Hot, Sexy & Bad

by Angelo, Judy, et al.

  She debated replacing the nightgown and sleeping in her slacks. Alyson had told her not to be offended if she didn’t meet Richard. He closed his restaurant late and opened it early. He was okay with her staying there for the weekend as long as he didn’t have to see her. A bit eccentric, but his house was certainly large enough to allow it.

  And his lack of interest in his houseguest made her choice of sleepwear irrelevant. Maddy held the pink nightgown up again. It really was beautiful and her clothing was damp from the rain. She didn’t plan to leave the suite that night. Giving in to impulse, she stripped and put on the delicately made lingerie. She took a blanket from the bedroom, dug her tablet out of her purse, and took both with her to the couch. Nothing else in her life was as she’d thought it would be, but rereading one of her favorite romances was soothing and provided a temporary escape from the reality that had sent her into a tailspin.

  Minet curled up on her feet, purring loudly. Maddy closed her eyes, lulled by the rhythmic sound, and didn’t notice when she dropped her tablet to one side. The story on the page continued like a movie in her dream. A wondrous passionate scene where all of her wanton desires were being fulfilled by a beefy broody cowboy.

  Tired and irritated with himself for having agreed to a houseguest for the weekend, Richard entered his mansion. The lack of lighting gave him hope. There was a chance his sister had come to her senses and taken her friend where she belonged—a hotel. Or back to her ex-lover. Anywhere but his house.

  He should have never agreed to it, but the mention of his mother and her previous states of desperation had been enough to confuse a yes out of him.

  The cat he’d never named, because he had no intention of keeping it even though it had lived with him for a year, did not meet him at the door as it normally did. It didn’t twirl around his legs, half tripping him, as he made his way to hang his coat. Nor did it run up the staircase ahead of him in a wild attempt to beat him to his bedroom, hoping that it would be allowed to claim a lower corner of the bed if it got there first.

  No the cat was strangely absent, which meant that someone else might indeed be present. Richard opened the door to a guest suite in his home. There on the couch, curled on one side beneath a solid blue comforter, lay his unwanted guest, peacefully sleeping. He stepped closer. Her chestnut curls were loose and spread around her in a cascade of hair, looking so soft he fought the urge to touch it.

  She moaned softly in her sleep and shifted, revealing only the slightest hint of what filled her dreams. Her lips parted slightly and she moaned again, sending Richard’s heart into a rapid beat.

  He knew he should walk away and leave her to her dreams, but he couldn’t. He stood over her, wondering what color her eyes were and if her body matched the beauty of her face. It probably did. When a woman decided to trade her self-respect for the comforts a rich man could provide her, staying trim was often an unspoken part of the deal. His mother was both beautiful and physically fit. She had to be or she wouldn’t be able to lure men, one after another, into marriages with lucrative prenuptials. If his mother cared as much about her family as she did about landing her next husband, he might talk to her more than once a year. For now, a brief phone conversation every twelve months was all he could stomach.

  Regardless of how innocent the woman before him appeared, he knew the truth about her and that was enough to counter the temptation of her perfect features. It was no surprise that she’d talked his sister into depositing her at his house—a woman like her would always be on the prowl for another man to support her. He wondered if he should tell her that most of his money was tied up in his restaurant and the mansion he’d never been able to part with.

  No diamond necklaces here, ma puce. Sorry to have wasted your time.

  The cat raised itself from its curled position at her feet, then lowered its head, and dug its claws into her ankles. She partially woke with a start and swatted one hand at the air above the cat, before she seemed to come more to her senses and groggily pulled the cat to her chest in apology. “Oh, it’s you. For a minute there I thought you were—I don’t know what I thought, but you should be a more careful kitty when you’re waking someone up. I’m still jumpy.”

  American. Just my luck. His restaurant filled with them around the holidays. Why not in my home, too? “My fault,” Richard said dryly in English.

  Her eyes flew to his and, before he could say more, she screamed in a high volume that made him grateful his neighbors were acres away or they surely would have called the police. She clutched the cat to her chest with such force that it also screeched.

  He stepped closer to intervene, fearing the cat would turn and claw the poor woman. His quick approach elicited a second scream from the woman. “Arrête,” he ordered impatiently and seized the cat. “You’re scaring him.”

  Red-faced, the woman scrambled to stand and reprimanded him. “Then stop scaring me.”

  With the now-calm cat tucked beneath one arm, Richard said coldly, “I was merely coming in to check on my houseguest.” He stressed the last word, making his feelings about having her there quite clear.

  She stepped forward and her jaw dropped open. “You’re Alyson’s brother?”

  “You were expecting someone else?”

  “No, I just thought you’d be—” She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she gave him one more appreciative look-over then blushed. “Shorter,” she said, finishing, then blushed again.

  Appreciative looks from a woman were something he normally enjoyed, but hers lit a fire within him so intense that it shook him. Without the comforter, the lamp behind her illuminated her gown in such a way that it became mostly transparent and his heart began to beat double time in his chest. Her long brown curls ended just short of the tips of her beautiful breasts, which were now quite visible to him. Small and pert, just as he liked them. He forced himself to raise his focus to her face and reeled beneath a second punch of attraction when their eyes met.

