Filthy Rich Alpha - Virna DePaul Page 0,4

man stayed where he was, his hands deep in his pockets. “You weren’t enjoying the party?” His deep voice reverberated in the room.

Conversation, she reminded herself. The first step in meeting someone was to converse, not strip naked and jump their bones. She hesitated, then said, “Everything was beautiful.”

He smiled slightly. “You weren’t enjoying it,” he said decisively. His calm self-assurance was very different from the young men she worked with, although he didn’t look much older than they did. He was probably around thirty five. Just. But he had a tough, ruthless look about him as if he’d literally fought his way to the top of the world.

“I got a little overwhelmed by the crowd. What time is it?” Slowly, she moved the cashmere throw down her body, touching the buttons of her cream blouse (yes, Iris, cream; she just happened to love the color) first to make sure she wasn’t carelessly revealing herself. Every button was in place. It was her imagination working overtime that made it feel like they’d jumped loose and given him a glimpse of her lacy bra before she’d opened her eyes.

“After midnight.”

She rose from the sofa, straightening her rumpled clothes. “I have to go.” Somewhat awkwardly, she slipped a foot into one high heel, then the other, and stood tall. He was still a whole lot taller.

“You can stay for a bit if you like,” he offered. “The party’s winding down.”

“I guess this must be your house.”

He inclined his dark head in a nod.

“It’s spectacular. Really nice.” Cara told herself not to babble. “I’m sorry, we weren’t told who owned the place.”

“I’m Branden Duke.”

A regal name, but he was no Prince Charming. He was gorgeous but there was an edge to him that Prince Charming would never have. “Nice to meet you. I’m—” About to introduce herself, she stopped when she noticed the door behind him was closed.

He’d opened it, seen her sleeping, and had come in, closing it behind him. Why?

As if he picked up on the nervous question that buzzed in her mind, he turned and strode to the door, opening it again. But he came back.

Two things registered. First, she wasn’t being dismissed. Second, he wasn’t blocking her way, and that appeared to be deliberate on his part. He’d known she felt threatened and had immediately acted to reassure her. With actions, not words. In her world, that immediately set him apart from most.

She stepped toward him, fully intending to make a swift exit—and made the mistake of looking up. His dark, burning gaze hypnotized her for a moment longer. He raised a hand and ran his fingertips over her sleep-flushed cheek as if he couldn’t help himself.

Cara was mesmerized. The unexpected contact was tender and also erotic.

Tempting.

“Don’t.” She was barely able to breathe out the single word. She wasn’t angry or afraid—just wildly confused by his daring and her own crazy reaction. He dropped his hand.

“Okay,” he said softly.

Assured by his instant agreement but still frightened by the intensity of her attraction to him, she blurted out, “I really should be going—”

Cara stepped back, nearly falling when her leg connected with the low glass table. Branden reached out and held her arms, the strength in his large hands flowing into her somehow. She swallowed hard, reluctant to shrug him off.

Seconds passed. A minute. He didn’t release her. Instead, his soft grip slowly turned into caresses, with his hands smoothing over her arms and then up her neck until his hands lightly framed her jaw.

She still didn’t pull away. Her fear had vanished. For some reason, she trusted him, and all she wanted to do was give in and see what happened.

“I think you should stay,” he said softly.

Remember your promise, Iris’s voice whispered in her brain. Seize the opportunity to do something for yourself for once.

Cara lifted her chin, whether in defiance of her thoughts or of him, she didn’t know. “Do you?”

He smiled ever so slightly. Cocked a challenging brow. Stared at her with eyes filled with a taunting dare.

So what if we’re strangers, his gaze said. You want to kiss me. So why not kiss me?

She could think of so many reasons why not, foremost being that Branden Duke was a client of D&M. But she didn’t want to think. The memory of her promise to Iris… The fact that she wanted to kiss him more than she’d ever wanted to kiss a man in recent memory… The lingering dreaminess of being caught unawares and the intimate