Double Dare
An erotic romance
Saskia Walker
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2011 Saskia Walker
Please note: this novel has been previously published with an alternative cover.
This book is for sale to adults only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.
Cover image by Refat
Cover design by Mark Walker
Praise for Double Dare
"I Double Dare you to go out and get this book! It will strike such a deep sensual reaction in you that you will definitely need relief. This is more than just an evocative erotic romance, it's a story of sensual exploration between soul mates. What woman doesn’t dream of that? I hated for the story to end. It was beautiful, stirring, solid writing and I can’t wait for more." A Romance Review
"This is a beautiful story of heart warming emotion and sizzling sex... From the emotional interactions of the characters to all of the heart stopping sex, this book is a brilliant romance that has definitely earned a place on my keeper shelf." Just Erotic Romance Reviews
"Double Dare is an awesome tale and keeps the reader hooked from the first page to the last. Erotic doesn’t begin to describe this tale and the heat will send you running for a cold shower and make sure to keep plenty of ice handy." Romance Junkies
"These two characters are a perfect match and the combustible love scenes throughout the book serve to underscore their compatibility. I also enjoyed the unique flavor that Saskia Walker, as an English writer, adds to all of her books." Fallen Angel Reviews
Back cover copy:
Two hearts entangled in a steamy affair and a truth or dare game brought about by a mutual desire for erotic discovery.
Investment broker Abigail Douglas has got it all, but Abby—the woman—longs for a secret affair, a playmate who knows nothing about her high-powered business world, and Zac Bordino might just be the man. He's mysterious and sexy—just right for Abby's walk on the wild side—but very soon she finds that she wants more, and his mysterious, evasive nature makes her curious. Is there more to this sexy, entrepreneurial club owner than meets the eye? And why does she suddenly feel as if her every move is being watched?
Zac Bordino is perplexed when he realizes that the woman managing his business investments is the same woman he's having an affair with. She's pretending to be a little nobody out for a good time, and because she's a red hot number he plays along, cautiously observing her to get to the truth. From high-powered offices in London to pulse-pounding nightclubs in Paris, they find an insatiably perfect match in business and in pleasure. But when Zac begins to fall for Abby, he has to decide whether to reveal the secret link between them, or try to win her heart first.
Please note: this novel has been previously published with an alternative cover.
Dedication:
For Barbara, who encouraged me to write, and for my real life hero, Mark, who dared me to live my dream and is right there with me every step of the way.
Chapter One
"Coming through, hold the doors." Abigail Douglas clutched her take-out lunch packages to her chest and made a dash for the elevator.
An arm shot out, one strong hand halting the movement of the stainless steel doors. She ducked under it, noting as she did the rolled up white linen shirtsleeve and the muscular male forearm.
She quickly counted three occupants, a couple, and the man who'd halted the doors for her. "Thanks." She turned on her heel quickly as the heavy doors shut behind her.
Bright blue eyes met hers, and a wolfish smile. "Any time."
She looked the man over and her body switched all systems to red alert. She'd already been on amber alert—it was a sweltering August day and heat did bad things to her. Men weren't safe from her scrutiny. Especially gorgeous ones with wolfish smiles. Tall and lean, with black hair and startling azure eyes. A document dispatch package rested in one of his hands.
As the elevator moved, she picked a napkin out of the lunch bags and fluttered it in her hand in a futile attempt to stir the air.
Reflected in the shiny surface of the doors she could make out the couple at her side, wobbly but distinct. A suited man, flirting with a bubbly blonde. He was running his fingers over her back whilst whispering in her ear. The blonde giggled in response and shuffled on her high heels, pinning him up against the wall of the elevator.
Abby glanced back at the guy by the door. He caught her eye. He was half smiling to himself.
She glanced away, then back.
He didn't falter under her stare, but then nodded back toward the couple to her right.
The blonde was leaning in against her man, nuzzling his ear with her mouth. He was gone on it, his face contorted with pleasure. His hands clutched at her bottom, riding her dress up. He had a handful of it in his greedy paws as he fondled her behind. The tops of her lacey stockings were on display as a result, her buttocks peeping out below the hemline too.
Abby stifled a laugh then looked back at the wolf-smile on the guy's face. His eyes were narrowed while he watched her, watching them. Curiosity stirred inside her, and arousal. They shared the silent joke. He'd made an intimate connection with her. More than that, there was a contained sexuality about him that aroused a deep response. A pulse charged through her body and began a slow throbbing between her thighs. It was a direct response, a need: she wanted him.
She barely registered the ping of the elevator doors. It was her floor. She gathered herself, shoving the napkin back in the bag.
He rose up to his full height and nodded as she passed.
What a hunk. Dangerous looking too. Wouldn't some sexy leisure time with him be something? She shook her head as she walked across the plushly carpeted landing and through the heavy glass door of the Robertson Corporation offices.
