Alex’s challenge, and, assuming he stuck to his word, she’d secured Jo’s and her own future, despite every second of the evening being torture. She had no further reason to stay.
So why wasn’t she making a run for it? Why wasn’t she seeking out the guest who’d offered her a lift on his private jet and looking forward to being back in London before sunrise? Why did her feet remain rooted to the ground?
Phoebe’s heart began to gallop as Alex closed the distance between them. He could have been born to wear black tie. He looked incredible. Dark and brooding and devastatingly handsome. He looked even better without the willowy blonde draped all over him, she thought tartly.
As he strode towards her, grim determination etched into his features, and a wild look in his eye, he pulled off his tie and snapped open the top button of his shirt, and Phoebe’s head spun.
An image of her undoing the rest of those buttons and tugging his clothes off him flew into her head and she nearly buckled beneath the force of the desire that whipped though her.
She swallowed hard and tried to ignore it, but it was no use. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She wanted Alex. She wanted him so badly that all he’d have to do was switch on the charm and the last vestiges of her resistance would crumble.
Her fingers itched to touch him. Her mouth tingled with the need to feel his lips moving over hers. She didn’t care any more. She might have successfully managed to avoid him, but his eyes had been on her all night, burning through the flimsy fabric of her dress and tangling up her insides. When their gazes hadlocked the hungry fire in his eyes had fanned the flames of desire that swept along her veins and all she wanted now was to assuage this deep craving that consumed her.
Alex stopped in front of her and Phoebe’s breath caught.
‘You look as if you’ve been enjoying yourself.’
Enjoying herself wouldn’t be quite how she’d describe the torment of trying to concentrate while battling the threat that the constant awareness of where Alex was and who he was with posed to her composure. ‘I have,’ she answered, inwardly amazed at how steady her voice sounded when inside she was a quivering mass of need. ‘It’s been a lovely party. Beautifully done.’
He shoved his hands in his pockets and his eyes glittered down at her. ‘And my challenge?’
‘Completed and detailed here.’ She held up a little notebook. ‘Impressed?’
A muscle pounded in his jaw. ‘I’d be a lot more impressed if you’d managed it without all the flirting.’
What? For a moment Phoebe could do nothing more than gape at him. Then she snapped her mouth shut and told herself to hang on before leaping to the wrong conclusion. ‘If you’d wanted to draw up conditions about how I raised the money,’ she said with a calmness she really didn’t feel, ‘you should have mentioned them before.’
‘I would have had I thought you’d resort to such obvious measures.’
That was it. The disdain in his voice tipped her over and a sudden explosion of anger erupted inside her. She’d done everything he’d demanded of her and for him to then turn round and accuse her of flirting… A swirling mass of incandescence and hurt and somethingstrangely like disappointment boiled in her veins. How could he even think that was what she’d been doing? Hadn’t he learnt anything about her?
‘I wasn’t flirting,’ she said icily. ‘It’s called taking an interest. Conversation. The exchange of information. Not that you’d know much about that.’
Alex let out a humourless laugh. ‘So the people you set your sights on just doled out the cash in a sudden fit of generosity?’
His voice dripped with sarcasm and Phoebe just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. ‘No, they didn’t. They offered things. Jewellery. Holidays. Wine.’
‘I bet they did. To you?’
‘No, of course, not to me,’ she snapped witheringly. ‘For the
So why wasn’t she making a run for it? Why wasn’t she seeking out the guest who’d offered her a lift on his private jet and looking forward to being back in London before sunrise? Why did her feet remain rooted to the ground?
Phoebe’s heart began to gallop as Alex closed the distance between them. He could have been born to wear black tie. He looked incredible. Dark and brooding and devastatingly handsome. He looked even better without the willowy blonde draped all over him, she thought tartly.
As he strode towards her, grim determination etched into his features, and a wild look in his eye, he pulled off his tie and snapped open the top button of his shirt, and Phoebe’s head spun.
An image of her undoing the rest of those buttons and tugging his clothes off him flew into her head and she nearly buckled beneath the force of the desire that whipped though her.
She swallowed hard and tried to ignore it, but it was no use. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She wanted Alex. She wanted him so badly that all he’d have to do was switch on the charm and the last vestiges of her resistance would crumble.
Her fingers itched to touch him. Her mouth tingled with the need to feel his lips moving over hers. She didn’t care any more. She might have successfully managed to avoid him, but his eyes had been on her all night, burning through the flimsy fabric of her dress and tangling up her insides. When their gazes hadlocked the hungry fire in his eyes had fanned the flames of desire that swept along her veins and all she wanted now was to assuage this deep craving that consumed her.
Alex stopped in front of her and Phoebe’s breath caught.
‘You look as if you’ve been enjoying yourself.’
Enjoying herself wouldn’t be quite how she’d describe the torment of trying to concentrate while battling the threat that the constant awareness of where Alex was and who he was with posed to her composure. ‘I have,’ she answered, inwardly amazed at how steady her voice sounded when inside she was a quivering mass of need. ‘It’s been a lovely party. Beautifully done.’
He shoved his hands in his pockets and his eyes glittered down at her. ‘And my challenge?’
‘Completed and detailed here.’ She held up a little notebook. ‘Impressed?’
A muscle pounded in his jaw. ‘I’d be a lot more impressed if you’d managed it without all the flirting.’
What? For a moment Phoebe could do nothing more than gape at him. Then she snapped her mouth shut and told herself to hang on before leaping to the wrong conclusion. ‘If you’d wanted to draw up conditions about how I raised the money,’ she said with a calmness she really didn’t feel, ‘you should have mentioned them before.’
‘I would have had I thought you’d resort to such obvious measures.’
That was it. The disdain in his voice tipped her over and a sudden explosion of anger erupted inside her. She’d done everything he’d demanded of her and for him to then turn round and accuse her of flirting… A swirling mass of incandescence and hurt and somethingstrangely like disappointment boiled in her veins. How could he even think that was what she’d been doing? Hadn’t he learnt anything about her?
‘I wasn’t flirting,’ she said icily. ‘It’s called taking an interest. Conversation. The exchange of information. Not that you’d know much about that.’
Alex let out a humourless laugh. ‘So the people you set your sights on just doled out the cash in a sudden fit of generosity?’
His voice dripped with sarcasm and Phoebe just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. ‘No, they didn’t. They offered things. Jewellery. Holidays. Wine.’
‘I bet they did. To you?’
‘No, of course, not to me,’ she snapped witheringly. ‘For the
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