The Ultimate Playboy

by Maya Blake

  ‘No! Why on earth would I want that?’ She edged away from him, the fear that her emotions wouldn’t be as easy to control around this man spiking through her.

  ‘It’s nearly two a.m. And we’re yet to have our little tête-à-tête. But if you want to keep cutting off your circulation in that restricting dress, suit yourself. Tell me why you’re here,’ he bit out, as if he wanted to be done with the conversation.

  ‘Release me first,’ she insisted.

  ‘I released you three minutes ago.’

  Shocked, Ruby glanced down at her wrists. Sure enough, the velvet rope was loose enough to free herself. She’d been too spellbound by his kiss to notice.

  She met his hard, mocking gaze. Rubbing her right wrist, she encountered his watch. She pulled it off and held it out to him.

  He didn’t take it. ‘I’m waiting for an answer.’

  ‘My name is Ruby Trevelli.’

  He continued to stare at her. ‘Should that mean anything to me?’

  Despite knowing how self-absorbed he was, that flippant question hurt. She flung his watch on the bed. He calmly retrieved it, took hold of her wrist, slipped it back on, and returned to his predator-like position.

  ‘What—?’

  ‘Answer me. Should your name mean anything to me?’

  ‘Yes. I was recently voted Élite Chef.’

  His lips twisted. ‘My apologies. I don’t keep up with pop culture,’ he said.

  ‘Well, you should. Your TV company sponsored the show.’

  He frowned. ‘I have over sixty media companies scattered all over the world. It would be impossible to keep up with every progamme that’s aired through my networks. So you’re here to collect some sort of prize—is that it?’ The disappointment she’d heard earlier was back, accompanied this time by a flash of weariness that disappeared as quickly as it’d arrived.

  ‘You make it sound like a whimsical endeavour. I assure you, it’s not.’

  ‘Enlighten me, then, Miss Contest Winner. Why have you flown thousands of miles to accost me?’

  Put like that it did sound whimsical. Except this was her life and livelihood they were talking about, the independent life she’d worked hard for so she wouldn’t be pulled into her parents’ damaging orbit. The life that was being threatened by a loan shark.

  ‘I want your company to honour its agreement and pay me what I’m owed.’

  His face hardened into a taut, formidable mask of disdain. ‘You came after me because of money?’ His sneer had thickened.

  Ruby couldn’t really dwell on that. She needed to state her purpose and leave this room, this suite. He was close, so tantalisingly close, the warmth of his skin and the spicy scent of his aftershave made stringing words together an increasingly difficult task. He smelled like heaven. And she wanted to drown in it.

  ‘Prize money, yes.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘But why come after me? Why not go after the man I’ve put in place to head NMC?’

  ‘You think I haven’t tried? No one would take my calls.’

  ‘Really? No one in a company with over a thousand employees?’

  ‘No. Trust me, I have the phone bill to prove it.’

  ‘Well, clearly, I need to hire better staff.’

  ‘I don’t like your tone,’ Ruby snapped. She sidled towards the edge of the bed.

  He caught her and placed her back in front of him, keeping her captive with one large hand on her waist.

  ‘What tone do you mean?’ Silver eyes gleamed with cynical amusement.

  With every breath she took, the imprint of his hand seared her skin. ‘You obviously don’t believe me. Why would I travel thousands of miles unless it was because I’d hit a brick wall?’

  ‘Or you’d hoped an extra tight dress and body that won’t quit would get you an even better deal?’

  The image his words conjured up made blood leach from her face. It was one she’d vowed never to portray. ‘I understand you don’t know me, Mr Valentino, but I’ve never used sex or my sexuality to further my career. You can be as offensive and as delusional as you want. The simple fact is Nigel Stone never took my call in the two dozen times I tried to reach him.’

  His eyes narrowed at her furious words but he kept silent.

  ‘We can resolve this very quickly. Call him now, get him to talk to me. Then I’ll get out of your hair.’

