A HIGH STAKES SEDUCTION Page 7

  What was it about Constance that got under his skin? John stood next to her as the wheel spun and the ball danced between black and red. She was so unlike the usual stream of glamorous women who hung around him, sniffing the scent of money or promising a steamy affair.

  Constance stood with her arms crossed over her prim suit, eyes fixed firmly on the table and not a hint of flirtation in her gestures.

  But he knew she was as attracted to him as he was to her. The shine in her eyes when she looked at him, the glow in her cheeks, the way she angled her body toward him unconsciously—it all spoke of the desire that crackled between them so forcefully you could almost hear it snap in the air.

  She didn’t want to like him. Or to want him. But somehow that only heightened the tension building as they stood next to each other, pretending to focus on the white ball.

  It dropped into a slot and the wheel slowed to a halt. One woman squealed with delight and smiled as the croupier slid a pile of chips toward her. John glanced at Constance and saw the tiny hint of a smile that hovered about her pretty mouth. “That’s why they keep coming back,” he said softly.

  “I can see how it would be fun.” She leaned into him so he could hear her but no one else could. Her scent tugged at his sense. “But I’d still rather make money the old-fashioned way.”

  “Me, too. I’ll take hard work over chance any day of the week.” He leaned still closer until he could almost feel the heat of her skin. “But everyone’s different.”

  Did he like her because she was different? It didn’t really make sense. There was no good reason to flirt with and tempt this woman. She was here on professional business and it was inappropriate for him to even have sensual thoughts about her.

  Yet he couldn’t seem to stop.

  As he’d promised, he had no intention of making her do anything she didn’t want to. But making her want to? That was a whole different story.

  * * *

  One time at a college mixer someone had given Constance a glass of orange juice mixed with vodka—without mentioning the vodka. She still remembered the way the world around her had grown blurry, and she’d found herself laughing at things that weren’t even funny. She felt like that right now, though she was sure she’d had nothing but fruit juice all evening.

  “...and then after we won every game that season, they wouldn’t let me go.” John leaned into her again, brushing her arm with his. Her skin sizzled inside her suit. “It was a pain in the ass. All I wanted to do was study statistics, and I had to get all this tiresome fresh air and sunshine.”

  She laughed. He’d been telling her about how he’d joined the college football team entirely for the scholarship money and then accidentally became their star player. Of course he had. He was one of those people who effortlessly succeeded at everything they tried. Or maybe not effortlessly. He just made it look that way.

  “It must get annoying being so good at everything.”

  “You think I’m bragging?”

  “I’m pretty sure of it.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to hide her smile. He hadn’t really volunteered any information she hadn’t asked for. She wanted to know more about him. At first she told herself she was doing “research.” Now she was too darn curious to stop. “What did your team members think of you?”

  “Oh, at first they made fun of me. Teased me for being from the backwoods of Massachusetts. They stopped laughing when they saw how fast I could run, though.”

  “Can you still run fast?” Her hand accidentally brushed his as she raised her drink to her lips. They’d moved to a sofa near the blackjack tables, where they had a good view of the whole room. Her thigh jostled against his, too. The sofa was soft and they kept sinking into it. The crowds milled about the gaming tables, ignoring them completely.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t tried lately. I’m still pretty quick on the squash court, though. Do you play any sports?”

  “No.” Maybe she should start. All this energy building up inside her needed some place to go. Right now she felt like jumping up and running around the room. “My parents thought sports were a waste of time.”

  “And you never did anything they didn’t want you to?”

  “Nothing major. I read some books they didn’t approve of, and they never knew I had a boyfriend.”

  “You kept your lover a secret from them?” He bumped against her, teasing.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No? It certainly sounds like it.”

  “He was at college with me in a different town, so they never met him.”

  “And you didn’t mention him. Was he someone they wouldn’t have approved of?” He raised a brow.

  She chuckled. “No. That’s the funny part. He was so dull they’d probably have liked him.” Was she really talking about Phil? She’d tried to shove him out of her mind. Which was hard, because six years later he was still the only boyfriend she’d ever had.

  At least now she could admit he wasn’t exactly the man of her dreams.

  “Why were you dating him if he was dull?”

  “I like dull.”

  John peered into her eyes. The effect of his dark gaze was anything but dull. Sensations she’d never felt before trickled through every part of her. “Why?”

  “Predictable. Reassuring. I don’t enjoy surprises.”

  “Or at least you think you don’t.” One brow lifted slightly. “Come with me.”

  He took her hand gently and helped her up from the squishy sofa. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I already told you I don’t like them.” Anticipation rippled in her tummy.

  “I don’t believe you.” He led her across the busy game room to the bank of shiny elevators. Her hand pulsed inside his. They were walking along like a couple, and while it horrified her, the realization gave her a strange thrill. She should pull her hand from his, but she didn’t.

  He pressed the button for the highest floor and shot her a mysterious look.

