Natalie Anderson

Pleasured in the Playboy's Penthouse


Скачать книгу

did she care? This night was hers and she could do as she wanted with it—and that might just include flirting with strangers.

      ‘You’re either lying or lisping. I think maybe both.’ His lips quirked again. And the thing was, she didn’t find it offensive. So he was laughing at her. It was worth it just to see the way that smile reached right into his eyes.

      ‘How many have you had?’ he asked. ‘You seem to be slurring.’

      Not only that, she was still staring fixedly at him. She forced herself to blink again. It was so hard not to look at him. His was a face that captured attention and held it for ever. ‘These were my first.’

      ‘And last.’ He called the bartender over and ordered. ‘Sedate white wine spritzer, please.’

      ‘Who wants sedate?’ she argued, ignoring his further instructions to the waiter. ‘The last thing I want is wine.’ The urge for something stronger gripped her—something even more powerful, something to really take her breath away. She wanted the taste of fire to take away the lonely bitterness of disappointment.

      ‘Not true. Come on, whine away. Why are you here, celebrating alone?’

      He’d do. The blue in his eyes was all fire.

      ‘I’m not alone. My family is here too—my sister is getting married tomorrow in the resort.’

      His brows flashed upwards again. ‘So why aren’t they here now celebrating your birthday with you?’

      She paused. A chink in her act was about to be revealed, but she answered honestly. ‘They’ve forgotten.’

      ‘Ah.’ He looked at her, only a half-smile now. ‘So the birthday girl has missed out on her party.’

      She shrugged. ‘Everyone’s been busy with the wedding.’

      The spritzer arrived, together with a bottle of wine for him and two tall glasses of water.

      ‘Tell me about this wedding.’ He said wedding as if it were a bad word.

      ‘What’s to tell? She’s gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. A successful, wealthy, nice guy.’

      He inclined his head towards her. ‘And you’re a little jealous?’

      ‘No!’ She shook her head, but a little hurt stabbed inside. She wasn’t jealous of Vita, surely she wasn’t. She was truly pleased for her. And no way on this earth would she want Hamish. ‘He’s solid and dependable.’ The truth came out. ‘Square.’

      ‘You don’t like square?’

      She thought about it. Hamish was a nice person. And he thought the world of Vita—you could see it in the way he looked at her. He adored her. That little hurt stabbed again. She toughed it out. ‘I like a guy who can make me laugh.’

      ‘Do you, now?’ But he was the one who laughed. A low chuckle that made her want to smile too—if she weren’t having a self-piteous moment. He sobered. ‘What’s your role in the wedding?’

      ‘Chief bridesmaid,’ she said mournfully.

      His warm laughter rumbled again.

      ‘It’s all right for you,’ she said indignantly. ‘You’ve never been a bridesmaid.’

      ‘And you have?’

      She nodded. It was all too hideous. ‘I know all about it. This is my fourth outing.’

      And, yes, she knew what they said. Three times a bridesmaid and all that. Her aunts would be reminding her tomorrow. The only one of her siblings not perfectly paired off.

      ‘What’s the best man like?’

      She couldn’t hide the wince. Rex. How unfortunate that Hamish’s best friend was the guy Bella had once picked in her weak moment of trying to be all that the family wanted.

      ‘That bad, huh?’

      ‘Worse.’ Because after she’d broken up with him—and it had been her—he’d started dating her most perfect cousin of them all, Celia. And no one in the family could believe that Bella would dump such a catch as Rex and so it was that she earned even more sympathy—more shakes of the head. Not only could she not hold down a decent job, she couldn’t hold onto a decent man. No wonder her father treated her like a child. She supposed, despite her Masters degree and her array of part-time jobs, she was. She still hadn’t left home, was still dependent on the old man for the basics—like food.

      ‘So.’ Her charming companion at the bar speared her attention again with a laser-like look. ‘Invite me.’

      ‘I’m sorry?’

      ‘You’re the chief bridesmaid, aren’t you? You’ve got to have a date for the wedding.’

      ‘I’m not going to invite a total stranger to my sister’s wedding.’

      ‘Why not? It’ll make it interesting.’

      ‘How so?’ she asked. ‘Because you’re really a psycho out to create mayhem?’

      He laughed at that. ‘Look, it’s pretty clear you’re not looking forward to it. They’ve forgotten your birthday. This isn’t about them. This is about you doing something you want to. Do something you think is tempting.’

      ‘You think you’re tempting?’ OK, so he was. He sure was. But he didn’t need to be so sure about it.

      He leaned forward. ‘I think what tempts you is the thought of doing something unexpected.’

      He was daring her. She very nearly smiled then. It would be too—totally unexpected. And the idea really appealed to her. It had been her motivation all evening—for most of her life, in fact. To be utterly unlike the staid, conservative perfectionists in her bean-counter family. And how wonderful it would be to turn up on the arm of the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Pure fantasy. Especially when she was the only one of the younger generation not to be in a happy couple and have a high-powered career.

      And then, for once, she had a flash of her father’s conservatism—of realism. ‘I can’t ask you. I barely know you.’

      He leaned forward another inch. ‘But you have all night to get to know me.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      ALL night? Now it was Bella’s lips twitching.

      His smile was wicked. ‘Come on. Ask me anything.’

      Holding his gaze was something she wasn’t capable of any more. She ducked it, sat back and concentrated on the conversation.

      ‘All right. Are you married?’ She’d better establish the basics.

      ‘Never have, never will.’

      Uh-huh. ‘Live-in lover?’

      ‘Heaven forbid.’

      She paused. He was letting her know exactly where he stood on the commitment front. Devilry danced in his eyes. She knew he meant every word, but she also knew he was challenging her to pull him up on it.

      ‘Gay?’ she asked blithely.

      He looked smugly amused. ‘Will you take my word for it or do you want proof?’

      Now there was a challenge. And not one she was up for just yet.

      ‘Diseases?’ Tart this time.

      His amusement deepened. ‘I think there’s diabetes on my father’s side, but that doesn’t seem to manifest until old age.’

      She refused to smile, was determined to find some flaw. To get the better of him somehow. ‘What do you do for a living?’

      ‘I work with computers.’

      Gee, she nearly snorted, that could mean anything. ‘Computers? As in programming?’

      His