  ‘It’s Saturday morning back in the States. I make it a point never to disturb my employees during the weekend.’

  Anger stiffened her spine. ‘Yeah, right.’

  His cynical smile widened. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘I believe you do exactly what you want when you want. If it suited you, you’d be on the phone right now.’

  His shrug outlined sleek muscle beneath his skin. He moved with an innate grace that made Ruby’s pulse race shamefully. ‘Fine. I admit I ride my employees hard when I have to. But I also recognise their need for down time the same way I recognise the need for mine.’

  ‘You’re telling me you need your beauty sleep to function?’ she snapped.

  ‘Down time doesn’t necessarily mean sleep, amante. Tonight, I was counting on wild, unfettered sex,’ he delivered smoothly.

  She flung herself away from him, from the temptation his words dredged up inside her, before that Trevelli gene she so feared could be fully activated.

  Far too often since she’d clapped eyes on him, she’d found herself imagining what sex would be like. Her roommate had referred to the best sex as sheet-clawing, toe-curling. At the time Ruby had silently scoffed at how anything besides the best, decadently prepared dessert would feel that great.

  Now she couldn’t stop herself from wondering...

  Disgust at herself propelled her off the bed. She refused to sink into the quagmire of rampant promiscuity.

  Her feet hit the luxurious carpet, bringing a much-needed return to reality. She darted out of the door and hurried along the long hallway towards the main suite doors.

  With relief, she grasped the door handle and yanked it down. Nothing happened. She pulled harder.

  Glancing around wildly, she spotted the electronic panel and pressed the most obvious-looking button.

  Nothing.

  ‘You can’t get out unless I allow you out.’

  She whirled. He casually leaned one shoulder against the hallway wall. The sight of him standing there, looking sexily tousled and half naked, made panic flare anew inside her.

  ‘Then let me out.’

  ‘I could. But once I do, any hope of a discussion about why you’re here ends. My company, if it’s liable as you say, owes you nothing the minute you walk out of here.’

  ‘That’s preposterous! I signed a contract. You signed a contract. You can’t just back out on a whim.’

  ‘Think about it, Ruby. You’ve travelled thousands of miles to get my attention. I intend to give you that attention. Do you think it prudent to walk out now, when you could be so close?’

  ‘I...’ She sucked in a breath as overwhelming feelings swamped her. ‘Why can’t we discuss it now?’

  ‘Because I don’t like to discuss business without a clear head. And since you’ve plied me with exquisite cocktails all evening, I’d be making those decisions under severe influence.’ He tilted his head again in that alarmingly endearing way and a lock of hair fell over his eyes.

  Dear God. This man was truly lethal. He oozed sex and sensuality without so much as lifting a finger.

  ‘You didn’t ply me with all those drinks in order to take advantage of me, did you? Because that would be horrifyingly disappointing.’

  Outraged, she gasped. ‘I most certainly did not.’

  Slowly, he extended a hand to her. ‘In that case, Ruby Trevelli, there’s no earthly r
eason not to stay. Is there?’

  * * *

  Narciso was doing his best to stop his fury from showing. The same way he was doing his best to keep from kicking himself for ignoring the alarm bells.

  Usually he could spot chancers and gold-diggers a mile away, be they tuxedo-clad or dressed in designer gowns that looked too small for them.

  For a moment he wished she’d kept her mouth shut until after he’d slept with her to make her avarice known. He would’ve been a lot more generous than he was feeling now.

  He would also have felt used.

  Fury mounted and his frustrated erection threatened to cut him in half as she stayed out of his reach. Out of his arms.

  Recalling her responsiveness, the gut-clenching potency of her kiss, he nearly growled.

  She kissed as if she were born for it. Narciso wondered how many men she’d kissed like that in the past and felt a red haze wash over his fury.

  Dio, what was wrong with him? He should find the nearest phone and report her to management.

