by Faye Avalon
“Hmm?”
“Your lunchtime class. What’s it called?”
“Boobs and bums,” she said with a sly smile. “We do exercises guaranteed to lift, tone and tighten.”
“Fuck,” was all he said. And stood watching with a full blown hard-on as the cab drove away.
Chapter Three
“Well?”
Gina squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of Costas’s voice, and wished to heaven she’d let the machine pick up. She swallowed down hard. “Well, what?”
“He still have the hots for you?”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it, baby doll. You’ll have him eating out of your hand, and other more enticing places, with the merest flash of hot flesh. When you seeing him?”
“Tonight.”
On the other end of the line, Costas did that thing with his throat that once she’d found sexy but now repelled her. “Wear your sexiest dress,” he commanded. “Something with easy access. Remember, the sooner you get him naked and compromised, the sooner this will be over.”
“I know what to do, you bastard. Just don’t keep calling me.”
“Or what? The deal’s off?” He laughed. “You say the word, and I’ll press the button. It’s all set up and ready to go. Don’t forget that.”
How could she forget? It had haunted her days and her nights for over a week now. “He’s no idiot. If he realizes I’m manipulating him, he’ll call a halt to the whole thing.”
“Then you make sure he doesn’t realize. All you have to do is flash your tits at him and he’ll want his cock inside you before the night’s out.”
She cringed at his crudeness. Where had her head been when she’d hooked up with him again three months ago? It would have been smarter to remember what he’d been like in college—one of those sullen types who roamed in small gangs and were rumored to skirt the boundaries of the law. But in her defense, he was a different person when she’d met him again. Outgoing, adventurous and seemingly a very successful businessman. Added to which, he’d kept her satisfied between the sheets right up to the moment when he’d dropped his bombshell.
It was then she knew she’d been played. That he’d chosen to hook up with her for one single purpose.
It hurt. She’d spent so long protecting herself from getting hurt, making sure that she always chose the bad boys who, like her, had no intention of falling in love and settling down. No way on God’s green earth was she ever putting herself in a position where a man could break her heart like her father had broken her mother’s.
But it seemed there were many ways a man could hurt a woman. While Costas hadn’t broken her heart, he’d stolen something from her—something equally precious and which she didn’t know if she’d ever get back. Her trust.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this Costas. What’s Mitchell ever done to you?”
“Like I’ve told you before, that’s none of your business, doll face. You just do what you’re told and let me worry about the rest.”
He hung up before she could speak again. Gina put down the phone and stared at it. How had she never known what a snake he was? How hadn’t she guessed?
Probably because she’d been distracted. The sex had been too good. He was exciting—in and out of the sack—and she loved his reckless side. With his dark Greek good looks and muscular body, she had been spellbound by his physicality and sheer masculine appeal.
Which went to prove how stupidly naïve she had been.
Her thoughts returned to that night. When she’d let him tie her up, blindfold her. It wasn’t as if he’d never done that before, but this time had been different. He’d never tied her ankles before, preferring her legs free to manipulate her to his needs, but this time he’d strapped her ankles to the posts of his bed. Even then she’d thought it exciting, and a thrill had rippled through her at what he might do while she was at his mercy.
Strange that she’d trusted him never to hurt her. And he hadn’t. At least not physically.
Aware that her lunchtime class was starting to arrive, she walked around the reception desk and forced her mind away from her troubles. It was a full class, as was every other class that day, and she had a waiting list for each.
She hadn’t lied to Mitch about wanting to expand, and when this was all over she intended to ignore having a love life and, like Mitch, concentrate on her business. The only long term and permanent relationship she wanted was with her studio.
Maybe she really could get some advice from him about expanding her business before he found out what her real plans were and told her to get the hell out of his life.
With that depressing thought battling for attention, Gina went into the larger of her three workout rooms and prepared to begin her class.
A little after seven, Gina hopped into the shower. It had been a packed afternoon and two Pilates and one yoga class later, she felt stretched, primped and relaxed.
She ran the sponge over her glowing body and let the scent of ginger and lemon flood her nostrils. She’d managed to dash home to her apartment between sessions to grab a cocktail dress and lacy wrap, not to mention fuck-me shoes with four inch heels.
After this was over, she’d need to seriously rethink her wardrobe. She could donate most of it to charity seeing as she’d have no more need for skimpy dresses, thigh-hugging skirts, and shoes she could barely walk in. For her new lifestyle, she’d need business suits, designer workout gear and sensible footwear. She’d want to convey a businesslike aura, no longer the fun-loving persona she’d tried on for size when she was sixteen and had never allowed herself to shake off.
With her resolve reaffirmed, she stepped from the shower, toweled herself off and sprayed the remnants of her current perfume on her dampened body. That was something else she’d need to change. Her favored scent would go from sultry to flowery. From dark to light. For her new life she’d change everything.
But not yet.
