Page 57 of Worth the Risk

He dropped down next to me. Completely ignoring his drink, his gaze slid down my body with growing hunger.

‘Will you be visiting England any time soon?’ he asked abruptly.

The unexpected question threw me. There was something almost wrong with discussing my future plans with a man I’d probably never see again the moment he stepped off the yacht, never mind doing so while I was completely naked.

‘I’d planned to visit my mother and grandmother when the season was over.’

His forefinger drifted down my collarbone. ‘Where in England are they?’

I tried to read his face, but I saw nothing but steady interest. Well, that and the ever-present hunger that lurked in his eyes when he looked at me.

A girl could get hopelessly addicted to that full-on intensity.

Then it’s a good thing this thing is temporary.

I clenched my gut against the sharp arrow that lodged itself in my chest. ‘They live in the Lake District.’

He caught a strand of my hair and teased it through his fingers. ‘What about your father, Leonora? Any reason he’s not quite in the picture?’

I tensed, fiercely glad for the protection of the sunglasses. ‘He never wanted to be. But that didn’t stop him from selfishly dipping in and out of our lives when it suited him.’

His mouth twisted. ‘I’m not sure which is worse, a parent’s physical presence and emotional absence, or a deprivation of both,’ he mused bitterly.

I caught his hand, a strong urge to connect with him making me mesh my fingers with his. ‘In the long run, I preferred the latter because the former fed me with hope that was never fulfilled.’

He brought our joined fingers to his lips and kissed my knuckles. ‘Do you still see him?’

Pain spiralled through me. ‘Not if I can help it. Unfortunately my mother hasn’t abandoned the idea of using me as bait to hook an imagined relationship. We butt heads over the issue more often than I want.’

He remained silent for a long time before grey eyes met mine. ‘So this is yet another area where we’ve both been fucked over. Perhaps we should form a support group.’

The words were throwaway but his eyes held an intensity I desperately wanted to fixate on. ‘I prefer not to spend time raking over the past.’ Or rabidly dwelling on the many other ways I wished we were connected. ‘I’d rather help you celebrate your deal.’

‘I’m already celebrating. You’re my prize.’

‘I’m no one’s trophy, Gideon.’ That smacked too much of what I’d seen my father do to my mother. When the whim took him, he’d arrive in a blaze of glory, take her down from the shelf he’d placed her on. Play with her until he grew bored. Then he’d toss her back until the next time.

Gideon’s face slowly straightened, his eyes darkening. ‘Too bloody right, you’re not. You’re so much more.’ Again that peculiar note throbbed in his voice.

Before I could decipher it, he caught a thicker strand of my hair, wrapped it around his hand and pulled me close. He reached into the ice bucket and plucked out an ice cube.

Wild tingles raced through my body. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Open up,’ he said.

He placed the ice on my tongue, then he took my glass, held it to my lips. He allowed me a small sip before setting the glass down on the tray.

When he brought his fingers to my lips again, I shook my head. ‘It’s mine now.’

His breathing altered a little. ‘What are you going to do with it?’

I let my gaze drift down to his cock, and then up his body. ‘Have you ever been fucked with ice, Gideon?’

Fervent excitement leapt in his eyes. ‘Are you offering to blow my mind, Leonora?’ he asked hoarsely.

‘Lie down and let’s find out,’ I instructed.

He complied with a feline unfurling of his body.

---