  Zeus, his host and owner of the club, had so far excelled in keeping people like Ruby away from Q Virtus guests. Sure, most Petit Qs would accept a generous gift from a guest, but blatant stalking wasn’t tolerated.

  Except, his stalker seemed eager to get away from him, her catlike blue eyes apprehensive as she glanced at his outstretched hand.

  ‘Come here,’ he commanded.

  She swayed towards him, then abruptly halted her forward momentum. ‘If you’re too drunk to talk, what other reason is there for me to stay? And don’t mention wild sex. Because that’s not going to happen.’

  Contrary to what he’d said, his mind was as clear and as sharp as a fillet knife. And it sensed a curious dichotomy in her words and actions. The dress, make-up and screw-me stilettos said one thing. Her words indicated another.

  He intended to burrow until he found the truth.

  Nice choice of words, Narciso, he thought as arousal spiked higher in his blood. Lowering his hand, he turned abruptly.

  ‘I’m returning to the bedroom. If you’re not there within the next minute, I’ll take it that our business is concluded,’ he said over his shoulder.

  ‘Wait! You can’t do that...’

  Narciso smiled with satisfaction at her frustration. Whether she followed him or not, there was no way he was letting her out of his suite tonight. Not until he’d had her checked out thoroughly and satisfied himself what sort of threat she posed.

  He recalled the circumstances of their meeting. Of all the tables she could’ve been hostessing, she’d been at Giacomo’s table.

  This time he didn’t ignore the churning in his gut. Giacomo had played that game before...

  He turned and found her two steps behind him but any satisfaction was marred by the new set of questions clamouring for answers.

  ‘Why are you really here, Ruby? Did the old man send you?’

  Fresh trepidation flared in her eyes at his harsh tone. ‘Who... Oh, that guy you were playing with? No, I have no idea who he is and I’d never met him before tonight.’

  He tried to read her. Surely, even seasoned liars couldn’t look him straight in the eye as she was without flinching?

  ‘Be warned, if I find that to be untrue, there’ll be hell to pay.’

  ‘I’m telling you, I don’t know him.’ Her fingers meshed together and she began to fidget. But not once did her stare waver from his.

  Narciso decided to be satisfied. For now. He entered the bedroom and crossed to the en suite.

  ‘So I’m here. Now what?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m going to take a shower. You do whatever you want. As long as you don’t leave this room.’

  ‘God, this is nuts,’ he heard her mutter as he entered the bathroom. Despite the volatile emotions churning through him, he smiled. From the corner of his eye, he watched her head once more to the stunning view of Macau City.

  Silhouetted against the view, her body was so perfectly stunning, his mouth dried. Disappointment welled in his chest but he suppressed it as he undressed.

  The cold shower was bracing enough to calm his arousal but not enough to wash away the bitterness as he replayed his evening.

  Giacomo was bent on trying to take Narciso down.

  Well, that suited Narciso fine. Although Narciso could’ve destroyed him with that last move, the notion of leaving him dangling a little bit longer had been irresistible.

  The opportunity would present itself again soon enough. Giacomo was predictable in his hatred for him, if for nothing else.

  And at thirty, exactly ten years after his father’s most cutting betrayal, the need for vengeance burned just as brightly in Narciso’s veins.

  For as long as he’d been old enough to retain his memories, Narciso had known that Giacomo bore him a deep, abiding hatred. As a child he’d been bewildered as to why nothing he did pleased or satisfied the man he once called Papa.

  On his eleventh birthday, a whisky-soaked Giacomo had finally revealed to him the reason he detested the sight of his son. At first, even reeling from the shock of the discovery, Narciso had stupidly believed he could turn things around, make his father, if not love him, at least learn to cohabit peacefully with him. He’d made sure his grades were perfect, that he was quiet and obedient and exemplary in all things.