Remembering the purpose of her meeting with Mitch, she sprayed the musky scent on more liberally before slipping into a dark red lacy thong and matching bra. She checked herself in the mirror, pushed her hand into the bra cup, lifted each breast until her cleavage was suitably plump and enticing. She’d seen the way Mitch’s eyes had darkened when he’d looked at her breasts that morning and the way he’d shifted in his chair when she’d mentioned that time he’d seen her breasts in the shower room at college. No doubt he was a breast man. She’d have to use that to advantage.
She refused to even think about the reason she was doing this. Refused to consider what harm she might be doing to Mitch. He was strong enough to weather whatever storm would blow his way, while her mother was a different matter.
If Costas made good on his threat, her mother might never recover from the shame and disappointment. Gina had to make sure that never happened. It was in her hands and she’d do whatever was necessary to protect her mother.
She reached for the dress she’d hung in one of the locker room cupboards, and slipped it over her head. Midnight blue silk encased her body, fitting where it touched. It had cost a fortune, but was worth every penny for the solicitous male glances it earned every time she wore it.
The dress draped at the neckline, allowing a hint of cleavage, before cinching in at the waist then skimming her hips to end mid thigh.
Lucy, her admin, popped her head around the door. “Your man’s arrived,” she said with a knowing wink. “I’ve left him in reception with the evening paper. You never said he was seriously gorgeous. A few thousand levels up from the sleazebag, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Since Lucy had been with her almost from the first moment she’d opened her studio five years ago, and in that time had become a good friend as well as a treasured employee, Gina didn’t mind her saying. Lately, she’d thought of Costas in the same manner.
“I�
��ll be right out. How do I look?”
“Like Mr. Seriously Gorgeous is about to get lucky,” Lucy said as Gina slipped on the killer heels. “If that’s your intention. Can’t say it wouldn’t be mine if I were in your currently ball-breaking shoes. Are you trying to kill the man?”
No. Just compromise him.
Hell. She couldn’t think about it. All she had to do was get through this evening, get the job done, and then it would all be over. With that in mind, she reached for her bag and slipped her hand inside to check her phone was there.
“Did you do the dirty together?” Lucy asked with a grin. “Back in college?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Haven’t you got something to do? Like prepare for the seven-thirty class?”
“Max is already here. Half those women only come to see him anyway. They don’t need me cramping their style.”
“Remind me that I need to ask Max if he can take on another class on Saturday mornings. We have enough on the waiting list to start one up and most of the people on the list are happy to do weekends.”
“Okay. Will you be back later?”
The question wasn’t a surprise since she often called in after a night out in town to make sure everything was locked and secure for the night. Except those nights she spent with Costas. He always demanded that she stay the entire night with him. Considering his high sex drive, she hadn’t questioned his motives for wanting her there.
Now she realized he was a control freak and if anyone didn’t do what he asked, or dared to question him, he’d throw a fit. Once she’d thought that hint of danger about him was exciting and sexy, now she knew he really was dangerous and unpredictable. And there was nothing sexy about that.
“Yes, I’ll pop back, but will you turn off the lights and everything? I’ll just do a quick check.”
With that Gina left the shower room and headed back to reception. Mitch was sitting relaxed in one of the bright yellow bucket chairs reading the paper, one ankle propped over the opposite knee. He glanced up as she moved toward him, his blue eyes piercing hers.
“You look…” He folded the paper. “Amazing.”
He rose from the chair, unfolding his long, lean length. His dark suit went well with the dark gray shirt and matching silky tie. Smart and sexy, and so mouth-wateringly delicious she ached to ruffle him up a little.
He gave her one of those up and down glances at which he was so adept, the kind that made her hormones sing and her panties dampen.
“Seeing you looking like that, I think we can do better than Legressi’s. Shall we?”
He reached around her to open the door and stepped back so that she could go first. The heat hit her as soon as she stepped onto the pavement. July evenings in London could be a sweaty, sticky affair.
He led her toward a black convertible, parked illegally, and opened the passenger door.
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re lucky not to be clamped. They’re pretty hot around here.”
With his arm along the top of the door, he grinned. “Looks like my luck’s holding out.”
Gina grinned back. “What happened to the guy who used to play by the rules? You were always the conservative one, remember?”
“People change. Weren’t you telling me you’ve given up your reckless ways? Well, maybe I’ve decided there’s no fun in always playing by the rules.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Like I said, people change.”
A shiver ran through her at the thought of how he might have changed. She’d always thought him desperately sexy, amazingly attractive, but that conservative core that ran through him always indicated he’d err on the side of caution. Her wayward teenage needs weren’t interested in the conservative. The conservative was too safe, too dangerous in its own way. People got hurt when they wanted the normal, natural things in life that most people wanted. Gina hadn’t wanted to fall for a man like Mitch. A man who would want forever after. A home, children, and all that entailed.
She hadn’t wanted all those things for herself. She really hadn’t. There was always too much to lose. Too much potential for heartache.
