'I am in the field,' Dex murmured, swinging her around in his arms and holding her close against his large body. 'Play with me,' he drawled huskily, his grey eyes narrowed intently on her face.
Beth swallowed hard. There was no mistaking the flare of desire in the depths of his eyes as one large hand slid down her back and pressed her hard against his muscular thighs.
Beth glanced wildly around. She tried to ease away, but it wasn't that simple. The small restaurant entrance was a mass of bodies, from ghosts to devils, druids— and drunks, by the look of it, as one particularly plump man, in what looked like a nightshirt, fell against her.
'Come on.' Dex's hand dropped from her waist and, curving a protective arm around her slender shoulders, hauling her hard into his side, he guided her through the crush of people into the large dining room where there was a lot more space.
Intensely aware of his thigh brushing against her hip, and his hand on her shoulder, it took all Beth's willpower to repress the shiver his touch ignited.
'I'm all right now,' she said curtly, slipping out from under his arm and glancing around.
Beth's green eyes widened incredulously at the scene before her. On a platform at one end of the room, a disc jockey dressed in a red Spandex suit, a cape and horns— the devil incarnate!—was doing his stuff. The music was loud, and multi-coloured flashing strobe lights cast weird and wonderful shadows over the centre of the room, where a couple of dozen people dressed as demons, witches and warlocks, and some very scantily clad women, gyrated in time to the beat. . . Around the sides, people lounged at tables, drinking and laughing. It reminded her of an oil painting she had seen in the Tate Gallery by a seventeenth-century Italian master, depicting hell.
The irony of it did not escape her. Hell was exactly how she felt. Acutely conscious of Dex's brooding presence beside her, she glanced up at him and had the terrible conviction that unless she escaped from this party pretty, damn quick, hell was where she was destined to stay!
'Your stepbrother certainly has some interesting friends,' Dex commented, one dark brow arching sardonically as he looked around the room.
Beth followed his superior gaze to where it rested on a particularly voluptuous woman, who appeared to be wearing three fig leaves and nothing else. What the brief costume had to do with Hallowe'en, Beth could not imagine. But, glancing back at Dex, she let her lips twist in a cynical smile. Obviously the girl in question knew why. Dex was drooling. How typical, Beth thought bitterly, and took the chance to edge away from him.
Catching sight of Mike and Elizabeth, she made her way towards them. Suddenly a sharp tug on the tail of her costume had her falling back against a rock-hard body. Fighting to retain her balance, she squirmed around and found herself staring at Dex's shirt-front. She put her hands flat against his broad chest and tried to push him away.
'Will you let go of my tail?' she snapped. Why, oh, why had she let herself be talked into wearing this ridiculous costume?
'But you have such a nice tail, Beth.' Her furious green eyes clashed with his and she saw the devilment lurking in their silver depths. She felt his hand twisting the offending appendage around his wrist until his palm settled firmly over her bottom, and she knew damn well it was not the tail of her costume he was talking about.
'In fact, I love your costume. Cats are my favourite animal.' His other hand stroked slowly, very deliberately, down her spine, making her shudder. 'It is purrfect for you,' he teased huskily. Well aware of her involuntary reaction to his blatant caress, tossing back his head, he laughed out loud at the expression of frustrated fury twisting her delicate features.
His laughter, the flash of his brilliant white teeth, was too much for Beth.
'Add a pair of white fangs to your big mouth, and, hey presto! The perfect Count Dracula!' she spat back.
He pulled her closer, one hand easing up her back to clasp the back of her head, untangling the tail of her costume and settling his other arm more firmly around her, if such a thing was possible.
'Count Dracula. I like that, Beth.' His hand slid to the nape of her neck and she felt the pressure of his long fingers on her throat.
'Especially if you let me kiss your neck,' he declared outrageously, his eyes glittering with wickedly sensual intent on her flushed face.
