A hush fell over the bar at the same time as the skin on the back of his neck started to prickle. Then Ricardo let out a low whistle under his breath.
‘Mi, oh, mi....’
Slowly Cruz turned his head to find Aspen framed in the open double glass doorway of the bar like something out of a 1950s Hollywood extravaganza, the silky green gown he’d bought her flowing around her slender figure like coloured water. His mouth went dry. The halterneck dress was deceptively simple at the front but so beautifully crafted it lovingly moulded to her shape exactly as it was supposed to. She’d pinned her hair up in a soft, timeless bun—which must mean she had a fair amount of skin showing, as he was pretty sure the dress dipped quite low at the back.
Okay, make that completely backless, he corrected, fighting a primitive urge to bundle her up in his arms and return her to his room. His bed.
She hadn’t spotted him yet, and when a male voice called out her name Cruz watched her turn her head, the wispy tendrils of hair she had left to frame her face dancing golden beneath the halogen lighting. Her expression softened as she spied a few of his polo players lounging in the club chairs that circled a small wooden table.
She walked towards them and Cruz tried not to react, but it was impossible to stop his gut from tightening as the men watched her with unrestrained lust in their eyes.
She looked so delicate.
So sensual.
So his.
The need to stamp his ownership all over her took hold and he didn’t bother to contain it. For right now, for tonight, she was his—and he didn’t care who knew it. In fact, the more who did the better. It would save him from having to keep tabs on her during dinner, and the four European jocks already halfway to being tanked would, he knew, be the best candidates to spread the news.
As conversation once again resumed in the bar he ignored Ricardo’s keen gaze and went to her.
She had her back to him and he felt her jump as his thigh lightly grazed her hip. She looked up and he bent his head, let his eyes linger on her mouth, gratified by her quick intake of breath.
If it were possible, the more time he spent with her the more time he wanted to spend with her. It was a sobering thought, if he’d been in the mood to care.
He cupped Aspen’s elbow in his palm. ‘Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us?’
Slowly each man registered Cruz’s proprietorial manner, but only Tommy Hassenberger had the nerve to look disgruntled. ‘Looks like I’m too late,’ he complained.
‘You were too late when you were born, Tommy,’ one of his friends joked, making the others laugh.
Aspen grinned, said she’d catch up with them at the formal dinner, and then felt intoxicated as Cruz placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her from the room, the heat of his palm scorching her bare skin.
She hadn’t known what to expect when she had entered the bar but she had decided to try and relax. To try and forget about their deal and her fears and just brave it out. Cruz had invited her to dinner—a formal event, not a date—and for all she knew that was a peace offering as well.
‘You wore the dress,’ he said, his gravelly voice stroking her already heightened senses.
‘Yes. I couldn’t not in the end. Thank you.’
‘You look stunning in it.’
The look he gave her made her burn.
Aspen took in his superbly cut tuxedo. ‘You look—’ Simply divine. ‘Nice too,’ she croaked.
He gave her a small smile. ‘Aspen, I need to tell you something.’
Cruz gazed down at the utterly stunning woman at his side and a ball of emotion rushed through him. Seeing her like this...having her beside him...all the animosity of the past fell away and he just wanted to take her upstairs and make love to her with a need that floored him.
‘What is it?’
Aspen tilted her head and Cruz heard a roaring in his ears as their eyes connected. Reality seemed suspended and—
‘Señor Rodriguez, sir, the first lot of guests are assembled in the Rosa Room.’
Cruz turned towards his head waiter. ‘Thank you, Paco. I’ll be along in a minute.’
‘Certainly.’
The waiter inclined his head and left and Cruz lifted Aspen’s fingers to his lips. He could see her pulse racing and his did the same.
‘I wish I’d never planned this idiotic dinner.’
‘It’s not idiotic.’ She smiled up at him, her eyes almost on a level with his chin because she was wearing the stilettos. ‘It’s to welcome honoured guests to your flagship hotel for tomorrow’s tournament. It’s important.’