make her feel like a woman with heated blood in her veins, but that was where it began and ended. He had an agenda. She was safe from hurt provided she went into this with her eyes wide open—and they were most definitely open.
* * *
Marcus pulled the classic Jaguar he’d rented to a halt at the top of the loop in the Cullen driveway. Anticipation thrummed through his body at the thought of the next few hours with Avery Cullen. She was wary, and justifiably so. He’d have to tread very carefully to get what he wanted but he had no doubt he’d succeed. Besides, spending the evening in her company would be nothing but pleasure. With her cool Nordic beauty, obviously a throwback to her English mother’s Norse ancestors, she looked like an ice princess. An ice princess right before the thaw, he smiled to himself as he bounded up the concrete stairs that led to the imposing front entrance to her home.
The woman who opened the door to him, though, was anything but cool and his own body heated in appreciation at the transformation. Wrapped—there really was no other way to describe the way her dress clung to her body—in vibrant red, with her silver-blond hair drawn up into a loose twist off her neck and with her lips painted a luscious tone to match her dress, she was a far cry from the fragile, wounded female in jeans and a T-shirt he’d met in the gardens today.
He took a moment to take in the full effect of her stunning beauty. From top to toe she was the whole package—a package that sent a jolt of pure lust burning through his body.
“You look amazing,” he blurted with all the finesse of a randy twelfth grader heading to senior prom.
“Thank you,” she replied, her full lips pulling into a tempting curve. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”
Her fingertips seared through the fine cotton of his shirt as she rested her hand elegantly on his forearm. “Where are we going?”
He named a restaurant that clearly garnered her immediate approval.
“Very nice, I haven’t been there in a while,” she said with a nod of her head.
Intimate and with excellent food, Marcus knew the place was exalted by food lovers who moved in only the best social circles. There was usually a waiting list to get through its hallowed doors but he hadn’t scholarshipped his way through the best prep schools and colleges in Boston without learning a thing or two about contacts. A quick call to an influential old college roommate, who now worked in the financial sector here in London, and the reservation had been a fait accompli.
Marcus handed Avery into the passenger seat of the car and as he settled himself behind the wheel she turned to speak to him.
“You okay driving on the left-hand side of the road?”
“I got here safely enough, didn’t I?” he answered with a smile. “Seriously though, I come to the U.K. fairly often, you’re safe with me.”
Safe enough in the car perhaps, he amended silently. What happened during dinner and, hopefully after, was another thing entirely. And there it was, that intense burning need for her, rocketing through his veins—and other parts of him. Parts he fully intended to ignore, but they were not so easily disregarded. His body thrummed with awareness of her presence beside him, of the subtle floral fragrance she wore that tempted him to find out if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. Marcus’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, as he forced himself back under control. There was plenty of time to indulge in how she made him feel. For now he simply had to ensure that she’d be open to further discussion. He wasn’t about to let physical desire stand in the way of garnering the most influential sale of his career.
Traffic was surprisingly light as they drove toward the restaurant. Gliding the car to a halt in front of the valet stand, Marcus quickly alighted and went around to Avery’s door to help her from the vehicle, relishing the opportunity to watch her long slender legs as she swung them out of the car. Avery gracefully rose on silver spike-heeled sandals that did all kinds of wicked things to his imagination, and Marcus was struck anew by her almost ethereal beauty.
Heads turned as they were ushered in through the front door. The maître d’ greeted them both by name. He shouldn’t have been surprised. While his research had told him that Avery grew up every inch a privileged, although shy, sun-kissed California girl, she’d spent considerable time the past few years on the charity circuit between L.A. and here. Until her father’s sudden illness, that was. After that, she’d dropped out of circulation, not reappearing in the public eye until now, months after Forrest Cullen’s death. An unexpected surge of protectiveness welled up inside him as those turning heads, one by one, swiveled back to their dinner companions, the buzz of conversation suddenly rising in the rarified atmosphere of the restaurant.
Always one to take the bull by the horns, Marcus inclined his head to Avery’s and whispered in her ear, “Looks like you’ve just become the main topic of conversation, hmm?”
She nodded, a brief jerk of her slender neck. The action seemed totally at odds with her innate poise and beauty. “Some people never did have anything better to do.”
Even though she’d brushed off the reaction of the restaurant patrons, the hint of bitterness in her tone spoke volumes and he realized what an ordeal it had been for her to walk past the other tables. Her hand had tightened on his arm the moment she’d been recognized and he’d felt her relief when they were shown to their table for two, set off in an intimate alcove near the rear of the restaurant.
“From their reactions I’d say it looks like it’s been a while since you’ve been in circulation,” he said carefully after they’d been seated and provided with menus. He didn’t want her to know that he’d investigated her so thoroughly.
“I haven’t been out much,” she said carefully. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be—to drop out of circulation, I mean.”
He reached a hand across the table, lightly brushing her forearm. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight.”
He felt, rather than saw, her reaction to his touch. The way her skin tautened beneath his fingertips, tiny goose bumps rising as if a shiver had passed through her body. Her gaze locked with his and he saw the flare of sensual awareness that blazed deep within her eyes. Eyes that were suddenly molten, before she obviously shut down the feeling as effectively as if she’d been doused in a glacier-fed lake. Giving an internal shrug, Marcus decided not to pursue her reaction just yet. After all, it didn’t take him closer to his goal and it had clearly disturbed her. He wasn’t quite sure which of those reasons struck him most strongly—his need to secure the sale of the Cullen Collection, or the near overwhelming urge to further explore the burgeoning awareness that pulsed between them.
* * *
“It was nice to be asked,” she said, simply fighting to maintain her composure.
Inside, however, was a different story. She was shocked at how such a simple gesture could cause such a riotous reaction. His caress had been light, impersonal even, and yet it felt as if a thousand tiny energy bolts danced under her skin. Her eyes flew up to meet his. In the subdued lighting of the restaurant they were a darker green than she remembered, more like the mesmerizing glow of a flawless emerald. She felt her internal muscles clench on a rise of intense physical interest.
Marcus Price was dangerous. Not only was he a threat to her equilibrium, he was very definitely a man on a mission. She couldn’t afford to lower her guard or who knew what he might get her to agree to do.
It had been a long time since anyone had shown her attention that wasn’t aimed at garnering something back for the donor. She never used to care all that much. She had a few close friends and a far wider group of acquaintances who she could rely on for a fun time. But when her father became ill, and the seriousness of his illness became apparent, she’d realized how shallow she’d allowed her life to become. And it had opened her eyes to the truth that the only person she honestly could rely on was herself—provided she remained true to herself all the time.
She’d