One Night With Gael. Майя Блейк

middle of the room, her gaze once again homing in with almost helpless intent on the man who leaned with such loose-limbed indolence against the wall.

      His head turned and his gaze hooked on hers before his scrutiny dropped. His sharp inhalation echoed through the room as he took her in, the hands in his pockets visibly bunching as he straightened abruptly.

      And stared.

      Sexual awareness, now recognised as the potent substance it was, was unstoppable as it lanced her. Intensified just from the look in his eyes.

      Beneath the expensive silk and elastic blend heat suffused her, rushing through her body in a maddening dash she had no hope of stopping. But she tried. Heaven help her, she had to. Or she’d lose her mind.

      Slicking her tongue desperately over her lower lip, she cleared her throat. ‘I’m ready to hear your proposition now, Mr Aguilar.’

CHAPTER FOUR

      THE HEATED LOOK didn’t abate in his eyes. But her words, like so many others tonight, seemed to trigger a response within him.

      A negative one this time.

      After a few charged seconds his expression grew shuttered, and his aura when he approached her vibrated with repressed emotions she couldn’t place her finger on.

      ‘Gael,’ he clipped out as he passed her and headed for the door.

      ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘My name is Gael. I prefer it to Mr Aguilar. Use it.’

      ‘That sounds curiously like an order,’ she replied.

      He stopped abruptly, turned to face her. A deep sustaining breath lifted his chest before he speared her with his incisive gaze. ‘We’ve both had a trying day, Goldie. Can we attempt to make it slightly less trying before we part ways?’

      She was sure it was the use of her name, spoken so smoothly, so sizzlingly, that drew the fight from her, made her lift one shoulder in a feeble shrug. ‘Sure, I can try.’

      ‘Gracias,’ he intoned. Then added, ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Um...no problem.’

      A tinge of amusement lit his eyes before he shook his head. ‘“No problem” aren’t words I associate with you.’ He abruptly held up one hand. ‘Not that I want to test the theory right now. Come, we shall get a drink and find a place to hold our discussion, yes?’

      At her nod he resumed his exit, slowing his long stride to accommodate hers.

      They entered a large, rectangular living room, decorated with a severely modern and minimalist hand. The centrepiece of the room was the futuristic-looking light fixture that seemed to take up almost a quarter of the ceiling space. Beneath this gleaming white and silver masterpiece Pietro’s guests laughed and mingled. The man himself was the centre of attention, surrounded by a coolly elegant circle of females.

      His grin widened when he spotted them approaching, and he beckoned them with open arms.

      ‘Ah, there you are. Confirmation of our adventures in the Andes is needed, my friend. Sadly, I don’t think these fine ladies here believe a word I’m saying!’ he said to Gael.

      Gael’s gaze drifted over the ladies in question, who sparkled and preened even harder under his attention. Although he smiled, Goldie noticed the mirth didn’t touch his eyes. Not that the action didn’t have the desired devastating effect. Almost without exception every woman in the group strained towards him, their gazes rabidly checking him out.

      ‘That particular pleasure will have to wait, my friend. I have more important things to attend to right now.’ He turned to the waiter who had appeared next to him and snagged two glasses of champagne.

      Goldie dragged her attention from the nearest fawning woman to shake her head as he offered her one of the glasses. ‘No, thank you. I don’t drink.’

      She caught more than one woman sniggering.