Playboy's Lesson (6 page)

She held his gaze with a spark of challenge in hers. ‘Why don’t you try it and find out?’

His eyes went to her mouth and then back to her eyes. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Will I or won’t I?
he seemed to be asking himself. ‘Are you flirting with me, little princess?’

‘Of course not!’

He smiled again, a smug, self-congratulatory smile, as he flicked her cheek with an idle finger. ‘You want me
so
bad.’

Lottie jerked back with a roll of her eyes, which she hoped would in some way cancel out her betraying blush but she wasn’t putting any money on it. ‘Tell me something...does your ego have its own zip code?’

He laughed as he fell into step beside her. ‘Cute.’ His shoulder brushed against hers as they went through one of the rose-covered archways and a shower of shell-pink petals fell around them like confetti. ‘So...tell me why this wedding is so important to you.’

She gave him a sideways glance. ‘It’s my sister’s wedding. Why wouldn’t it be important to me?’

‘Fair point.’

They walked a little farther in silence.

‘I want it to be just as Madeleine wants,’ Lottie said. ‘I want everything to be perfect for her.’

‘Seems to me everything already
is
perfect for her.’

She glanced at him again but his expression was unreadable. ‘Yes, well, some people are lucky in life and in love.’

‘And you?’ He’d stopped walking and looked down at her. ‘Have you been lucky?’

‘I could hardly complain given all this.’ She waved a hand to encompass the palace and its surrounds. ‘I never have to worry about having enough money for food or rent. I don’t even have to wash my own clothes or cook my own meals.’

‘What about love?’

She gave him an ironic glance before she resumed walking. ‘That’s a funny question from you.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘You’re a notorious playboy.’

‘So?’

She stopped and looked up at him again. ‘Are you saying you’ve been in love?’

‘No.’

‘Are you saying there is a possibility you
might
fall in love one day?’

‘No.’

Lottie tilted her head at him quizzically. ‘What, are you really saying you have no capacity at all to fall in love? None at all?’

‘I thought we were talking about you?’

‘I’d like to unpick this a little further first.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘What is it about loving someone that is so terribly threatening to you?’

His dark brown eyes locked her out as surely as a shutter coming down. ‘I didn’t say it was threatening. I just don’t think it’s likely.’

‘But why?’

‘I’m not wired that way.’

‘You’re human, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘We’re all wired that way.’

‘So when was the last time you were in love?’

Lottie had to give him points for outmanoeuvring her. She considered not answering but figured he would press her until she did. It was easier to be truthful and get it over with. She dropped her hands from her hips. ‘When I was eighteen. But don’t they say the first fall is the hardest?’

He shrugged noncommittally. ‘Maybe.’

‘I don’t think I was really in love.’ She fell into step beside him again. ‘I thought I was at the time. I’d had a lot of boys interested in me but I chose the one I thought was the most genuine. In hindsight I could have chosen a little better. But that’s teenage hormones for you.’

‘It ended badly?’

‘Don’t all break-ups?’

He gave her another quick inscrutable glance. ‘It depends.’

‘How do you do it? How do you move from one relationship to the next without amassing collateral damage?’

A corner of his mouth lifted wryly as if he found the thought of it so remote it was amusing. ‘I don’t believe in hurting people unnecessarily. I think it’s important to be honest from the get-go. I’m always straight about what I can and can’t give. That way no one gets their expectations up. No promises are made so none are broken. No rings, no strings is my motto. I don’t even hand out jewellery as a consolation prize. Waste of money.’

‘I suppose that limitless charm you’re so renowned for comes in rather handy when you’re wriggling your way out of a tricky hook-up.’

He gave her a sardonic look. ‘I thought you didn’t read unedifying gossip?’

Lottie looked away from that devilish glint. ‘Don’t bother trying your charm with me because it won’t work. I’m immune.’

She felt his gaze rest on her thoughtfully. She had a feeling that in spite of his layabout ne’er-do-well personality he projected, there was very little that escaped those intelligent dark brown eyes. ‘How long since you had a lover?’ he asked.

She turned swiftly to continue walking along the pathway. ‘I’m not going to answer that.’

‘You just did.’

Lottie tried to ignore him walking beside her but her body wouldn’t allow it. Her arm tingled every time his shirtsleeve brushed against her and her heart would go off on another excited gallop. His tall warm presence so close to her made her aware of her body in a way she had never been before. She was livid with herself for being so easily unravelled by the first man who had showed an interest in her in years.

Gullible fool!

She had always prided herself on her cool inner reserve. She wasn’t called the Ice Princess for nothing. She had taught herself not to wear her emotions on the surface, to let no one see what she was feeling, even though at times it made her appear much more formidable and starchy than she really was.

But something about this incorrigible rake made every nerve in her body come vibrantly alive. Every feeling she had locked so tightly away kept tapping on the door of its prison to be released.

Desire—a thing she had forgotten she even had the capacity to feel—was elbowing the other emotions out of the way, hammering with both fists, a hammering so hard it reverberated through her body, echoing the loudest in the secret cave of her femininity. She could feel it now—the slow ache of need beating with a primal pulse she could not ignore even if she tried.

She sent him a haughty look that belied the sensual tumult that was going on in her body. ‘I don’t mind you calling me Lottie in private but please desist in calling me those ridiculous endearments. I have no time for such falsity.’

He threw his head back and laughed his deep melodious laugh. ‘You are
such
a cutie pie. I feel like I’ve time travelled or something. It’s like spending time with a character out of a Jane Austen novel. Did you go to Prim and Proper School or something to learn to talk like that?’

