The Most Expensive Night of Her Life

by Amy Andrews

  Blake chuckled at her half-hearted offer. He couldn’t see her eyes but he’d have been deaf not to have heard the reluctance in her voice. ‘They’re all yours,’ he said, waving them back.

  ‘Good answer.’ She grinned as she dived for the remaining chips.

  Blake’s breath caught in his lungs. If this Ava straddled him right now his powers of resistance would be totally useless.

  * * *

  By six o’clock that evening they’d moored just upstream from Windsor Castle. The unparalleled views of the extensive grounds surrounding the castle as they had floated past had been amazing and Ava, who had apparently met the queen, had been excited to see the royal standard flying high from the round tower indicating Her Majesty was in residence.

  After last night, Blake hadn’t expected to enjoy the day as much as he had. He’d expected Ava to be petulant and difficult—like a spoiled child who hadn’t got her way—but she’d been perfectly well behaved and he was smiling to himself as he came in from outside, pulling a beer bottle from the fridge and cracking the lid.

  If Ava could keep up her ordinary-girl act and give the sex-kitten/prima-donna a rest, it could be an enjoyable time, while it lasted. Of course, it could be even more enjoyable if he allowed himself to be seduced. But he was determined to show her he was one of the good guys. That she could trust him.

  A cutting board with chopped tomatoes and onions sat waiting on the kitchen bench and fresh basil spiced the air. Ava wasn’t dancing around his kitchen and, as he’d heard the pump kick in while he’d been checking the ropes, he assumed she was showering.

  His brain wandered to that delightful prospect before he pulled himself back from the image. Do not think about her showering. What he needed to do was go and grab some supplies out of his room while she wasn’t in it. Some clothes and toiletries etc.

  Except when he stepped into his bedroom he discovered she wasn’t in the shower. He pulled up short just inside the doorway as his gaze fell on bare golden shoulders.

  Ava looked up as Blake entered the room. Their eyes met and there was a world of surprise in those few seconds. But there were other things as well, especially when his gaze dropped and lingered at the point where her damp hair brushed her collarbones.

  There was a hell of a lot of want in that lingering contact.

  They’d had a good time today. Blake had seemed to relax more as the day had worn on and she was even left with the impression that he might actually like her. Certainly not how she’d felt after last night’s debacle.

  And there’d been something so sexy about the way he handled the boat. Maybe it was the whole Captain Capable thing he had going on or maybe it was just the way his T-shirt had fitted snugly across solid biceps.

  Either way, his attraction had cranked up several notches since last night and her belly tightened at the thought of just how capable he might be on the big beautiful bed right in front of her.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, breaking the silence that stretched between them.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Blake said, dragging his eyes back to hers—no easy feat considering she was dressed in nothing but a towel. ‘I thought you were still in the shower.’

  Ava shrugged and watched as his gaze followed the motion. She raised her hand to where the towel was firmly tucked into itself between her breasts and was satisfied when his gaze took the trip with her.

  ‘Nope. Not any more,’ she murmured. ‘All fresh and clean.’

  Blake took an absent sip of his beer that he’d forgotten he was even carrying. ‘Yes.’

  A small smile played on Ava’s lips at his obvious distraction. Blake could deny himself as much as he liked in the name of honour but it was pretty obvious what he really wanted. ‘Did you want something?’ she asked. ‘Or were you secretly hoping to catch me getting dressed?’

  Blake frowned as the words yanked him out of his stupor. He really hoped she didn’t seriously think he’d come into the room to cop a perve. He wasn’t some horny bloke who let the content of his underpants dictate his actions. He’d proved himself to be pretty honourable under circumstances where most men would have cracked and she could take a flying leap into the canal if she thought otherwise.

  But then he noticed that predatory gleam from last night in her eyes again, which suited all her languid feline grace, and he knew what this was.

  Goodbye, ordinary girl. Hello, sex kitten.

