The Ultimate Playboy

by Maya Blake

  ‘There’s nothing happening—’

  ‘If you believe that then you really are naïve.’

  Another couple danced closer. The flash of red hair distracted Ruby enough to make her look. Redhead was in the arms of another man but her hungry eyes were fixed squarely on Narciso.

  Irrational irritation jerked up Ruby’s spine.

  Pursing her lips, she tilted her chin at the redhead. ‘Why don’t you help yourself to her? She definitely wants you.’

  He didn’t bother to glance where Ruby indicated. He merely smiled and shrugged. ‘Every woman wants me.’

  ‘Wow, you’re not the shy type at all, are you?’ she snapped.

  He leaned forward, and a swathe of luxurious black hair fell over his forehead to curl over the top of his mask. ‘Are those the types that turn you on?’ he whispered.

  The image of shy, self-effacing...duplicitous Simon fleeted across her mind. She stiffened. ‘We’re not discussing my tastes here.’

  ‘I’ve clearly hit a nerve. But if you don’t tell me what your tastes are, how will I know how to please you?’ His mouth was a hair’s breadth from her ear.

  Ruby fought to breathe. Her chest was a mere inch from his but her lower body was plastered against his in a way that made his body’s response blatant and unmistakable.

  He was aroused. And he meant her to know it.

  Her abdomen clenched so forcefully, she lost her footing and stumbled.

  Strong hands righted her and began to pull her back into his arms but Ruby quickly stepped back.

  ‘You can start by buying me a drink.’

  He reluctantly dropped his hand from her waist. Expecting overwhelming relief, Ruby frowned when it didn’t arrive.

  A white-jacketed waiter hovered nearby. ‘Champagne?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Something else.’

  Something that would take several minutes to make and give her time to get her perplexing emotions under control.

  ‘State what you wish,’ he said.

  She almost blurted her reason for being in Macau there and then. But this wasn’t the right time. She needed to get him alone, in a place where he couldn’t blow her off as easily as his employees had these past weeks.

  Casting her gaze around, she pointed to the far side of the room. ‘There.’

  ‘The ice-vodka lounge? Is this a delaying tactic?’

  ‘Of course not. I really want a drink.’

  He watched her for several seconds, then he nodded.

  This time her relief was tangible. But the reprieve didn’t last long. His arm slid possessively around her waist as he led her off the dance floor.

  She was suppressing the rising tide of that damned chemistry when he leaned in close. ‘You’re only trying to delay the inevitable, tesoro.’

  ‘I have no idea what you mean.’

  His laughter drew gazes and turned heads. Ruby had a feeling everything this man did compelled attention. And not just of the female variety.

  Powerful men stepped aside as he steered her towards the vodka lounge. A faux-fur coat appeared as if by magic and he draped it over her shoulders before they entered the sub-zero room. She headed for an empty slot at the bar, near an ice sculpture carved in the shape of a Chinese dragon.

  The bartender glanced at her unmasked face with a frown.

  ‘I’d like a Big Apple Avalanche, please. Heavy on the apple.’ She needed a clear head if she intended to stay toe to toe with Narciso Valentino.

  The bartender didn’t move. ‘I don’t think you’re allowed—’

  ‘Is there a problem?’ The hard rasp came from over her shoulder.

  The bartender snapped to attention. ‘Not at all, sir.’ He grabbed the apple mixer and the canister of top-range vodka.

  ‘I’ll take it from here.’ Narciso took the drinks from him and waved him away.

  Despite the warmth of her coat, she shivered when he turned to her.

  ‘Ready?’

  God, this wasn’t going well at all. Far from feeling under control, she felt her thoughts scatter to the wind every time he looked into her eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she said as she inserted the specialised drinking spout into the ice outlet and brought her lips to it.

  Her eyes met molten silver ones and fiery heat rushed into her belly. He slowly tipped the canister and icy vodka and apple pooled into her mouth.

  Cold and heat simultaneously soothed and burned their way down her throat but the power of the decadent drink came nowhere close to the potent gleam in his eyes.

  Before discovering Simon’s duplicity, sex had been something she’d imagined in abstract terms; something she’d accepted would eventually happen between them, once the trust and affection she’d thought was growing between them was solid enough to lean on.

  Sex just for the sake of it, or used as a weapon the way she’d watched her parents use it, had made being a virgin at twenty-four an easy choice.

  But looking into Narciso’s eyes, she slowly began to understand why sex was a big deal for some women. Why they dwelled on it with such single-minded ferocity.

  Never had she wanted to drown in a man’s eyes. Never had she wanted to kiss sensually masculine lips the way she wanted to kiss him right now. She wanted to feel those arms around her again, holding her prisoner the way they’d held her on the dance floor. She wanted to spear her fingers through his luxurious hair, scrape her nails over his scalp and find out if it brought him pleasure.

  ‘Have another one,’ he commanded huskily. He raised the sterling silver mixer, his gaze riveted on her mouth.

  He wanted to kiss her badly. The same way she wanted to kiss him. Or would have if she didn’t know from painful experience how treacherous and volatile sexual attraction could be.

