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“You wish.” But she tingled at the thought. He was right about sexual excitement hovering under the surface. Her skin prickled to sharp life, making her feel sensual and deeply aware of all her erogenous zones.

“Satisfy my curiosity,” he said in a low voice. “Are your nipples still hard?”

“It’s dark, I can’t see.”

“Feel them.”

She closed her eyes, tempted, but, “Ryzard, I meant it when I said we should leave it at tonight.”

Silence.

Had he hung up on her?

“Are you still there?” she asked, hearing a forlorn note in her voice.

“At least tell me why you’re cutting me off.” Underlying the brisk frustration in his tone was an edge of something she’d heard this evening when he’d said, It shows I belong. She’d hurt him.

Through an aching throat, she managed to blurt out the worst cliché around. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m the biggest head case going.”

“You’re concerned that I will be repulsed by these scars of yours.”

“Yes,” she admitted, breathing a little easier at his understanding.

“Why would that bother you if I was?”

“I— What?” Her whole body tensed. Did she disgust him?

“Why would you care about my opinion? Who am I to you? Just some stranger you slept with on a wild night, right?”

So many protests choked her, she couldn’t speak. He wasn’t just anyone, not after some of the conversations they’d had and the physical intimacies they’d shared, but she couldn’t admit that to him. He was already way too close to sensing he meant more to her than their brief association should warrant. His opinion mattered a lot.

“You’re expecting me to get naked, be as exposed as I possibly could be, and risk being rejected,” she said in a strained voice. “Wouldn’t that bother you?”

“It bothered the hell out of me when you walked out tonight. I was as naked as a man needs to be the first night.” His anger blistered off the receiver, making her squinch her face in a cringe. “You’ve done it to me twice.”

“I’m sorry.” The words burned from all the way in the pit of her sick stomach. “I didn’t look at it from your perspective. I wasn’t rejecting you.”

“You need to start looking beyond yourself, Tiffany.”

“I just apologized. That doesn’t happen often. I suggest you accept it.”

He sighed with frustration, then said with austerity, “You have been dealt a cruel blow from life. I won’t dismiss that. But it didn’t kill you, so start learning to live with it.”

Wow. He didn’t pull any punches, did he?

“How?” she demanded in a burst of angry despair. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know, but how do I just get over it?”

“You want to be with a man, Tiffany. You like it when I touch you. Be with me.”

He did make her feel more confident, but it would take about a hundred of these heart-to-hearts before she’d be able to face being naked in front of him.

“We could meet for breakfast,” she offered. The inside of her cheek stung and she realized she was biting it, feeling very insecure at putting herself out even this much.

“Where?” he asked.

“I assume they have a buffet or a restaurant downstairs.”

“I meant your place or mine, but I see. Yes, they have a breakfast room. Nine?”

He wasn’t making any effort to hide his disappointment, but she only confirmed, “Downstairs at nine. It’s a date.”

Ending the call, she rolled onto her back and stared at the dark ceiling. What was she doing? There was even less point in seeing him at breakfast on their last morning. They’d never see each other again after that.

Still, just thinking about seeing him made her body feel ripe and wanton. Running her hands over the hard swells of her breasts with their taut tips poking sharply against her rippling fingertips, she tried to erase the sensations nagging at her. The hunger deepened, provoking memories of Ryzard leaning on the wall, disheveled pants barely containing flesh she had memorized with her mouth, his eyes heavy lidded and voracious.

Rolling a frustrated moan into her pillow, she wished she’d said yes to the phone sex.

* * *

When she arrived in the dining room, Ryzard was standing in the entrance talking to another woman.

It was a low blow and nearly made her turn in retreat, but he lifted his hawkish mask and held out a hand to her even before he locked his gaze on her.

Stupid watches. Hers was shivering at its nearness to his, just like her to him. As she walked across, she experienced a little thrill at how good he looked in simple black pants and a white shirt open at the throat. His hair, clipped so short you could barely tell it curled, was still damp.

A dip of insecurity accosted her at the same time. The woman gesturing so passionately in front of him wore a light cover-up over a bikini that barely contained her flawless figure. Her mask was equally spare, just a sleek line from temple to temple.

Tiffany felt overdressed in her pants suit and elaborate mask as well as intrusive as she arrived, causing the woman to break midsentence.

Ryzard grasped her hand in a firm, warm grip, drawing her a step closer while continuing to give his attention to the other woman. “Please continue.”

“I—” She was obviously disconcerted by Tiffany’s arrival. Her body language changed from enticing to standoffish. “I just wonder if the sudden rumors being spread about this weekend, talk of dirty deals and Greek Mafia connections, could be true. Zeus’s reputation is important for all of us, and if he’s no better than a crook we should talk about it. Figure out what to do.”

Tiffany was a little lost, coming in late and distracted by the strength and heat of her lover. He smelled freshly showered, and his flimsy white shirt was hardly any barrier, allowing her to nearly taste the texture of his skin.

Still, being excluded niggled at her. She’d been The Family Behind Him too many times for her father, a required face in a photo, but heaven forbid she open her mouth. Being relegated to arm candy here, where she was supposed to be an equal, was the final straw.

“Who is Zeus?” Tiffany asked.

“No one knows,” the woman said, dismissing her with a patronizing jerk of her shoulder, adding, “Which is part of the problem. He should identify himself so we can decide if we want to continue associating with him.”

Tiffany followed the entreating glance the woman sent to Ryzard. She was obviously trying to pull him over to her side for reasons other than any real concern about the club.

“That seems hypocritical, doesn’t it?” Ryzard said calmly. “When we keep our own identities secret?”

“I have to agree. It’s quite possible to have a wrong impression about someone until you know them better,” Tiffany said with a significant look upward to Ryzard.

“Well, we don’t keep any secrets from Zeus, do we?” the woman insisted. She wavered with indecision a moment as her gaze touched on his hand holding Tiffany’s so possessively. Then she made a noise of impatience and muttered, “I’m just saying,” before she walked away.

Tiffany raised her brows, not that Ryzard could see them and appreciate her pique at coming upon a woman hitting on him so blatantly.

“Good morning,” he said before swooping to kiss her.

She stiffened, but he took his time, working swirls of reawakened passion down through her torso and into her belly until she softened into his loose embrace. When he lifted his head, he said, “I’m starving. You?”

Food was the last thing on her mind, but she followed him through the indoor/outdoor dining room to a table near the lagoon-shaped pool. They accepted coffee and placed their orders before she lost her ability to stay silent and asked, “Do you pick up women at all these things?”

Setting down his coffee, he regarded her with a hard look. “Your pretty blue eyes have gone quite emerald, draga.”

“Who is she?”

“That’s a question I can’t answer. Members do not out other members. That’s why I didn’t introduce you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If I had looked at my watch, would I have seen her nickname?”

He shrugged. “Possibly. Mine is turned off except for you. She only spoke to me because we happened to meet at the door and have spoken before.”

“About?” she prompted.

“It’s confidential.”

“Have you seen her away from these things?”

“Also confidential.”

“So you won’t tell me anything.”

“This is how the club works. That’s why it works. But I will tell you that I have never had a sexual relationship with her.”

“And she would never admit to one if you had because members don’t out other members. I’m just supposed to trust that you’re telling me the truth.”


Tags: Dani Collins Billionaire Romance