  Ava watched Blake transition from annoyed to wary but she wasn’t about to let it stop her. ‘It’s okay, you know, to admit there’s something between us, Blake,’ she said, gliding forward. ‘To want to do something about it. I know that you feel you’re in a position of trust but I’m not going to think any less of you.’

  Even in a towel, with acres of tanned, toned flesh on display, she still pulled off a superior look better than anyone he knew. Maybe he should have let her off at the castle for the night with the Queen.

  At least she wouldn’t be here, naked but for a towel, tempting him to forget what was right, forget that every instinct he possessed warned him to stay way away from her.

  Her shoulders were, oh, so bare, oh, so lovely as she pulled up in front of him. Right in front of him. He doubted he’d even have to extend his arm its full length to brush fingers along her collarbones. To yank her body flush with his.

  Blake pulled his gaze up, meeting her frank, knowing eyes. A whole world of temptation stared back at him. ‘Yes, but I’ll think less of me,’ he said.

  She looked at him through half-closed lashes like some silver-screen goddess, one of her snooty little half-smiles playing on her mouth. ‘I promise you won’t have to think at all.’

  She seemed to have shifted tack from last night—from brash self-assurance to coquettish flirtation and Blake decided he liked this Ava better. Almost as much as he liked the possibility of a little mindless sex despite the faint echo of warning bells clanging somewhere. He’d spent a lot of the last few years inside his head, thinking. Just like now. Letting that all go while he lost himself in Ava for a while was an attractive proposition.

  He looked at her mouth, which was dead ahead. Right there, ready to claim, her lips two perfect arcs aside from the tiny dip in the middle of the top one that was incredibly fascinating. He’d really like to lick her just there.

  And along those lovely collarbones.

  It would be so easy. He leaned his shoulder into the door frame. ‘Just leave my brain on the table by the bed, huh?’

  Ava, encouraged by the way he appeared to be considering her words instead of rejecting them outright, broadened her smile. ‘Well not entirely. Don’t forget what they say about the body’s largest sexual organ being the brain.’

  Blake gave a soft snort. ‘Only men with small penises say that.’

  Ava was momentarily surprised by his quick, disdainful comeback and then she laughed. He was so serious and yet the quip had been fast and witty. If he’d just put a smile on that marvellous mouth it could even be classed as banter.

  It definitely made him seem more approachable and her hopes soared. ‘Well, that...’ she let her gaze travel down to the area between his hips, then back up again ‘...counts you out.’

  Blake’s groin leapt to life at her blatant reminder. He could still feel the warm clamp of her hand around him. How right it had felt when she’d stroked him last night good and firm, just the way he liked it.

  His fingers itched to touch her. To stroke along her shoulders, up her throat, along her mouth. But being dressed in only a towel was a double-edged sword. Sure, she might look sexy and gorgeous and utterly accessible, but it also reminded him of how vulnerable she was and he was reminded of her pallor and fright straight after the shooting.

  He was reminded that she was under his protection. ‘I was never in,’ he said and hoped it sounded definite.

  Ava se
nsed he was wavering. She smiled at him, not convinced that he was convinced. Still convinced she could talk him round if she trod carefully. God knew, her abdominals were scrunched so tight in anticipation she’d never need do another sit-up again.

  She sighed as she took a half-step closer. ‘You’re hard on a girl’s ego, Blake Walker.’

  Blake didn’t trust her easy-going reply, not when she was somehow closer than she’d been a moment ago. Somehow more enticing.

  Okay, this was getting dangerous. Time to step away from the sex kitten.

  He took a mental pace backwards. ‘I’m sure your ego can take it,’ he said dryly.

  Ava sensed his withdrawal but tried not to panic. She could still reel him in; she was sure of it. ‘You know us supermodels.’ She shrugged again for good effect, satisfied when his gaze locked on her shoulders. ‘Always needing someone around assuring us we’re beautiful.’

