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Maid of Dishonour
He’d dated a lot of women since popping his cherry with Gina Carrington, and divorcing his wife, most of them a lot more conventionally beautiful—but not one of them oozed pure, unadulterated sex the way Gina did. Or sent a right hook to his senses with a single whiff of their spicy, sultry scent.
He shook off the thought as she perched on a bar stool.
Get your mind out of your pants.
Boy, did he need ten hours straight—he really had to be losing it if he was fantasising about the woman who had once blown his life to smithereens.
Not that he blamed her for that. He’d been like a firecracker, waiting to explode. All she’d done was light the fuse.
He caught the barman’s attention. ‘What’ll it be?’ he asked Gina.
‘Club soda.’
‘Make mine a Sam Adams,’ he added, propping himself on the stool beside her.
He watched her throat bob as she swallowed heavily—and felt the surge of satisfaction. She seemed a little jumpy—and she’d definitely been planning to run out on him. Which gave him the upper hand. He made a habit now of never being at a disadvantage with women—and that went double for this woman, because she’d once had him at the biggest disadvantage of all.
But there had been a whole lot of water under the bridge, not to mention ladies in his bed, since that night. And he wasn’t that lust-driven sex-deprived delusional kid any more. His pulse spiked as she pursed her full lips around the straw in her club soda and sucked.
He took a sip of the yeasty micro-beer.
Relax.
So what if he had some lingering lust issues where Gina Carrington was concerned? He had the control not to act on them now. Or at least not straight away. Not until he knew the score. His gaze skimmed over the silky dress and noticed how her magnificent rack rose and fell in staggered rhythm against the snug bodice.
Yeah, definitely edgy. A gratifying change from their first meeting, when she’d had all the moves and he’d been the one playing catch-up.
He took a long draft of his beer and waited for her to speak. She’d been the one to contact him, after all.
She glugged down a good portion of the soda, getting more jumpy by the second, but didn’t elaborate, so he decided to push it. Her note hadn’t exactly given much away. ‘So I hear you’ve got your own business—website development and social-media strategy, right?’
Her eyes darted to his, the wary look gratifying. ‘How do you know that?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve been thinking of investing in a social-media strategist for the mill. Your name came up in the research we did.’
And after the shock of seeing her name on the report, he’d looked her up on the Internet and discovered she was now living in the U.S. Not that he planned to tell her that.
Once he and Missy had called it quits, he’d been able to let go of the guilt over his night with Gina, and how much it had snuck into his dreams during the years of his marriage.
Given his current reaction to Gina, it was clear guilt wasn’t the problem any more.
‘Nice site, by the way,’ he added. ‘Clean and clear, and you’ve got some great testimonials there.’
‘Thank you.’ She watched him intently and he noticed the beguiling flecks of gold in the green of her irises.
‘Is that why you contacted me?’ He pushed some more.
Her eyebrows launched up her forehead. ‘God, no! I’m not that desperate for new business.’
He grinned at her outraged denial, surprised to realise he was glad she hadn’t gotten in touch just to tout for business. She took another long sip of the soda, but didn’t say anything else. ‘Then you’re gonna have to give me a hint—because your message was kind of cryptic.’
She let out a puff of breath. ‘Right.’ She faced him, her long legs crossed at the knees and her short dress riding up to display a distracting amount of toned, lightly tanned thigh.
‘I was having coffee with Marnie this morning and saw your text message,’ she began. ‘When I discovered you were going to be in town for the week, I decided to take the opportunity to...’ She hesitated. ‘To come here and apologise for what I did to you ten years ago.’ The last bit came out in a rush as if she’d had to push the words out.
The heat kicked harder in his gut. She looked totally sincere. Was she actually serious? And what the hell had brought this on, ten years after the event?
‘You’re gonna have to be a lot more specific,’ he said, exhilarated when her eyes flashed with annoyance. It felt good to have this particular woman at this much of a disadvantage. ‘Because as I recall we did a lot of things that night.’
* * *
Gina’s temper simmered at the wry comment. Was he making fun of her? And if so why? The failure of his marriage was hardly a joking matter, surely?
‘I’m apologising for all of it,’ she said, more sharply than she had intended when his lips twisted with amusement. ‘For seducing you, and taking your virginity and ruining your marriage.’
The glass he’d been lifting to his lips hit the bar with a snap as his brows shot towards his hairline. ‘You have got to be kidding me?’ A choked chuckle burst out.
‘Actually I’m not.’ The retort did nothing to cut through the rumble of incredulous laughter. ‘I’m sincerely sorry for what I did to you.’
Heat spread across her chest as he continued to chuckle.
She lifted her purse off the bar, slid off her stool, the sincerity of her apology drowning in a puddle of humiliation. She’d made a twit of herself; time to make a dignified exit. ‘I should go. Thanks for the drink, Carter.’
But as she went to walk past him strong fingers snagged her wrist. ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’
‘I’m leaving. Obviously this was a mistake.’ She twisted her arm; his fingers tightened.
‘Not a chance, sugar.’ The casual endearment became shoo-gah in his low Southern drawl—and sounded so ridiculously sensuous she lost the will to resist for a moment.
He took the opportunity to place both palms on her waist and drew her towards him. She tensed, her will returning in a rush when she found herself positioned between his spread thighs. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Settle down, Gina. You wanted to talk, now it’s my turn.’
She lifted her arms, in an attempt to step free without making too much of a scene, but his grip remained firm, anchoring her to the spot.
‘Relax,’ he said, still sounding amused. ‘You’re not going anywhere until I get to say what I wanna say.’
‘Fine.’ She folded her arms across her chest, disturbed by the long slow pull of arousal as his large hands drifted down to bracket her hips. ‘You have my undivided attention. But I’m not sure what else there is to say.’
‘That’s because you’ve had your say.’ He had the cheek to chuckle again. ‘Now you get to listen.’
‘Okay then, speak,’ she snapped. They did not need to be standing this close, but short of putting on a show for the rest of the bar’s inhabitants, who were already taking more of an interest in their conversation than she would have liked, she didn’t appear to have much of a choice.
‘I can see you’re as quick-tempered as you ever were.’
She sent him a bland look. ‘Is that what you wanted to say?’
He barked out another laugh. ‘Point taken. I’ll get on with it. I sure wouldn’t want to bore you.’
One muscled thigh touched her hip and she shifted away from it, only to get trapped against the other one. Bored wasn’t the word that was first and foremost in her mind at the minute.
‘First off, you can shove your apology in one of those sweet places where the sun doesn’t shine.’
She sucked in a breath, shocked by his crudity. ‘That’s nice, I must—’
‘Hush, I’m still talking here.’
She shut her mouth.
Well, really. What had happened to those genteel manners?
‘Second of all. You might have been my first, but I wasn’t that much of a sap. You didn’t take me, I took you.’
Heat cascaded through her at the seductive growl, which made her even more aware of the muscled thigh pressing against her hip.
‘And thirdly, I screwed up my marriage all on my own, with no help from you.’
‘I fail to see how you can say that, when I seduced you two weeks before your wedding day,’ she argued, getting a little miffed at the lecturing tone. Where did he get off talking to her as if she were a two-year-old? ‘I knew you were engaged and yet I set out to seduce you, deliberately, without a thought to your fiancée or anything else.’
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