘You’ve already done that bit.’ He had to bend further to kiss her this time now she was minus the sandals, and it was still more satisfying than the most expensive chocolate. All the feelings he’d aroused in the car were there, and her arms were just beginning to snake up to his shoulders when she was free. ‘Goodnight, Cory,’ he said blandly.
Goodnight? She stared at him, totally taken aback, before she pulled herself together. ‘Goodnight,’ she said quickly. ‘And I meant what I said, by the way. It was a lovely evening.’
He