  Blake battled the urge to assure Ava with his tongue down her throat, or in her ear or licking all the way down her body. Instead, he straightened in the doorway. ‘Oh, you’re beautiful, Ava Kelly,’ he said. ‘But I’m going to take a shower.’

  A cold one.

  Ava raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that an invitation?’

  Blake’s groin roused further as a bunch of possibilities played through his head. A very cold one. ‘No. It is not,’ he said, then turned away.

  No, no, no. Ava knew she’d lost him. Stubborn man. But she refused to give up. ‘Blake.’ She slipped a hand on his retreating shoulder.

  Blake tensed. He wished she wouldn’t touch him. He didn’t want her to touch him. It made him want to touch her right back. And a bunch of other things too. He turned.

  ‘What?’ he asked impatiently. ‘Time to offer me some more money?’

  Ava gasped as if he had slapped her. It stung that he was throwing her bribery back in her face. But most of all it stung because he made it sound so cheap.

  ‘Go to hell,’ she snapped. ‘You think you’re such a goody bloody two shoes? You think self-denial is so freaking honourable? Go right on ahead, you believe it, whatever helps you get through the night, buddy. But you and I both know how badly you want this, how much you want to succumb and how it’s only a matter of time before you give into temptation.’

  Blake was taken aback by the ferocious yellow glitter in her eyes as all Ava’s fierce feline juju leapt out at him. She was pretty angry at him and yes, he conceded, maybe that had been a low blow.

  But she was hitting pretty low too and her accuracy was startling. Still, no way was he going to let her know that. ‘Ava, I wouldn’t succumb to temptation if you were lying naked on my bed,’ he said, jabbing a finger towards it, ‘with beer poured all over you.’

  Ava knew there were only two possible comebacks to that. One was to slam the door in his face. Choosing the other, she reached over and plucked the beer out of his hands. ‘Wanna bet?’

  NINE

  Any issues Ava might have once had with taking her clothes off in front of strangers had died very quickly when she’d hit the big time. Over a decade in front of one camera or another she could very definitely look at her body with objectivity—the way the people who paid her did. For them she was just a canvas for an artist aka fashion designer to decorate in whatever way he/she wanted.

  Years on catwalks where quick crowded changes were paramount and modesty something that nobody worried about had taught her that nudity was passé and certainly nothing to be ashamed of or worried about. Parading around in clothes that often left little to the imagination—be it on the catwalk, or for a magazine shoot or a television commercial—had compounded this view.

  So lying on her back on Blake’s bed, wriggling to the very centre, then peeling her towel away was no biggie for her. Even if he’d never seen her in a single magazine, he’d been given a pretty good preview last night.

  Except, at the last moment, as the towel fell away, she raised the leg closest to him, bending it at the knee and placing the foot flat on the bedspread, shielding the full view of her lower half from his eyes, providing a modicum of decency. She wasn’t sure why she did it but she felt suddenly reluctant to strip off all the way.

  Aware Blake was watching every single move, she raised herself up on one elbow and, facing the ceiling, she tipped her head back, her hair brushing the coverlet, and took a long deep swallow of his beer. Then she held it just above the hollow at the base of her throat.

  Blake could not tear his eyes away from a butt-naked Ava sprawled in the middle of his bed. An erection big enough to cause cerebral infarction from lack of blood flow to his brain pressed painfully against the zip of his jeans.

  Her breasts were firm, the slight side swell utterly tempting, her nipples enticingly lickable. Her belly dipped down from her ribs and the play of muscles there as she held her torso semi-upright was fascinating, drawing his attention to the inward swirl of her perfect belly button.

  He swallowed. ‘Ava.’

  She looked at him for long moments, her gaze knowing, and he wished he could turn away from the delectable sight of her, but he was powerless to resist. She gave him a slow sexy smile as if she knew he was waiting for the show, then she slowly tipped the bottle up.