The pulse in her neck leapt beneath his fingers; her body flooded with heat. She swallowed hard, the erotic image he had created swamping her mind. Her hands on his chest, supposedly to push him away, lingered against the soft silk of his shirt. She felt his hard thighs stirring against her, and was made shockingly aware of the man in the most primitive way possible. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out as his dark head bent and his mouth bit gently, then sucked, on the only bit of flesh exposed by her all-encompassing costume: her throat.
She went weak at the knees, a low moan escaping through her parted lips. Dex moved slightly, his long legs splayed, and he pulled her close between his thighs.
His hands tightened on her buttocks and back. What would have happened next? Beth did not dare contemplate it as Mike saved her from making a complete fool of herself.
'You two dancing, or what?' His cheerful voice echoed on the fringes of Beth's mind.
Dex lifted his dark head and grinned at Mike. 'Dancing—now—thanks to you.' Swirling Beth around, he deftly manoeuvred her into the crowd of dancers.
Mortified, her face burning, Beth stiffened in his arms, wishing with all her heart she was anywhere else but here. Not strictly true, a little voice echoed in her head. Being held close to Dex, his male warmth enfolding her, was as near to heaven as a woman could get.
Fool, she told herself. Dex didn't really want her. He had taken her out in the first place to keep her away from Paul Morris, the man his sister wanted. He had taken her to bed to prove he couid, and she, weak-willed wimp that she was, had let him. How cold-blooded could a man get?
She sighed; the pressure of his hand on her back and the subtle movement of his body against hers was anything but cold, in fact it was the reverse. She frowned in concentration, worried that if she relaxed for a second she would find herself caving into him. She silently cursed her stupid costume yet again. A fine layer of stretch jersey was no protection against the powerful appeal of Dex's muscle-packed body. Her breasts hardened, the nipples rigid against the fine jersey. She didn't know whether to press herself against him to disguise her arousal or pull away from him and take the risk of revealing her vulnerable state.
'Don't worry, Beth. It will put premature lines on your beautiful face.'
His warm breath caressed her brow, and at the softly drawled words her head jerked back in surprise. The damn man could read her mind.
'So what? You won't be around to see them,' she said, shooting him a dismissive glance.
Dex grinned. 'I wouldn't be too sure, Beth.' His grey eyes gleamed with mocking amusement as he held her slightly away from him and added, 'Your delectable body tells a different story.'
'Don't flatter yourself,' she muttered, 'it's the heat. This catsuit is like a strait-jacket.'
Dex chuckled. '"Straight" is hardly how I would describe you.' His glance swept over her slender curves in frank masculine appreciation, and his chuckle changed to outright laughter.
Words failed her. He might find the situation highly amusing, but she was mortified. If he laughed at her once more she would hit him. But cold common sense told her that sparring with Dex was a losing game. Dancing was probably a whole lot safer than trying to argue with him in this crowd. Relaxing slightly against him, she felt his arms tighten around her. It felt so good, and, if she was honest, it was where she wanted to be. With a soft sigh she buried her head on his chest and gave herself up to the music.
Beth liked dancing, and for a large man Dex was amazingly light on his feet. They moved around the floor in perfect unison, not speaking, simply swaying to the sounds of the music. The seductive power of his body had Beth, against all her better intentions, melting against
him.
The tempo of the music changed to a heavy jungle beat, and Dex bent low so that his breath brushed her cheek. 'Do you want to continue?'
'Yes.' Why not? she thought. It was a party and she deserved some fun, and, slipping out of his arms, she began to gyrate with the music. Her green eyes clashed with his. 'If you can,' she goaded him. And he could. . .
He danced the same way as he did everything-—perfectly. She should have guessed. Beth had thought him the sexiest man on two legs before, but watching his long body move with sinuous grace to the heavy beat was a lesson in eroticism that made her respond in kind.
As if by some unspoken agreement for the next half- hour or more they danced, and laughed, and teased each other with their bodies in perfect harmony. When eventually the music returned to a slow beat and Dex pulled her into his arms, Beth went willingly.
'My little cat, my fantasy,' he murmured against the top of her head. His hands stroked up and down her arms, one hand finally settling at the base of her spine, holding her tightly against him, and his other hand curving around her chin and tilting her head back. 'Will you purr for me, Beth?' he asked, his dark eyes intent on her flushed face. 'Fulfil my fantasy?'