  ‘No, thanks. It’s getting late. I need to go.’

  One beautifully winged brow rose. ‘You need to go.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And where exactly do you intend to go?’

  She frowned. ‘Back to my hotel, of course.’

  He slowly lowered his arm. ‘I thought you understood your role here,’ he murmured coolly.

  Icy foreboding shivered down her spine. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It means, the moment the last guest arrived, the whole building went into lock down. You’re stuck here with me until tomorrow at six.’ He discarded the canister and stepped closer. ‘And I have the perfect idea of how we can pass the time.’

  * * *

  Narciso watched a myriad expressions dart over her face.

  Excitement. Anxiety. Suspicion.

  Two of those three weren’t what he expected from a woman when he announced they were effectively locked in together. Most women would be salivating at the thought and making themselves available before he changed his mind.

  Not this one.

  Even the hint of excitement was fading. Now she just looked downright frightened.

  He frowned. ‘I expected a more enthusiastic response.’

  Her gaze went to the watch—his watch—then back to his face. Narciso decided not to think about why the sight of his large watch on her delicate wrist pleased him so much.

  He would gift it to her. She could keep it on during sex. Once he’d dispelled that unacceptable look from her face.

  ‘You just told me I can’t leave. And you expect me to be excited?’

  ‘You have some of the world’s richest and most influential men gathered in one place. Everyone who attends these events has the same agenda—network hard and party harder, especially the Petit Qs. You, on the other hand, are acting as if you’ve received a prison sentence. Why?’

  Her eyelids lowered and she grabbed the lapels of her coat.

  Faint al
arm bells rang at the back of his mind. Going against a habit of a lifetime, he forced himself to ignore it as she raised those delicate lids to lock gazes with him.

  Her sapphire-blue eyes held a combination of boldness and shyness that hugely intrigued him. She wanted something but wasn’t quite sure how to get it.

  He had every intention of showing her how to get exactly what she wanted once he got her to his suite upstairs. He might even tempt her into using the velvet ropes that held back his emperor-size bed’s drapes...

  Desire slammed into him with a force he hadn’t experienced in years...if ever. The strength of it struck him dumb for a few seconds before he realised she was speaking.

  ‘...knew about the club, of course, and that my hostessing gig was for two days. I didn’t know I’d be staying here for the duration.’

  ‘Ah, one small piece of advice. Always read the small print.’

  Her delicious mouth pursed. He had the sudden, clamouring urge to find out if it tasted as succulent as it looked. Her narrowed-eyed glare stopped him. Barely.

  ‘I always do. I can’t say the same for other people though. Especially people who have the small print pointed out to them and still wilfully ignore it.’

  The alarm bells grew louder. ‘That’s decidedly...pointed. Care to elaborate?’

  She opened her mouth, then shut it again. ‘I’m cold. Can we leave?’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea.’ He walked her to the door of the ice bar and helped her out of her coat.

  The sight of her hardened nipples—an effect of the sub-zero temperature—fried a few million brain cells. That clawing hunger gutted him further, making him fight to remember whether he was coming or going.

  Going. Definitely. Up to his allocated suite with this woman who sparked a reaction within him that left him reeling, and wanting more. He hadn’t wanted anything this badly for a long time. Not since his eleventh birthday...

  He shut off his thoughts and walked her to the lift, absurdly pleased when she didn’t protest. Perhaps she’d accepted the inevitable.

  They were meant to be together. Here in this place where the events of earlier this evening with Giacomo had nearly soured his experience.

  She would take away the bitterness for a while. Take away his unsettling hollowness when he’d held the old man’s financial demise in his grasp but hadn’t taken it.

  All would be better in the morning.

  For tonight, he intended to seek the most delicious oblivion.

  ‘Should I bother to ask where you’re taking me now?’

  His smile felt tight and his body on edge. ‘No. Don’t bother. What you should ask is how many ways will I make you like what’s coming next.’ He activated the electronic panel. When the chrome panel slid back to reveal the row of buttons he selected the fiftieth floor for his penthouse suite.

  ‘If you’re planning to throw a few more millions away, then I’d rather not watch.’ Again there was that censorious note in her voice that strummed his instincts.

  From experience he knew women always had hidden agendas, be it the urge to make themselves indispensable in his life the moment he so much as smiled their way or to take advantage of his power and influence—as well as his body—for as long as possible.

  But the woman in front of him was exhibiting none of those traits. And yet there was something... Narciso didn’t like the mixed signals he was receiving from her.

  ‘Have we met before?’ he demanded abruptly, although he was sure he would have remembered. She had an unforgettable body, and that mouth... He was absolutely certain he would have remembered that mouth.

  ‘Met? No, of course not. Besides, I don’t know who you are, remember?’

  ‘If you don’t know who I am then how do you know we haven’t met before?’

  Her eyes shifted away from his. ‘I...don’t know. I just think a man like you...I’d have remembered...that’s all.’