  Blake felt her gasp hit him square in the groin as cold beer spilled down her naked skin. He watched as it flowed down her sternum, branching out as it ran down her body, sending rivulets across the swell of her breasts, her nipples ruching at the contact of the cold liquid. It dipped into the valleys of her ribs and washed down the centre of her abs, spilling down her sides and pooling in her belly button.

  Her leg hid how much lower it might have flowed, which was just as well. He did not want to think about that combination of beer and woman.

  It wasn’t conducive to clear thinking.

  He shut his eyes, thinking about all the reasons why this was a bad idea. Damsel in distress. Knight in shining armour. Protector. Defender.

  Honour.

  Trust.

  He opened his eyes in time to see her collapsing back against the bed. She held her hand out to him and said, ‘Please,’ like freaking Eve lying down on a bed of apples.

  Really red, really juicy apples.

  And something snapped inside him then. There was only so much provocation he could stand and what the hell he was holding out for when she was a grown woman who clearly knew her own mind was a mystery not even he could fathom any more.

  He strode into the room until he was standing beside the bed, looking directly down at her. At all of her. Every last inch. A beautiful contradiction in femininity. Smooth and firm. Soft and supple—interesting curves and sculpted muscles.

  And very, very sticky.

  His gaze tracked the path of the beer from her throat to where it had pooled in her belly button and then lower. Yes, it had run lower, drenching the trimmed strip of hair at the apex of her thighs.

  And he was suddenly very, very thirsty!

  Her foot dangling over the edge of the mattress rubbed against his leg and streaked heat up his thigh, urging him on. And he wanted to. A part of him wanted to join her on the bed immediately and lick every last trace of sticky, beery residue off her until she was begging him to stop.

  And then do it all again.

  She lay looking up at him with lust in her eyes and a knowing little smile, as if she’d ghost-written the Kama Sutra, but part of him could see past her brash outer confidence now to the vulnerable woman beneath, and that was who he wanted to touch.

  Ava suppressed the growing need to squirm under his scrutiny. Her nipples got harder. Her breath grew shorter as his gaze lowered and lingered between her legs, streaking heat everywhere. She could feel the trickle of moisture where he stared and she wasn’t entirely sure it was all beer.

  His gaze pulled away again and fanned up and o
ver her. He was looking at her as if he wanted to eat her up but wasn’t sure where to start. Other men looked at her as if she had a staple through her navel. As if she were some prize they’d won.

  As if they’d scored with a supermodel and they were looking at her to perform like one.

  Blake was looking as if he was trying to map her entire body. Locate all her hotspots. Work out what he was going to do to them. And how long he was going to spend doing it.

  Like a recon mission.

  Like a soldier.

  Either that or he was committing her to memory before he did a bolt. Something she doubted she’d survive now he’d brought her right to the brink of arousal. Without so much as touching her! Because she was very, very aroused.

  ‘Blake?’

  Her voice was husky and she dragged in some quick breaths to dispel the annoying weakness. But she was pleased when it seemed to bring him out of his intense study.

  Not that he answered her or even said a word. He just locked gazes, put a knee on the bed beside her leg, leaned onto his hands and lowered himself slowly down, his head level with her belly. When he was a whisper away from the puddle of beer in her belly button, he broke eye contact and touched his mouth to her abdomen, his tongue swiping at the now warm liquid.

  Ava gasped, her back arching, her hand reaching down, ploughing through Blake’s dirty-blond hair. She held him against her, afraid he was going to stop or that she was going to float right off the bed.

  Don’t stop, she wanted to say, but there was no need as the hot flat of his tongue swiped and swiped in ever-widening circles around and around her belly until she was whimpering and calling his name.

  ‘Blake.’

  Blake looked up from his ministrations—all the way up. Over her belly and up her ribs, skimming her breasts, fanning up her throat to her mouth, opening and shutting, silently begging him for more. ‘Yes?’

  She raised her head and looked at him with eyes that weren’t quite focused. ‘I...I...’