* * *
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Alexei stalked away from the guest wing to the master suite.
What had got into him? Half an hour with Carissa Carter and he’d veered between anger, attraction, approval and amusement. And far too much of all of them. He always controlled his emotions; he wasn’t undercut by them.
He hadn’t expected to be impressed by Carter’s precious princess. He’d been ready to write her off as a pampered bimbo who viewed the world through the prism of her greed for an easy life. Instead he’d discovered someone witty, incisive, challenging and sexy. Ridiculously sexy, given her defiantly unfeminine clothes.
On Carissa Carter even a baggy T-shirt and leggings made his hormones surge. And that mouth. She was sharp-tongued in a superior way that made him want to take her mouth and discover what sweetness lay beneath its cutting edge.
There was definitely sweetness. He’d been surprised, when he held her, at the fretful way her pulse raced. He’d been mesmerised by her contrary reactions as she pretended not to respond. Her breathing had quickened, her pupils dilated, and he’d read confusion beneath her scorn and defiance. Even her awe as she admired the sculpture in the sitting room had charmed him.
He’d lit from within at the feel of her, supple, streamlined and, he discovered, curved in the right places.
What would happen if he followed her down onto that bed? He couldn’t remember the dark frenzy of desire ever being so immediate or urgent.
The very fact he’d thought about it was a concern. Did he really want an affair with Carter’s daughter?
Logic demanded an unequivocalno. Instinct screamedyes.
Which was an excellent reason to pull back. Apart from the fact he didn’t take advantage of vulnerable women.
Alexei rubbed a hand across his jaw as he entered his suite and crossed to the window to stand staring across the infinity pool to the sea beyond.
Guilt trickled down his spine. Bad enough that there’d been a kernel of truth in Carissa’s accusation about how he’d got her here. It had solidified into a jagged shard of ice when he’d heard the hint of a wobble in her voice as she stared up at him from her bed. She’d been flushed and furious and he’d revelled in his power to rile her, till he’d heard the tiny crack in her façade of superiority. Suddenly it hadn’t seemed amusing.
It hit him that he’d behaved like a kid pulling a girl’s pigtails, desperate to get her attention any way he could.
Him, desperate?
Hardly. Certainly not for the likes of Carissa Carter.
Except she wasn’t as he’d expected.
He scraped his hand across his chin, feeling the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. He shouldn’t allow himself to be diverted by her. She was incidental to his plans.
But, pending Carter’s arrival, there wasn’t much he could do to bring those plans to fruition. Steps had been taken to contain the damage, and while Alexei checked in daily, working via computer and phone, his team was working hard.
Which gave him leisure to ponder his would-be bride.
Alexei’s brow scrunched. Funny. He’d assumed Carissa would be eager to marry. Her father had come up with the idea, no doubt desperate to cement personal ties that would save him when his embezzlement came to light. The fact a woman in her mid-twenties was willing to go along with such a plan pointed to her being venal, marrying for money and position.
Too many women had tried to tie him down. Not for love, but as their ticket to wealth and privilege. Alexei didn’t fool himself into believing they were attracted by his character or sense of humour. Some were drawn by his looks but money was the deciding factor.
Yet Carissa hadn’t given an unequivocal yes.
Why? Did she believe if he had to work for what he wanted, he’d appreciate her more? Because men enjoyed the chase?
He huffed a breath. Maybe she had something there. If she’d walked in the door and promptly agreed with everything his interest wouldn’t have been piqued.
Except by that delectable body, which he’d discovered was curvier than he’d first thought.
Except for her intelligence and sensitivity.
Alexei shoved his fists in his pockets and rocked back on his feet, annoyed. He’d been so caught up in the need to draw Carter out of hiding, he hadn’t bothered researching the man’s daughter.
He’d acted rashly, driven by fury that the one person he’d trusted since his mother died had betrayed him.