  He smiled at her flustered response, deciding he definitely liked her flustered. ‘I like that you think I’m unforgettable. I aim to make that thought a permanent reality for you.’

  ‘Trust me, you already have,’ she quipped.

  Narciso got the distinct impression it wasn’t a compliment.

  He stepped forward. She stepped back. Her eyes widened when she realised she was trapped against the wall of the lift. His pulse thundered when her gaze darted to his mouth and then back to his eyes.

  ‘Somewhere along the line, I seem to have made a bad impression on you. Normally I wouldn’t care but...’ He stepped closer, until the warmth of her agitated exhalations rushed over his chin. Her scent hit his nostrils and he nearly moaned at the seductive allure of it.

  ‘But...?’ she demanded huskily.

  ‘But I find myself wanting to alter that impression.’

  ‘You want me to think you’re a good guy?’

  Laughing, he slid his hand around her trim waist. ‘No. Good is taking things a touch too far, amante. I haven’t been good since...’ he blunted that knife of memory again ‘...for ever.’

  Her darkened eyes dropped to his mouth again and Narciso barely stopped himself from groaning. But he couldn’t stop his hands from tightening on her waist. In contrast to her lush hips, her waist was so tiny, his hands spanned it easily.

  ‘Then what do you want from me?’

  Before he could succinctly elaborate, the lift doors slid open. The double doors leading into his suite beckoned. Beyond that the bedroom where he intended to make her his.

  He grasped her wrist and tugged her after him. Using the smartwatch to activate the smaller panel, he pressed his thumb against the infrared scanner and pushed the doors open. He didn’t bother to shut it because the doors were automatic. Security was exemplary at all Q Virtus events, especially the private suites. He had the whole floor to himself and no one would disturb them unless he wanted them to.

  And he had no desire for any interruptions—

  He noticed she’d stopped dead and turned to find her staring at him.

  ‘You’ve brought me to your suite,’ she blurted.

  The pulse pounding at her throat could’ve been excitement. Or more likely it was the trepidation he’d seen earlier.

  ‘Very observant of you.’

  ‘Know this now—I won’t be indulging in anything...illicit with you.’

  ‘Since we haven’t established exactly what it is we’ll be doing I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.’

  ‘I wish you’d stop toying with me.’

  His shoulders moved with the restlessness that vibrated through his whole being. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to work this hard to get a woman to acknowledge her interest in him. ‘Fine. Do you deny that there’s something powerful and undeniable happening between us?’

  ‘I don’t want—’

  ‘If you really don’t want to be here, say the word and I’ll let you leave.’ That wasn’t strictly true. First he’d use his infinite skills to convince her to stay. Arrogance didn’t come into his awareness that he was attractive to most women, and, despite her mixed signals, this woman was as attracted to him as he was to her.

  She might need a little more work than usual—and the thought wasn’t unpleasing—but he was more than up to the task.

  He watched her debate with herself for an endless minute. Then she turned towards the window.

  Narciso forced himself to remain still, despite his every cell screeching at him to grab her. Picking up a control device, he pushed the button that allowed the glass windows to turn from opaque to transparent.

  Macau City lay spread before them in a cascade of lights, glittering water and awe-inspiring ancient Portuguese, Chinese and modern architecture.

  Since he’d started doing business here, his fascinat
ion with the city had grown along with his bank balance.

  But right now his fascination with her was much more paramount.

  ‘Tell me you’ll stay.’ His voice emerged rougher than normal.

  The thought that he wanted her badly, alarm bells or no alarm bells, made him frown. He’d trained himself not to want anything he absolutely could not have. It was why he calculated his every decision with scalpel-like precision.

  That way he avoided disappointment. Avoided...heartache...

  She turned from the window, arms crossed at that tiny waist. Her response took a minute, two at a stretch, but they were the longest minutes of Narciso’s life.

  ‘I’ll stay...for a little while.’

  He swallowed and nodded. Suddenly, his fingers itched to remove the pins in her hair, to see its silky dark gold abundance cascade over her shoulders.

  ‘Take your hair down,’ he instructed. The time for playing was over.

  Her eyes widened. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I want to see it. And because you’re staying.’

  Her fingers touched the knot at the back of her head. Anticipation spiked through him only to be doused in disappointment when she lowered her hand.

  ‘I prefer to keep it up.’

  ‘If you’re trying to keep me hyped up with interest, trust me, it’s working.’

  ‘I’m not, I mean... My hair is no big deal.’

  ‘It is to me. I have a weakness for long hair.’

  Her head tilted to one side, exposing a creamy neck he longed to explore. ‘If I take my hair down, will you take your mask off?’

  As much as he wanted to rip his mask off, something told him to delay the urge. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘My house, my rules.’

  ‘That’s not fair, is it?’

  ‘If life was fair you’d be naked and underneath me by now.’

  A blush splashed up her exquisite throat and stung her cheeks. Molten lust rushed into his groin and spread through his body. Feeling restricted and seriously on edge, he shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and flung it over the long sofa. Next came the bow tie. He left that dangling to tackle the top buttons of his shirt and looked up to find her gaze riveted on him.