She gave him a gimlet glare. ‘Must you be so...so
annoying
?’

‘All part of the service, milady.’ He swept her a Regency bow before returning his glinting gaze to hers.

Lottie felt a reluctant smile twitch at her mouth. ‘You are quite possibly the most immature and shallowest man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. Do you take
anything
in life seriously?’

He leapt up and gave a victory punch to the air. ‘Yes! I did it! I made the prickly little princess smile.’ He turned towards the palace, cupping his hands around his mouth as if to make an important announcement. ‘Hey, everybody—’

‘Stop it!’ Lottie grabbed at his wrists but somehow he ended up wrapping his fingers around hers. She glanced down at the dark tan of his fingers overlapping one another around her wrists and her insides shifted like books being toppled off a shelf. Heat seared through every layer of her skin like a red-hot brand, igniting those glowing embers deep in her core.

His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly, as if he was countering any attempt on her part to escape the gentle handcuffing of his fingers. She drew in a scratchy breath as he closed the gap between their bodies without even seeming to take a step.

His eyes were heavily lidded, sleepy and unbelievably sexy. Bedroom eyes. I-want-to-have-sex-with-you eyes. His mouth came down and, with a whisper-soft press, briefly touched hers. It left her lips aching and tingling for more but he didn’t prolong the contact.

He pulled back and smiled down at her, his eyes dancing with devilry. ‘If I let go of your hands, are you going to slap me?’

Her chin went up again. ‘Why don’t you try it and see?’

His gaze went back to her mouth. ‘If I’m going to get slapped, then I might as well make sure it’s worth it, don’t you think?’

If he wanted an answer he didn’t give her time to give one. Instead he swooped down and covered her mouth in a kiss that tasted of hot-blooded man and primal want with a generous garnish of ruthlessness.

The brazen thrust of his tongue as he entered her mouth made her heart rate skyrocket. But while that first thrust had been bold, he followed it up with cajoling sweeps and subtle dives that made her skin tighten and then pull away from her bones as it rose up in goose bumps.

He explored her mouth as if it were a dish he had never tried before and wanted to savour every moment of the experience. He took a gentle nip of her lower lip, pulling at it with his teeth in a playful tug that melted her resolve like a knob of butter on a barbecue. He stroked his tongue over her top lip, intricately tracing its curve, before entering her mouth again with a spine-tingling stab of purely sexual intent.

Her body was pressed so firmly against his she could feel every powerful throb of his erection against her belly. It seemed to resonate in perfect time with that pulsing ache in her womb. Her senses weren’t just reeling; they were spinning out of control. Desire was a blazing fire inside her flesh, racing through the network of her veins, firing up every nerve and cell with combustible force. Her breasts felt acutely sensitive where they were crushed against the hard wall of his chest, her nipples tightly budded in response to her arousal. Her inner core was already damp and humid with want. She could feel the warm satin silkiness of it when she moved her body against the deliciously tempting friction of his.

His hands left her wrists and splayed through her hair, which somehow was now tousled about her shoulders instead of restrained behind her head. He captured a thick handful of it as he deepened the kiss. There was something almost primitive about his hold, like an alpha male ruthlessly taking control of the mate he had selected for his pleasure. It unleashed something equally primal in her. She nipped at his lower lip with kittenish bites, sweeping her tongue over it each time she released it.

He groaned deep in his throat and his hand tightened in her hair almost to the point of pain. He took control of her mouth by covering it again with his, crushing her lips beneath the hot firm pressure of his. His tongue mated with hers in a sexy coupling that made her stomach drop like a desk drawer pulled out too quickly.

Her hands were around his neck, her fingers delving into the thick pelt of his hair, her mouth held captive by the mesmerising magic of his.
I want this. I want you. I want to be wanted.
It was like a silent mantra inside her head in perfect time with every thudding heartbeat that was sending her blood through her veins at a dizzying speed.

He suddenly pulled back and glinted at her with those sinfully dark eyes. ‘Let’s find a room. Your palace or mine?’

Lottie was jolted out of the sensual spell he had woven around her like a fist thrusting through a cobweb.
What was she doing?
Where was her poise and self-control? One kiss and she was his for the asking?

Not going to happen
.

Did he really think she was going to dive headfirst into his bed just like every other woman he made a play for, only to have him dismiss her like a toy that no longer held its initial appeal? He looked so assured, so supremely confident. Arrogant. She would be just another notch on his bedpost; no doubt her royal status would be of particular appeal to such a shallow celebrity trophy hunter. She had learned that lesson before—the hard way.

She wasn’t naive enough to fall for it again.

Not any more.

But rather than give him the satisfaction to know he had got so far under her skin she decided to go along with it...to a point. It would be fun to have the last laugh, to score a few points against him.

Lottie put on a worldly look, even managing a coquettish smile. ‘Your place. Shall we say in half an hour?’

‘Make it an hour.’ His dark eyes glinted again. ‘I want to slip into something more comfortable.’

CHAPTER FOUR

LOTTIE WAS CONGRATULATING herself as she walked on the main beach an hour later. She could picture Lucca Chatsfield in his penthouse with a bottle of the finest French champagne in an ice bucket, the sheets on his king-size bed laid back in preparation, maybe even some rose petals scattered there. Some in-house scented candles burning on the bedside table with their scent of bergamot and sandalwood. His lean and toned body draped in a Chatsfield blue silk bathrobe with its gold embroidered
C
on the right breast, while he waited for her to knock on the door to attend one of his legendary scenes of seduction.

She smiled as she thought of the minutes and then the hours ticking by. His frustration building, his sense of humour souring.

One up to you, my girl
.