But now, if Mitch had decided there was no fun in playing by the rules, maybe she could relax a little and not keep thinking about how his life might be turned around by what she was about to do, and how he might be hurt by it all. What Costas wanted her to do was hateful to her, but what choice did she have? At least now, with Mitch not being quite so straight-laced and not having a steady girlfriend or lover or, God forbid, wife, she wouldn’t have to feel so bad about what she was going to do to him.
Except that was a cop out, and she knew it.
They drove through the busy evening traffic until they arrived at an upscale restaurant in Mayfair. Gina looked at the restaurant’s unobtrusive façade, which did little to suggest the opulence to be found within—at least if the reports in the lifestyle section of the Sunday papers were anything to go by—then she looked back at Mitch.
“I heard this place was booked months ahead.”
She had the unnerving feeling that he’d already made a booking a while back and she was some sort of fill-in-the-blank date. Had he been planning on taking the woman from last night’s dinner here? Or maybe another of his lovers?
She didn’t like the thought of that.
“It’s always pretty much booked solid. Unless you know who to talk to.”
“And you do?”
He only smiled and stepped out of the car.
The concierge came forward and held her door, and seconds later she was in the opulent foyer of La Belle Maison. Dark red velvet was the overwhelming impression, matched with cream and ivory cushions on the deep leather sofas.
Mitch touched his hand to the small of her back as the waiter led them through to a lounge area. Once they were seated, the waiter hovered with his pristine white linen towel across his arm and a silver tray in his hand.
“What would you like?” Mitch asked.
Busy soaking up the visual bounty of her surroundings, it took Gina a moment to realize he’d spoken. “Wine would be nice.”
Mitchell ordered a bottle of something she’d never heard of before, but which sounded incredibly grand, especially in that hormone-inducing French accent he used.
“Did you already have a table booked?” Gina couldn’t help asking as the waiter moved away. “Or do you have a standing booking for Wednesday evenings?”
One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Like I said, I know who to talk to.”
Since he hadn’t really answered her question, Gina decided she wouldn’t push. There was really no need. Nothing mattered except getting Mitch to do her bidding. Or more precisely, Costas’s bidding.
If she was going to get this over sooner rather than later, she should start to consider some serious flirting. The faster she could get Mitchell Coleman into bed and do the dirty, the sooner this whole nightmare would be over and done with.
She sat back and crossed her legs, watching with satisfaction as his gaze slipped to her thighs.
His eyes met hers again and he smiled. “Unless I’m missing something fairly fundamental here, I’d say you’re flirting with danger.”
Boy, was she ever. But he couldn’t know about that. She rolled her foot at the ankle, showing the killer heels off to best advantage.
He kept his eyes on hers as the waiter brought their drinks. When the man left, Mitch raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to tell me the real reason you sought me out last night? And don’t give me that bullshit about wanting business advice or making amends.”
“You really have changed. Seeing spooks around every corner. Why would you possibly think I had an ulterior motive?” The question made her stomach sink like a stone, but she wouldn’t let it throw her from her mission.
“You keep flashing your thighs at me. No reason to do that for some simple financial adv
ice.”
Flirt, she ordered herself as that stone in her stomach settled in for the duration. Flirt and don’t over-think it. “You don’t like my thighs?”
Watching her, he reached for his drink and took a sip. “There’s nothing not to like.”
“Then stop complaining.”
“Who said I’m complaining? It’s just hard to forget the girl who led me on, got me to strip naked with the promise of a good time, then stole my clothes and ran off with them, leaving me buck naked and humiliated.”
Because he grinned, she smiled back. “I had to get you back for sneaking into the shower room and seeing me buck naked.”
“I didn’t actually get to see everything. You turned away before I could catch a real eyeful. But I do remember a rather excellent ass.”
“It’s even better now. Boobs and Bums, remember?”
“How could I forget? It’s driven into my brain for all eternity. I almost called to sign up for the class.”
She sipped her own drink, watching him over the rim. “From what I’ve seen, you don’t need it.”
“You haven’t seen anything, at least not for near on twelve years. Things have improved since then.”
“I can imagine.”
“Excuse me, sir.” The waiter stood before them. “Your table is ready.”
Gina offered up her thanks for that, seeing as she was getting so hot and bothered she marveled she wasn’t red as a beetroot into the bargain.
Again, Mitchell placed his hand on the small of her back and led her through to their table. She liked the contact, liked the feel of his large hand against her, his long fingers spread against her spine with a light pressure that made it seem possessive and protective at the same time.
While they enjoyed smoked salmon on a bed of lightly cooked spinach, the conversation centered on business and she outlined more of her plans to Mitch. He seemed to think they were doable, if a little ambitious.
“Have you thought about franchising?”
Gina speared a tiny piece of salmon. “I have, but it’s not something I want to explore just yet. I want to see if I can do it myself.”