Page 12 of After-Party Consequences

‘IGUESSTHAT’Smy cue to leave,’ Charley murmured as the last of the red, white and blue fireworks died in the night sky.

‘So soon?’ Cade replied, his hand warm on her lower back as he pulled her against him to avoid the couples heading back into the garden.

‘It’s nearly midnight,’ she said, basking in the focussed gaze she had been basking in all evening...the jolt of awareness getting harder and harder to ignore.

Who knew? Cade Landry really was Sir Galahad.

He’d shepherded her around for over two hours, introducing her to female entrepreneurs and businesspeople—as well as a number of wives and girlfriends of the male business people he knew—whose contact details she now had safely secured in her phone. The boost to her business from this evening’s networking offensive would be invaluable, and Cade Landry had facilitated it. Even though she’d realised he wasn’t much of a social animal. He didn’t seem uncomfortable so much as aloof. And from the surprise on a lot of people’s faces—including their hosts when Charley had eventually thanked Cassandra in person—she’d gathered he rarely showed at events like this one.

But she had to admit it wasn’t her business initiatives she had been thinking of every time he rested his palm casually on her waist, or smiled that sensual smile full of masculine approval while telling people to check out her dress.

‘Which makes it approximately eight in the morning UK time,’ she finished, trying to focus on all the reasons why she needed to leave now.

She had a cheap motel booked near the marina which was calling her name. Even though she didn’t feel remotely tired, because the giddy excitement of being the sole focus of Cade Landry’s attention for the evening had become more than a little addictive.

But Cade hadn’t made a move, and she wasn’t entirely sure now if she had read his signals all wrong. Was he into her, or was he just being helpful to a fellow businessperson? Because apart from those small, incidental touches, he hadn’t made any significant attempts to come on to her since they’d danced their hearts out.

She’d assumed he wanted her...but what did she really know about reading signals? Given that she’d always been so awful at sex? And she hadn’t even had any since the first time she’d tried to kiss him...which had been a complete disaster.

‘I appreciate everything you’ve done for me this evening,’ she said, her excitement deflating. ‘I wouldn’t have had the guts to approach most of those people. It was very generous of you. You’re actually a nice guy, Sir Galahad,’ she teased, covering the flicker of inadequacy.

You don’t need his approval, Charley.

His lips twisted in a wry smile. ‘The one thing I’m not, Charlotte, is nice,’ he said. ‘But I made you a promise earlier in the evening, and I never break my word.’

‘Okay,’ she said, the tension almost as delicious as the sudden spurt of anticipation.

He ran his knuckle down the side of her face. The possessive touch had the endorphins she’d been keeping in check exploding through her system like the fireworks display they’d just witnessed.

‘I’d like you to come home with me tonight,’ he said, his gaze filling with the molten heat she’d noticed while they danced but had since assumed she must have imagined. The sensual smilemade her insides clench. ‘But if you’re too jet-lagged, or you’re just not that into me, I can escort you wherever you want to go.’

‘That’s...direct,’ she whispered, trying desperately not to throw herself at him—something she could acknowledge now she had wanted to do, ever since he had guided her so sensually through the dance. And she’d let him.

That she hadn’t read his intentions wrong was even more intoxicating. But something about the insistent pulsing in her sex felt too much like that out-of-control girl.

‘Direct is how I roll,’ he said. ‘When I want something.’ He hooked a tendril of hair behind her ear. The casual, oddly possessive gesture made the hunger flare and throb. ‘And tonight I want to taste every inch of you and make you moan.’ His voice dropped to a husky purr. ‘But you need to be sure that’s what you want, too.’

It was supposed to be a question. But it didn’t sound like one, because her body was already desperate for his touch and had been ever since she’d turned in the garden hours ago to find him watching her...maybe even before that. Maybe even dating right back to that reckless girl who had looked for approval in sex and never found it.

He was the only man who had ever said no to her, she realised—which made his desire for her now all the more exciting. And validating.

‘I want you, too’ she admitted, because she’d never been coy.

‘Thank God,’ he said, the scorching heat in his gaze making her realise it had cost him to hold back. ‘Then let’s get the hell out of here.’

But when he clasped her fingers and strode from the terrace, heading through the house towards the front lawn, the swirl of anticipation in her gut tangled with familiar insecurities.

As they arrived at the valet station and a shiny black SUV appeared, she tugged her hand free.

The sound of the band starting the late-night set floated over the night air but did nothing to calm Charley’s nerves. Her life had come full circle since their meeting in Vegas. But it had been years now—four years, to be precise—since she’d been intimate with anyone. And she’d never been any good at it.

‘If you’ve changed your mind, I can take you home,’ he said, more perceptive than she would have expected.

‘I haven’t changed my mind...’ she managed around the growing ball of embarrassment wedged in her throat. ‘I’m just...’

Good grief, how do you explain to a man who could probably make most women come at thirty paces that you have never had a satisfying sexual experience?

‘I’m just not very good at one-night stands...so if you’re expecting a sex goddess,’ she babbled, ‘you’re going to be disappointed.’

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