  “I’m not even going to ask,” she murmured, trying to keep her eyes on the door. Even while she knew he was flirting with her and leading her on, she trusted John not to pull any fast moves. They’d been talking for a while and he was clearly a man who took the concept of personal honor seriously. He saw himself as a role model for the younger members of the tribe and he’d said more than once that he never did anything he wouldn’t want them to know about.

  Of course, maybe he was just trying to undermine her defenses by appearing principled and thoughtful.

  What a shame it was working.

  The elevator opened at the top floor and she was surprised when the doors parted to reveal the night sky. “Wow, a roof terrace.” A broad expanse of marble, ringed with potted plants, glowed under the stars. “How come there’s no one up here?”

  “It’s not open to the public unless it’s booked for an event and, as you can see, there’s nothing happening here tonight except us.”

  Us. What did he mean by that? Nothing, probably. “That’s a lot of stars.” She felt as though she could see forever, bright galaxies twinkling all the way to infinity.

  “It’s nice being up here above all the lights. You can see clearly. I come up here when I need to get perspective.”

  “Feeling like a tiny speck in the vast universe certainly puts everything in perspective.”

  “Doesn’t it, though? All the worries that keep us little humans awake at night are nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

  He still held her hand, which had grown quite hot. They walked across the terrace to a seating area and he guided her onto a large sofa and sat down next to her.

  What am I doing? Up here there was no pretense that they were still working. Or that she was researching anything. She was simply sitting with John, her right thigh fully pressed against his left one as they both sank into the soft cushions. The cool night air emphasized the warmth of his body.

  “What do you worry about, Con
stance?” His hand squeezed hers very gently.

  “Sometimes I worry that I’ll never move out of my parents’ house.” She laughed, trying to lighten the moment.

  “Why haven’t you? You must earn enough to rent your own place.”

  “I don’t know, really. I keep thinking that I will, then another month or year passes and I’m still there.”

  “Maybe you’ve been waiting to meet the right man.”

  “Probably.” The confession surprised her. “After all, I’ve always been told a nice girl is supposed to live at home until she gets married.” She shrugged.

  “Why haven’t you met the right person yet?”

  “I work at an accounting firm. It’s not exactly a hotbed of romance.” She smiled.

  “Don’t accountants need love, too?”

  “Apparently so.” Was he trying to suggest that she go back and date one of her coworkers? That would be a strange suggestion from a man still holding her hand in his. “Why haven’t you married?” Curiosity pricked at her, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer. Why would a man in John’s position want to settle down with one woman when he could have a different one every week if he wanted?

  “I have been.”

  His answer shocked her so much she tried to pull her hand from his. “You’re divorced?” Her hand flew free, and the chill night air assaulted her hot palm.

  He nodded. “A long time ago. You’re shocked.”

  “I didn’t read that when I was researching you.”

  “It’s not common knowledge. I was married in high school, right before I went away to college. I thought it would help keep us together despite the physical distance.”

  “Which was only a hundred miles or so.”

  “Less than fifty, actually.” He grinned. “Young and stupid.”

  “Why did you split up?”

  “I was so busy with school that I didn’t make enough time for her and she met someone else. It proved to me that a marriage isn’t something that just happens. It takes a lot of work to keep it alive.”

  “And that scared you off trying it again?” She attempted to pull her thigh away from his but once again the sofa was too deep and she kept falling against him.

  “Pretty much.” His eyes twinkled in the darkness. “I know I’ve got my hands full with my business, and now with running the tribe, so I don’t want to disappoint someone else.”

  “Oh.” She felt a surprising sting of disappointment, which annoyed her. Had she really imagined somewhere in the darkest recesses of her mind that John might have real feelings for her? She was getting carried away! “So you probably won’t get married again.”

  “I damn sure will.” His conviction startled her. “Don’t count me out yet.”

  “I can see you feel strongly about it.” Her smile matched his. How did he keep doing that to her? Any sensible woman would leap to her feet and go admire the view on the far side of the patio, away from this man who freely admitted he didn’t have time for a relationship.

  “Oh, I do feel strongly about it. In addition to any personal considerations, I have a responsibility to the Nissequot tribe to help produce the next generation.” He winked.

  She couldn’t help laughing. “That’s a weighty responsibility. Does it mean you have to marry another Nissequot?”

  “Nope.” His gaze grew more serious. “We made sure there were no requirements for any particular amount of Indian blood in tribal members. I hate the idea that people have to choose who they marry carefully or abandon their heritage.”

  “I’d imagine those kinds of rules are in place to keep the benefits—government funds, casino profits and that kind of thing—to a limited number of people.”

  “And what good does that do anyone? Except the people trying to keep us small in the hope that we’ll fade away eventually. I’d prefer to expand to include everyone. Growth and change are the core facts of life. If you try to keep something static, it will just die. I’m here to make sure the opposite happens.” He took her hand again, and she didn’t pull it back. He lifted it to his lips and kissed her palm, which sizzled with awareness under his lips.

  Why did she let him do that? He wasn’t serious about her. He was playing with her.