'My turn, I think.' Mike's voice cut in before Beth could answer.
'Okay. . . ' Dex said, his hand falling from her chin and turning her deftly towards Mike. 'I'll go and find us all a drink.' He was in complete control in a second, while Beth was fighting for breath.
Beth didn't know whether to be grieved or relieved as Mike whirled her around the floor. 'Why the haste, brother dear?' she managed to get out when she had recovered enough to speak.
Stopping dead at the edge of the dance floor, Mike looked straight at her and demanded, 'What exactly is going on between you and Giordanni?'
'Nothing. Nothing at all.'
'This is Mike, your brother. I know you, and I remember the gooey-eyed look you had after you met the man at the boss's party. So what gives? Have you been dating him ever since?'
'Don't be silly. I went out with him a couple of times, and realised he wasn't my type. I haven't seen him for weeks.'
'So why is he almost devouring you on the dance floor? And why did he call at your apartment tonight?'
'Mike, you're beginning to sound like Big Brother with all your questions. I have no idea why Giordanni called at my apartment, and Í don't really care.'
But she did care, and she couldn't believe her own oversight. She had spent the last hour with the man actually enjoying herself, if she was honest, and it had never occurred to her to ask Dex why he had called. She had to pull herself together. So far she had been reacting, not acting.
'Sorry. But according to Elizabeth you needed rescuing. Don't ask me why. "Women's intuition," she said, and, as her wish is my command, consider yourself rescued,' Mike informed her with a wry smile.
'You're a fool, but I love you.' She was touched by his protective attitude.
'As long as you're not a fool over Giordanni.' Mike's blue-eyed gaze was suddenly serious. 'He is a handsome devil, and I know he's a brilliant businessman, but his reputation with the ladies is the pits.'
'Who are you maligning now, fiancé mine?' Elizabeth arrived and tucked her arm through Mike's.
Beth glanced around the room, her eyes widening on the voluptuous lady, who was now exposing one breast, and shot quickly back at Elizabeth. 'The rather lively lady who has just lost a fig leaf,' she improvised, and immediately the attention of Mike and Elizabeth was diverted to the dance floor, much to Beth's relief. The disc jockey was yelling it was midnight, over the music, and the crowd was going wild.
'Oh, my God. Don't you dare look, Mike,' Elizabeth exclaimed, putting her hands over her fiancé's eyes, and laughing with Beth over his shoulder.
'Spoilsport!' Mike cried.
'Here, have a drink and cool down.' Dex's deep voice joined the conversation. Beth spun around to find him standing behind her, miraculously carrying four glasses of champagne in his large hands.
They all took a glass. Beth drank hers straight off; she needed it. She had been perilously close to forgetting why she had left Dex in the first place, and she hated her own weakness.
Suddenly she found the noise was deafening. Her head was beginning to ache, and the hood of her costume was feeling tighter by the minute. She glanced up at Dex. He was hovering over her like a vampire bat, she thought, her imagination running riot. If she didn't escape soon, she would faint. Elizabeth was saying something, Beth knew, but she could barely hear above the noise.
'What did you say?' Beth asked, as Elizabeth and Mike put their empty glasses on a convenient table and hand in hand turned to Beth.
'This party is turning rather wild,' Mike said, sharing a very male look over the top of her head with Dex. 'We're leaving.' And, grabbing Elizabeth's hand, he set off for the exit.
Dex took her glass from her nerveless fingers and set it on the table. 'So are we.'
Arrogant, domineering swine. . . 'No, the party's just warming up,' she challenged, not because she had any desire to stay, but simply to thwart him. He was so damn superior.
'If it gets any warmer, it will be illegal,' Dex replied. Catching Beth's wrist in his large hand, he added, 'Mike and Elizabeth need a ride home. Come on.'
And, weaving through the crowd, he dragged Beth behind him.
Once out of the restaurant and in the fresh air, Dex stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to street level. 'Are you all right? You look a bit pale.' He slanted her a teasing grin. 'For a cat.'