  Narciso’s mouth twisted. That had lasted all of a year before he’d accepted he was flogging a dead horse. When his thirteenth birthday had come and gone without so much as a single lit candle on a store-bought birthday cake, he’d finally admitted that war was the only way forward.

  He’d suppressed whatever heartache had threatened to catch him unawares in the dead of night and used animosity to feed his ambitions to succeed. He’d won scholarships to the best colleges in the world. His head for figures had seen him attain his first million by eighteen. By twenty he’d been a multimillionaire.

  Twenty...also the age he’d met Maria, the unexpected tool his father had used against him. The wound gaped another inch.

  With a sharp curse, he shut off the shower. Snapping up a towel, he tied it around his waist.

  Maria was dead to him, but, in a way, he was pleased for her transient presence in his life ten years ago. She’d reinforced his belief that lowering his guard, even for a moment, was foolhardy. That even fake love came at a steep price.

  Money and sex were the two things he thrived on now. Emotions...connections, hell, love, were a complete waste of his time.

  He entered the bedroom and found Ruby reclining on the bed, legs crossed, one bare foot tapping in agitation. She shot upright at his entry. After that one quick look, Narciso barely glanced in her direction as he walked to the connecting dressing room.

  The whole evening was screwed up. His thwarted efforts to bed her, and now his unexplained trip down memory lane had left him in an edgy mood. Snatching at his fast-dwindling control, he reached for the rarely used silk pajama bottoms and dropped his towel.

  The choking sound made him glance over his shoulder through the open door. She sat frozen on the bed, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  ‘Something wrong?’ he asked as he stabbed one leg into the garment. At her silence, he started to turn.

  She shut her eyes and jerked away from him. He pulled the bottoms on and entered the bedroom. ‘Open your eyes. It’s safe to look now.’

  She opened her eyes but kept her gaze averted.

  ‘Come on, now, the way you’re acting you’d think I was the first naked male you’d ever seen.’

  That gurgling sound came again and Narciso shook his head. ‘I have very little interest in virgins, amante. If you hope to snag my attention, I suggest you drop that particular act.’

  She inhaled sharply. ‘It’s not an—’ She bit off the rest of her answer as he drew b
ack the sheets.

  Four of the six pillows he threw to the floor before he got in. The sight of her sitting so stiffly made his jaw tighten. Reaching across, he pulled her into the middle and pulled the sheet over them.

  ‘You were saying?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Are you really going to sleep?’

  ‘Yes. I suggest you get some sleep too even though I fear for your circulation in that dress you’re wearing.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘If you say so.’ He relaxed against the pillows. Sleep would be elusive with her so close. For a moment he wondered why he was torturing himself like this.

  Keep your friends close and your stalkers closer?

  He suppressed a grim smile, grabbed the remote and doused the light in the bedroom. But with one sensory factor taken away, her erratic breathing became amplified.

  Good. If he was to be tortured with images of what sex between them would be like, it was only fair she experienced the same fate.

  ‘What happens tomorrow?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Tomorrow we talk. And by talk I mean you come clean, completely, as to why you’re here. Because if you hold anything back from me, I won’t hesitate to throw you to the wolves.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RUBY WOKE WITH the distinct feeling that something had changed. It took a millisecond to realise what that something was.

  ‘You took my clothes off?’ she screeched, her fingers flying to the hem of the black T-shirt that had miraculously appeared on her body.

  The man who lay so languidly beside her, his head propped up on his hand, nodded.

  ‘I feared you’d suffocate in your sleep in that dress. Despite your dubious reasons for being here, even I would find it difficult to explain death by designer gown to the authorities. You were quite co-operative. I think it was the only time you’ve been co-operative since we reached my suite, which tells me you were as uncomfortable as I suspected.’

  She licked her lips and struggled not to squirm under his scrutiny. At least her bra and panties were intact. But the fact was she didn’t recall what had happened. And there was only one worrying explanation for that. ‘I was tired,’ she bluffed.