As she waited to hear the familiar sound of the door whooshing shut behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, awareness darting over her body. She turned back just in time to see the doors whoosh closed behind another body. The guy from the elevator was standing directly behind her.
Up close, he was devastating. She was tall, but he was taller still. Those startling bright blue eyes of his contrasted with his darker looks, black hair and lashes to die for. His nose was a little over long, not entirely straight, and his lips were firm and passionate. Hooded eyes measured her reaction, his brow drawn down as he looked at her—an urban predator, his presence impacting on all her senses as he stalked in her wake.
He's a man and you're horny. Get over it. She took a deep breath and gave him a professional smile. "Can I help?"
"Documents for Tom Robertson." He gestured with the package in his hand.
"Right, of course, come in." Glancing over at the front desk she saw that Suzanne, the receptionist, was busy on the phone. She stepped behind the desk, set down the lunch bags and put out her hand.
He passed her the package.
She noticed his poise. Even dressed casually in faded jeans and a soft, white linen shirt he made an impact. The shirt fell open around his neck, revealing the elegant line of his lean throat and collarbone, as well as the taut muscle of his upper chest. His hair was thick and black. She wondered what it would feel like under her hands.
"You'll need a signature," she managed.
His eyes lit. "Yes. Indeed." He felt around in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, glancing at it.
She scrabbled on the desk for a pen. Suzanne put one in her hand without breaking her conversation. Glancing down at her, Abby could see Suzanne watched with amusement.
He put the piece of paper on the desk, pointing. "Just sign over that one, the last client signed in the wrong place." His voice had a
deep, resonant timbre, as if he were suggesting an illicit rendezvous rather than asking for a signature. It ran over her body like silk over naked skin, making her prickle with awareness. She could collect packages from him all day long.
She signed and passed it back.
"Anything I can help you two with?" Suzanne turned to give them her full attention, once her call was over.
"Thanks, Suz, we're fine." She smiled apologetically at the guy. "She's training me in, I'm new on reception."
Suzanne chuckled at the comment, but didn't contradict it. "Got anything else for us or is that it?"
"That's it, no...wait." He dipped his hand into his back pocket again.
Abby watched, suddenly aware of her fingers and how they might feel dipping into that pocket for him.
He put a couple of business cards down on the desk, black, with a silver hologram image of an eye. "It's a new venue, over in Camden. I recommend it."
Abby picked up one of the cards, passing the other to Suzanne. She felt as if she'd been given a calling card by a magician. When she moved it, the hologram eye winked.
The Hub : Theater : Gallery : Music : Happenings
Location details, contacts and web addresses were scrolled beneath.
Suzanne grinned and popped the card into the pocket on her shirt. "Thanks. Personal recommendations for party time are always welcome."
The courier saluted, pocketed his receipt and with one last glance at Abby, sauntered back out onto the landing. After he hit the elevator call button he stood to one side, where he glanced back at them from under those hooded eyes of his.
Sex on a stick.
Abby pulled herself together and gestured at Suzanne, pointing at her lunch bag, trying to regain some semblance of normality. "Here you go."
"Thanks," Suzanne mumbled, reaching into the bag for the food, not moving her gaze from the view.
"No problem," Abby replied, also unable to force herself to look away.
"Now I know why you're always smiling, Suz," she whispered, "being out here on reception duty is so entertaining."
Suzanne shook her head. "They're not all like him, believe me."
"Shame."
The elevator doors opened. He saluted them one last time before stepping inside.
"He was interested in you."
Abby smiled. "You think?"
"Absolutely."
"I wouldn't turn down the chance to check him out." She watched as the doors slid shut and the numbers on the overhead panel began to descend. "But guys like that always do a runner when they find out what I do for a living. Most men can't cope with a woman who's an investment advisor, unless they're in the high finance business themselves."
"I can see how that might happen." Suzanne nodded, ruffling her curly hair in her hands. It immediately fell back into place.
Abby smiled. If she'd done that, her hair would be a tangled mess and she'd look like the wicked witch of the west.
"Is that why you let him think you were a receptionist?" Suzanne added.
Abby shrugged. "It just kind of happened, but I have been known to tell the odd white lie when I'm on the prowl. It's just easier."
She glanced up as she unwrapped her stuffed ciabatta. "You know, I think that shows a human side."
Abby quirked a brow. "Why?"
"You don't get caught up in the image of all this like the rest of them." Suzanne gestured around the plush offices. "They all love that they are so high powered. You play it down. And you're the only one who offers to get me some lunch when you go for yours, did you know that?"
Abby shook her head. It hadn't even occurred to her. "It's easy to get caught up in it. Working in finance at this level can become all consuming. I love the buzz, but I don't want it to be the be-all, you know." She winked and looked back at the shiny elevator doors. "I wonder if he rides a motorcycle."