'I'm fine.' Beth tore the hood from her head. She hated the catsuit. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. The relief was unbelievable. With part of her costume gone, part of her common sense returned.
'But what about you? Why did you call at my apartment? Why did you come to this party? You could have easily said no. What exactly are you playing at?' she demanded, finally able to ask all the questions that had been preying on her mind since Dex had walked back into her life.
'Questions, questions. You'd better watch it, Beth. Remember the saying. Curiosity killed the cat.' And he laughed again.
Sick to death of his stupid cat jokes, she turned on him. 'I wish I could kill you,' she said venomously, and, pushing past him, she ran up the steps to the street.
Mike and Elizabeth were standing on the pavement arm in arm, and Beth hastened to stand beside them. Dex appeared a second later. He gave Beth a hard-eyed stare but said not a word. A snap of his fingers and, by some miracle, the limousine drew up alongside the kerb.
'Where to first?' Dex addressed the question to Mike.
'My place.' He looked at Dex and smiled as he gave the address. 'My new fiancée and I have a lot to discuss.'
'Drop me off first,' Beth said quickly, and looked at Dex too. He stared down at her with narrowed eyes, his expression unreadable.
'Let's leave it to the driver.' He said coolly, his hand at Beth's elbow urging her into the back of the car. Nobody argued with him. . .
Mike and Elizabeth were in a world of their own, arms around each other, whispering sweet nothings, and it was Beth's sheer bad luck that Mike's apartment was a whole lot nearer the restaurant than hers.
'Here.' Elizabeth handed Dex Beth's door keys. 'Look after her.' After a hasty goodnight, the couple quickly headed towards Mike's door.
It was obvious what they had in mind, and who could blame them? They were young and in love. But, unfortunately for Beth, it left her alone in the back seat of the car with Dex. Plus, the man had her door key.
They sat side by side in tense silence as the chauffeur drove through the city. Beth slanted Dex a sidelong glance and quickly looked away. He was bitterly angry. She could sense it, see it in the rigid lines of his hard face. Her nerves were pulled as taut as a bowstring—if she didn't get out of the car in a moment, she would scream.
She felt the tension increase with every passing mile, and breathed a sigh of relief when the limousine cruised qu
ietly to a halt outside her apartment building. The chauffeur got out and, after walking around the front of the car, held open the door. Dex slid out and stood on the pavement, waiting for her.
He was simply being polite, Beth told herself, and slid out after him. 'Thank you for a nice evening,' she said stiffly, 'give me my key, please.' She held out her hand, hoping to get away with the social niceties. But she didn't.
Taking the hand she offered, Dex ordered, 'Inside,' and dragged her across the foyer and into the lift.
'There's no need for you to accompany me,' Beth said firmly, refusing to be intimidated by his high-handed attitude.
He pressed the elevator button, turning to her with an icy expression in his steely eyes. 'I decide what is needed," he stated. Pulling her out of the elevator, then into her apartment, he added chillingly, 'Not you. Not any more.'
Beth looked up as he closed and locked the door behind him, 'Exactly what do you mean by that?' she demanded, but she couldn't help edging away from him. There was something in his expression, his cold, aloof stance, that sent shivers down her spine.
Ignore him, her common sense told her. Ignore him, walk away, and he'll leave.
'I'm going to get changed.' Beth turned her back to him. 'See yourself out.' And she headed for the door that led into her bedroom. She half expected him to follow, but amazingly he didn't. She closed her bedroom door behind her and wished it had a lock. Then she heard a door slam; she couldn't believe her luck. But she was taking no chances. Quickly she picked up an old green sweatsuit, and dashed into the bathroom. The bathroom did have a lock.
She listened for any sound from the living room, but everything was quiet. Slipping out of the embarrassing costume, she sighed with relief and stepped into the baggy pants. She slipped the sweater over her head and ran her fingers through her hair. Only then did she look in the mirror. A brief smile curved her full mouth, and she gave a grimace of pain as she pulled the whiskers from her face.
Giorganni's Proposal Page 10