  Or was he?

  His dark eyes had narrowed and fixed on hers with an expression so intense that she couldn’t breathe. Heat radiated through her and her body inched closer to his without any effort on her part. She should be trying to back away, or standing up and walking back to the elevator. But her entire body seemed to be in thrall to his.

  His lips touched hers very softly, just brushing them. It wasn’t even a kiss. She closed her eyes as she drank in the subtle male scent of him. Her tongue itched to meet his, which it did as their mouths opened slightly and welcomed each other into a real kiss.

  Her fingers crept under the jacket of his suit and into the folds of his shirt. His large hands settled one on either side of her waist, gathering her to him. She was aware of the roughness of his chin as he shifted and deepened the kiss. She leaned into him, pulling at his shirt until her fingers slid underneath it and she touched the warm skin of his back.

  Heat unfurled in her core, spreading through her like smoke. John lifted her onto his lap, still kissing her, and she welcomed the closeness. Her nipples were so sensitive she could feel the fabric of his lapels even through her blouse and bra, and she pressed herself against him, unable to resist the pull of sensation.

  She had no idea how long they kissed. All she knew was that she didn’t want to stop. The pleasure of holding him, of touching him and kissing him, was so intense she couldn’t remember anything like it. When their lips finally separated slightly, she could barely pull herself together enough to open her eyes.

  “There’s something very powerful between us,” John murmured, his voice a rumble in her consciousness.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Words seemed too literal in the heady sensual atmosphere of the dark night. It was easier to say what she wanted with her body, with her mouth. She licked his lips gently, savoring the taste of him. When his hand moved higher, she guided it over her breast, enjoying the weight of his palm on her desire-thickened nipple.

  When he pulled back she uttered a groan of protest. She didn’t want him to stop.

  “Come with me.” He lifted her carefully to her feet, supporting her with his arm. She was so intoxicated with arousal that she could barely walk.

  “Where are we going?” It was hard forming words.

  “Somewhere more private.”

  “This is private.” No one was watching them. Only the twinkling gaze of a hundred million stars. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want anything to break the spell binding them together.

  “More comfortable, too.” He squeezed her. “Don’t worry. It’s close.” They walked slowly back to the elevator, with his arm around her waist. The effort of putting one foot in front of the other tugged her out of the sensual haze she’d slipped into. What was she doing? She’d kissed John again. Kissing him one time could be seen as an accident. Kissing him twice? That was deliberate.

  She wanted to kiss him again, too. What had come over her? She must be in the grip of some kind of madness. Still, she wasn’t going to pull away from the warm embrace of his arm. Instead she rested her hand on his, enjoying the closeness.

  At the elevator he pressed the button. “Are we going down to the lobby?”

  He looked rather disheveled from her running her hands all over him. She probably did, too. “No need to. The elevator also leads directly into my suite.”

  “Oh, good.” Her own words made her blink. She was glad about him taking her to his private apartment?

  Yes. She was. Which didn’t make any sense at all. She should insist on going straight to her car and back to her hotel for a cold shower.

  They stepped into the unpleasantly bright space of the elevator and she shielded her eyes from the shining mirrors by leaning against his chest as he p
ressed the button. His suite was on the highest floor, right beneath the roof terrace, so in a few seconds the doors opened and they stepped out, right into his suite.

  “Do strangers from the hotel ever press the wrong button and end up in your room?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “You have to enter a code to go to this floor or the terrace. Don’t worry. No one will disturb us.”

  They stepped out into his suite. A wide foyer led into a spacious living room with a wall of windows. Comfortable sofas faced what must have been an impressive view in daylight. Shelves held a collection of photographs and objects. She was curious about the things he had gathered in his home, but he led her past them and through another door into his bedroom. Decorated in a simple, masculine style, the room held nothing but a low platform bed and a dresser. Three wooden masks hung on the wall opposite. She stared at them for a moment. “Don’t you feel weird with these faces watching you?”

  He laughed. “They’re hundreds of years old. I’m sure they’ve seen it all before.”

  No doubt they’d seen a lot right here in John’s bedroom. She glanced warily at the bed. How many women had writhed in his arms there? Was she really going to be the next in a long procession of girls who succumbed to his seemingly irresistible charms? What was she doing? She knew she shouldn’t be here, but she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  John turned to her, slid his arms around her waist and held her close. He was several inches taller, so he had to incline his head to kiss her. Her mouth rose effortlessly to meet his and the kiss drew her back into that private realm where nothing else really mattered.

  Six

  John sensed her doubts even as he kissed her. Constance could hardly believe she was here in his bedroom. He could hardly believe it either. Still, his disbelief mingled with a sense of wonder as he held her close and kissed her with feeling.

  She didn’t have much experience. He could tell that by her sense of surprise and her awkward reaction to his simple advances. Somehow that only stoked his passion. This beautiful woman had been quietly living her life, free from desire and its complications, peering into corporate records and keeping her heart safe.