Suzanne's eyes rounded. "You mean does he have a big throbbing engine between his legs?"
"Oh please." Abby shut her eyes for a moment, savoring the image that leapt to mind. She laughed and snatched up her lunch bag. "You are so bad."
Suzanne grinned as Abby set off down the corridor, gesticulating with the stuffed ciabatta, her curly blonde hair bouncing. "He wanted you, he'll be thinking about you while he's riding his big throbbing engine."
Abby couldn't help laughing.
Inside her office she propped the calling card against her monitor. Opening her takeout bag, she set her lunch down on her desk then stepped behind it and looked out the window. The view never failed to inspire her—the beautiful façade of the City of London—pristine glass towers that cloaked the interior mechanisms of power and wealth, toil and corruption. A tremor of excitement passed over her, part business, and part pleasure.
She sat down and glanced at the array of computer screens lined up on her desk, stabbing her fork at her chargrilled chicken salad. The words and figures flitted across the screen, unseen. She was as restless and alert as a prowling lioness during the mating season. The August heat always hit her this way and either some action or a cold shower was in order.
She picked up her coffee and blew across the swirling black liquid. It made her think about black satin sheets being rumpled across a bed. She smiled. She saw sex everywhere, but that was no revelation. It was everywhere, and besides she did think about it a lot, she wasn't about to deny that. Especially right then. She wanted to know what Wolf-smile looked like naked, preferably over her while they had hot, dirty sex.
She pushed the lunch debris away and crossed her legs high on the thigh—an attempt to crush the insistent pulse point that was pounding there, which didn't help—returning her attention to her work. She checked the latest FTSE index feed and the BBC 24-hour news channel. That was her anchor, even more so than the FTSE. Her tactic was to watch the news as closely as the FTSE index. Share prices were led by world events. She made many a quick maneuver, salvaging potential losses and earning quick, successive gains, on the basis of world events. As she scanned updating news, an instant message popped up on her laptop. It was from her teammate, Ed.
Ed: e-mail from Tom. What do you think?
Abby scanned her mail and saw the message. It announced an urgent team meeting the next morning to discuss project control. In the investment broker business imminent change was regular, expected and greeted with enthusiasm. They worked in a fast-paced environment, one that looked for winners to back and took no passengers for the ride to the prize.
Ab: And?
Ed: Rumor is I'm going over to the Pascal account.
Ab: You'd like that.
If he was right about the change it was something Ed had been working towards. A big meaty project, international. He and Abby had been functioning as a team for the past few months, taking up new projects, start-ups, and the management of established portfolios.
Ed: You are the obvious person to take over the Ashburn portfolio.
She nodded as she contemplated the thought. If he were right, it would be a good chance for her to flex her business muscles.
Ab: Maybe...
The door sprang open and Ed walked into the room. "I'd put money on it."
She smiled, glancing over his broad shoulders as he strode toward her. Ed had rowed for his team at college. She often imagined herself the Cox, shouting orders to them while watching their strong, supple bodies heaving over the oars.
He shook his head as he looked at her. "It's a miracle Tom Robertson's making any bloody money at all with a gorgeous woman like you on site."
She looked up at his brown eyes and neatly cropped hair. Ed was smart, sophisticated, and a real stud.
"Distracting a male member of the team is considered a criminal offence in some companies," he teased.
She lifted one eyebrow. "Are you keeping a list of my bad behavior?"
"You never know, I might need to blackmail you one day."
She chuckled. He was a charmer—the proverbial city-boy stud—pure testosterone, be it in
the office on the rugby pitch or between the sheets.
Was that what she wanted though? No, something darker, something...intimate and sexy. A secret affair with someone who didn't know about her job and the world that went with it. Her thoughts went back to the courier and a flame ran the length of her, from clit to throat, melting everywhere in between.
"You know, Abby, I'd give up all the other women I'm shagging, just for you."
She chuckled at his remark. It was familiar territory. He'd told her that if she ever wanted a good lay, he was there for her. They'd been sexually involved for a while, but nothing permanent came of it and they'd slipped back to being good friends. That meant a lot to her.
"I'm serious." He did look serious, but she didn't think of him that way.
"I thought you came in here to talk business."
He winked. "I did, but I do like to remind you what you're missing out on."
"I hadn't forgotten. I just value your friendship too much to risk it."
He nodded. "I know. If you change your mind, I'm here for you."
They chatted about the possible reshuffle but when he'd gone and she returned to her current market report, a doubt niggled at her. Some women would kill to get a man like Ed suggesting a proper relationship, but she loved him as a friend, no more. Was she too demanding of life—a life that was already full? She hoped not, she tried not to be, but she often doubted herself at moments like this. She had a great career in London, her own home, good friends. It was a wonderful life, but she craved something else. Mystery, something wild and dangerous. Something that challenged her in a different way. She'd give it all up—career, money, the lot—for that: a walk on the wild side.
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