  Those eyes, Mon Dieu, how they completed the package: dark and rich like a fine chocolate and flashing with temper. She was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And probably the most dangerous. Women like her knew how to use their beauty to manipulate.

  In what was likely a false show of modesty, she looked down at herself, gasped, and hastily wrapped herself in the comforter. She looked up at him from beneath her long lashes and said, “I’m sorry I screamed, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Really? He doubted that. “I’d think a woman like you would be used to waking up in a great many unusual places.” The words angrily burst from him before he knew he intended to say them.

  Pink spread up her neck and cheeks. She hugged the blanket tighter around her. “Well, that’s rude and uncalled for. Your sister said you were fine with me staying here. If that’s not the case, all you have to do is say so.” She turned away from him, then spun back and advanced a few steps. “But who are you to judge me, anyway? Even if I’ve slept with a hundred men—or half of France for that matter—how would that affect you? All you know is that I needed a place to stay and your sister brought me here. I could be running from the most horrific experience and you would be demeaning an already tormented woman. Which one of us should be ashamed?”

  Her passionate speech sent hot flames of desire through him. Right. Wrong. Guilty or innocent: he no longer cared. He didn’t want to be attracted to her, but he was. He closed the distance between them and leaned down until his lips almost touched hers, testing. Her lips parted and her hot breath mixed with his. He knew he should tell her to leave. He didn’t want or need a woman like her in his life. But the words remained unspoken and the air between them sizzled with sexual tension unlike anything he’d ever felt before. “What’s your name?”

  Seemingly as mesmerized by him as he was by her, she murmured, “Madison. My friends call me Maddy.”

  He rolled her name over his tongue. “Madison. No last name?” Insane as it felt, he wanted—
no needed—to know more about her. He needed to test the attraction between them, pull her to him, see her eyes light with a fire just for him. He was a passionate man and one who was not ashamed of his fondness for women. Most women. Not ones who collected men like some collect shoes, discarding them when they came across something better.

  He knew better than to get involved with a woman like that.

  But he couldn’t step away.

  She met his eyes, looking like she wanted to give herself to him even as she denied him with her words. “Not one that you need to know. Especially since it looks like I’ll be leaving tonight.”

  He ran a finger lightly down one side of her neck, tracing the wild pulse there. “You don’t have to. I may be able to help you.”

  “Really?” she asked breathlessly.

  He gave her a lusty grin. “Yes, if your goal is to claim that you’ve slept with all of France, who am I to stand in your way?”

  Her cheeks reddened and she raised an impulsive hand toward his face. He caught it easily and simply held it to one side. He was toying with her and they both knew it. Her temper excited him. Was she as impulsive in bed? He was sorely tempted to find out. “Why so angry? I’m no longer judging you. In fact, I applaud your—enthusiasm.”

  “You’re a real jerk,” she said, attempting, but failing, to pull her hand free from his.

  “I’ve been called worse—tonight, in fact.”

  “Let go of my hand.”

  He brought it to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist before releasing it. “You intrigue me. Outraged virgin or high-paid whore? You’d have me believe that you’re fearful and on the run from someone, yet you claim my home with the arrogance of someone who is used to getting what she wants. I tell myself it doesn’t matter, but I’ve always enjoyed a good puzzle.” He tugged on the sides of her large wrap and sent her forward, flush against him. “I’ve never liked to be given a recipe. I prefer to taste the food, let it fill my senses, and discover each ingredient myself. Then and only then is it mine to experiment with.” He brought his lips down close to hers again and flicked his tongue over her bottom lip in invitation. “Let me taste you, Madison. I promise, I will make sure your pleasure surpasses my own.”

  She put a hand on his chest as if to push him away, but it merely rested between them over his wildly beating heart, and shook her head as if trying to clear it. “I may have given you the wrong impression.”

  Following his instincts he licked the exposed curve of her neck and felt her shudder with pleasure against him. Desire for her swept away the last of his resolve. He was a man who believed in following his passions. And tonight, everything else faded away until there was only one woman and his need for her. “I don’t care about why you’re here. All I care about is this.” He claimed her mouth with all the passion building within him and loved how her tongue met his eagerly.

  Holy Moly.

  Nothing in Madison’s sexual past had prepared her for the instant attraction she’d felt when Richard had stepped out of the darkness. A few inches over six feet with a deliciously muscled body, he was definitely not how she’d imagined a chef. Now, moments after meeting him, she was kissing him more intimately than she’d ever kissed one of her boyfriends. His hands cupped her buttocks and held her firmly against him. She should be afraid. Throw-all-decorum-to-the-wind lust doesn’t happen outside of the movies, does it? And if it does, you should at least know the other person. So this is what happens when you wear see-through thongs.

  So much for him not noticing I’m here.

