Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,114
starlight.”
His white teeth glittered as he grinned. “You’re probably right—but then I’m sure you make a career of being right.”
He pushed away from the railing and moved toward her. “So do you concur with Michael, that the warmth of a woman’s body is what I need?” The words cut through the night.
Victoria swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Why hadn’t she just minded her own business? He wasn’t the kind of man to play with.
“If you don’t want to dance, what are you looking for? Are you here to offer yourself?” he murmured huskily. “It’s supposed to be one of the delights of being the best man, hooking up with the maid of honor. What fun.”
Victoria found nothing amusing in his biting tone. “No.” She backed up but, before she could retreat, his arms came around her and he lowered his head.
“Don’t—” she managed, and then his mouth ground down on hers.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Full of whiskey and force and anger, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Victoria struggled but his grip was tight, pinning her arms at her sides. He moved closer, his thighs thrusting against her softness, making it clear he was aroused.
God.
She fought herself free. “What the hell was that about?”
“I don’t like being manipulated.” He was breathing hard. “I don’t want a woman, understand?”
“You’re insane.” She resisted the urge to retort that he was fooling himself—he was desperate for a woman. For her.
“You’re saying you didn’t come out for exactly that? Conspiring with your friend, hoping to catch me on the rebound?”
“You are such a jerk.” She swung her back on him, determined to leave him out here alone.
He grabbed her and yanked her back. “Not nice.”
This time when his lips descended she knew what was coming—and tensed.
But it was different.
Soft, seductive. His tongue stroked the corners of her mouth until she parted her lips, granting him access. This time he kissed her with a dark desire that stirred wants that had never been woken. Dark, traitorous desires. And when his hands swept up over her arms, down her back, she edged closer, craving more—wishing he’d sweep her off to someplace private where they could spend hours together exploring naked skin and sweet sensations.
By the time he ended the kiss she was ready to do whatever he asked.
Connor North set her away from him with shaking hands. “Now, tell me that wasn’t what you wanted.”
She lifted a hand to her mouth, the fullness of her lips tingling. Damn Connor North. He must surely be aware of his effect on her. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she said, “Don’t try it again or I’ll slap you so hard it’ll leave marks on your face.”
He laughed. “Here—” he thrust a pristine, folded white handkerchief at her “—use this for that other dramatic gesture B-grade girls love. Wipe it across your mouth and make the necessary sounds of disgust.” His eyes glittered wildly in the half light.
Ignoring the shaky feeling inside, Victoria quirked one expressive, dark eyebrow. “Girls do that to you often?”
“No … but then the women I know don’t threaten to slap me, either.” His not-so-subtle emphasis of the word women caused color to flame in her face.
She balled the handkerchief in a fist, and he flinched as she raised it to his mouth.
“Stand still.” Her voice was tight. “Better I wipe my lipstick off your mouth.”
The curves of his mouth felt full and sensual under the fabric. “There, I’m done.”
Connor stared down at the red stain on the white cloth and his lips twisted. “You should have left your mark on my mouth.”
He raised his head and Victoria felt the force of his reckless attraction hit her like a surge of current. “Why would I want to do that?” She injected scorn into her voice.
He shrugged carelessly. “It would have given all the gossips something to talk about other than my scurrilous split from Dana.”
“I don’t want to be linked to you.” Victoria was appalled at the idea. “So we’re going to go back to the table and smile like crazy—for Suzy and Michael’s sake. But after today I intend to take great pains to keep as far away from you as possible.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’re hardly my type …” he paused, then added tauntingly “… Elizabeth.”
Victoria spun away and stalked inside and quite spoilt the moment by failing to remind him that her name was Victoria.
Three
August, present day, two years later
Late on Monday afternoon, Connor walked out of the morgue in the small