Heat Seeker by Lora Leigh Page B

wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world when she looked so sad.
    “That would definitely be a good idea.” She nodded. “Tomorrow you’ll come out to the cabin. I’ll have my father’s tailor there fit you with some new suits. You’ve done very well as a successful broker, but now you need to show your intent to rise higher in the world. You’ll have one of a very few of the richest heiresses in the world that you’re courting. You need to show your intent as well as your seriousness in the matter.”
    His brow arched. “Should I be looking for engagement rings then?”
    She tilted her head and stared back at him coolly. “Call Cartier’s in England, make an appointment with the manager to see his finest diamonds in, say, six weeks’ time. That will prove your intent as well as give you ample opportunity to complete your job here before you have to actually buy the diamond.”
    He snorted at that. “I have my own diamond sources, my dear, I think I can take care of this on my own.”
    She shrugged. “However you wish to deal it, as long as word leaks out. Now, we’d better be leaving soon or we’ll bemore than fashionably late and end up insulting our host and hostess. That’s something we really don’t want to do at this point.”
    Insulting the Waterstones wasn’t one of the things that was high on his own list of problems to avoid, but he would take her word for it.
    “And once we arrive?” He moved from the bar, stepping over to her slowly, letting her feel the heat of his body as it mixed with hers. “Are we lovers, Bailey, or still tiptoeing around each other like a couple of teenagers?”
    She inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring with a hint of nervous excitement as a glitter of hunger lit her eyes. She wanted it just as damned bad as he did. The need that had erupted between them five years ago hadn’t abated. If anything, it had only grown hotter.
    As she stood still and silent, he let his hand caress her hip, feeling the heated flesh beneath the silk of her gown. Then looping his arm around her waist, he jerked her to his chest.
    Soft, silken hands flattened against the bare muscle as her gaze widened and flew to his.
    “This isn’t necessary,” she retorted breathlessly.
    “Don’t think you can dominate me, Bailey,” he warned her carefully. “Don’t think you can dress me, or tell me how to conduct my part of this little operation. I’ve been handling my own tailors as well as my own jewelers for years.” His head lowered as he spoke until his lips were only a breath from hers.
    Damn her. She was strong, resilient, but she hadn’t yet learned that he was stronger and a hell of a sight more stubborn. She’d learned that lesson about Trent; now she had to learn it about John.
    “This isn’t a game we’re playing between ourselves,” he continued. “Don’t pretend that it is.”
    “Isn’t it?” A challenge flared in her eyes, like fire inside the purest emerald. “Don’t lie to me, John. Don’t pretend it’s any more than it really is. It’s a job. One we’re both determined to complete, nothing more.”
    “Like hell.”
    He’d be damned if he would allow her to leave here, on his arm, believing that load of crap that she was trying to convince herself of.
    She wanted to deny what was between them because she didn’t understand it, because she didn’t know who or what he was to her. He understood that. That didn’t mean he would tolerate it.
    Using one arm to hold her in place, he gripped the side of her face with his palm. As she parted her lips to blast him with that sharp tongue of hers, he took possession of it.
    Kissing Bailey was like being engulfed in flames. The damp heat of her tongue, the satiny softness of her lips beneath his, were like a narcotic that he couldn’t seem to rid himself of. The more he had of her, the more he wanted.
    He felt her hands slide slowly up his chest, hesitant, trembling, her fingers stroking against