  She arched backward to allow him access to her shoulder. Maddy’s own desire surged. Passion seared through her and nothing mattered except the heat that was spreading through her and the need to be closer to him. He trailed kisses across her exposed collarbone and she arched even farther back, desperately wanting to feel those hot kisses farther down. Her nipples tightened and begged for his attention.

  I’m not the kind of woman who has a one-night stand.

  Any stand for that matter.

  Maddy shivered with desire against Richard when he cupped one of her breasts in his hand. His thumb circled and teased. His breath warmed her as his mouth replaced his hand. He suckled her, his hot wet tongue circling her. She felt the gentle tug all the way down through her stomach. Her body readied itself for him, pulsing and tingling.

  How can a bad idea feel so good? Every place he touched burned for him. Every place he didn’t, yearned for him. I should stop now before this gets out of control.

  If it’s not already.

  As if he could hear her inner debate, Richard raised his head. His eyes were ablaze with desire for her, but his voice was soft, “What is it?”

  What is it not? I’ve left everything I know behind to shack up with a stranger and, instead of locking my door and seeking a way to make a dangerous choice safer, I’m seriously considering throwing my moral compass in the trash.

  “I’m a virgin,” she blurted.

  He gripped her by both upper arms and demanded, “A what?”

  Embarrassment flooded in and she tried to pull away from him. “You heard me.”

  Richard’s hands tightened on her arms painfully. “Are you joking?”

  I wish I were.

  Richard bent, lifted the blanket off the floor, and tossed it at her. He was saying something angrily in French, and for once she wished she’d paid attention to her language tutors. Although when they said I’d need the skill someday, I’m sure they never imagined this scenario. “A minute ago you didn’t care who I’d slept with. Why does it matter if I haven’t been with anyone?”

  Have I lost my mind? Am I actually arguing for him to continue pawing me?

  He paced in front of her, running his hands through his hair and cursing in French. She had no problem translating most of that. Some profanity is universal. He grabbed her by an arm again and swung her to face him. “I don’t sleep with virgins.”

  “Fine,” she said and wanted to kick herself for sounding less mature with each word that came out of her mouth. She unsuccessfully tried to pull her arm free from him.

  He stood in front of her, close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his angry glare with one of her own. “What about your lover? Did he expect something in return for supporting you? Is that why you left him?”

  Still feeling a bit raw from his refusal, Maddy snapped, “This isn’t about a man.”

  “So, you lied to my sister?”

  Oh, yeah, that. “She assumed that was why I looked upset. I just didn’t correct her.” Because apparently lying runs in my family.

  “Are you in trouble with the law?”

  Maddy almost laughed, until she realized that he wasn’t kidding. “No, but I needed to find someplace where I could think.”

  “And you thought you could do that here?”

  She raised her chin defiantly. “You were supposed to be short and fat.”

  A corner of his mouth lifted, as if her comment amused him despite his annoyance. As he continued to look at her, his expression changed and with unexpected compassion he asked, “Did someone hurt you?”

  The question threw her. They had, but not the way she knew he was thinking. It was too complicated and the details could potentially hurt her family if they were public, so she merely shook her head.

  He didn’t believe her. He rubbed a hand roughly over his face as if trying to clear his thoughts. “You don’t have to lie to me. You’re safe here.”

  “Am I?” she asked hoarsely. They both knew what she was asking.

  With his features set in harsh, cold lines, he said, “It was a kiss. People do more on the dance floor after a few drinks.”

  Where do you dance? Maddy thought with a gurgle of nervous laughter bubbling in her throat. “I should probably still go.”

  “I told you you’re safe here. Nothing further is going to happen between us.”

  “Because I’m a virgin?”

  He growled something
in French beneath his breath. “Oui, and too young for me.”

  Let it go, the voice of reason in her pleaded, but she couldn’t. “You’re not much older than I am.”

  “In years, perhaps not. In experience, we couldn’t be more different. Sex to me is like a good meal, pleasant but not necessarily best always served from the same cook. Could you handle that?”

  “No.”

  “That, ma puce, is why you are perfectly safe here tonight.” He turned and headed toward the door of the suite.

  Once he walked out Maddy doubted she’d ever see him again. Despite their verbal clashes, the thought made her a bit sad. What do you say to someone who just made a decision you should have—one you would have if you weren’t so angry with the world that a dose of danger felt good? “Richard,” she called out to him softly and he stopped. “Thank you.”

  He turned slowly and leaned against the door jam, watching her cautiously, “It’s not a problem.” Then he smiled a bit playfully and in a beautifully sexy French drawl said, “Well, it was less a problem before I saw those beautiful breasts of yours, but it’s nothing a cold shower won’t fix.”

  The connection they’d felt earlier deepened when she smiled at his joke and he smiled back. There was more intimacy in that moment than there had been when they’d been kissing and ripping at each other’s clothing, and it shook Maddy. She didn’t want him to leave, but she wasn’t brave enough to ask him to stay. “I should have been honest with your sister. I’m here because I quarreled with my father. Have you ever been put in a situation where you have to do something, but no matter what you do—you know nothing will ever be the same?”

  His expression darkened with the pain of some memory. “Oui.”