A Sweet Deal (Crimson Romance) (4 page)

“So you can look me in the eye and tell me that you have no hand in spreading this information?” His certainty faded as she sat beside him, her eyes sharp and devoid of deception.

She fixed him with a steady gaze, her almond-shaped deep brown eyes clear and unwavering. “Thank you for the drink, Mr. Morgan,” She added sarcastic emphasis on his name. “I think it’s time for me to say good night.” Yvette slid off the barstool and took a moment to steady herself on her stilettos.

Whether she was an expert actress or really hadn’t been spreading information about the buyout, he couldn’t afford to let her leave just yet. His father consulted him as a courtesy, one that could be revoked as easily as it had been extended. Sending Yvette away in anger could provoke her to push even harder for the deal, and he needed all the time he could buy.

He put a hand on her arm. “Wait. Please.”

She turned to face him, her expression challenging and exciting him despite himself. “Yes?”

He attempted a charming smile as he scrambled to find the right words. Knowing how it felt to have her slip from his grasp, he was determined to make amends. From what he could tell, she was far too savvy to be manipulated into setting aside her professional pursuits, but his mother had often said you’d catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. “I’ve offended you, and I’m very sorry, Yvette.” Was it his imagination, or did her lips twitch into a smile at the sound of her name? “I was clearly wrong about you, and I want to apologize. I’m so passionate about the business that obviously my emotions can get heated, and I’m sorry you were caught up in that. Allow me to redeem myself and show you that I’m much more enjoyable to be around than I’ve led you to believe. Would you join me at the tables? Please?” He tilted his head towards the craps tables and kept his eyes locked on hers.

Her shoulders dropped and her expression softened a bit. “I suppose a couple of games won’t hurt anything. You do owe me a pleasant evening, at least.” She took the arm he offered, and he led her through the crowd towards the craps table.

Conversations swirled around them, and the barrage of sights and sounds assaulted them. The simulated daylight inside the hotel made the charged energy between them seem surreal, almost like a dream. The thoughts going through his mind were definitely of the midnight variety. They found a table with room for them to join the game, and he guided Yvette to his side. It was time to regain control of himself and the situation.

• • •

The craps table was crowded with jubilant gamblers cheering and watching the dice bounce across the table. Yvette felt the charged energy of the crowd but was too rattled to pay much attention to the games.

He appeared willing enough to make amends, seemed to feel the same magnetic pull towards her that she felt for him, in fact. Against her better judgment, she wanted to let him win her over, to make up for what he’d said, to change her mind about him. She decided that she’d allow herself to relax as long as he continued to behave himself.

He raised an eyebrow, a roguish, tempting expression on his face. “What do you say? Want to play?” Why did she get the impression that he wasn’t only referring to the craps game?

“Sure, though I should warn you that I’ve never played before. Craps looks like so much fun, but it’s intimidating when you have no idea what’s going on.”

He snaked his hand around her waist and squeezed. “I’ll be gentle.” His arm around her was warm and inviting, and her misgivings faded a bit. They took their places at the table and he exchanged cash for a stack of casino chips. He gave her a handful and said, “Okay, just put the green chip over there on the pass line and we’ll be in the game.” He indicated a place on the table and she placed their bet. “The shooter is in the middle of a roll. He’s going to roll the dice and try to get the point number, which is nine. Don’t worry about trying to figure it out. You’ll pick it up as we go along.”

Despite herself, Yvette found that she enjoyed his gentle direction and friendly charm. There was no hint of the hostility that laced their earlier conversations. She wanted to hold back, to exercise a little caution before giving in to his advances, but it was hard. With considerable effort, she forced herself to focus on his words and not the sensual shape of his lips. The lips she would’ve tasted had the elevator not stopped.

The shooter rolled the dice and the crowd around the table watched them fly from one end of the table to the other before emitting a collective groan as the dice showed seven. She looked up at Richard. “Why is everybody disappointed?”

“He crapped out. He rolled a seven before rolling a nine, so basically, his turn is over and we’re up. Do you want to play?”

She shook her head. “Why don’t you play for both of us? I’ll just watch for now. If it’s possible, I’m even more confused than before.”

He took two dice from the handful offered by the stickman and held them to her lips. “Kiss them for luck.” She touched her lips to the dice in his hand and watched as he tossed them across the table. She didn’t know what numbers she was hoping for, but she held her breath as she waited to see what would come up. They bounced to a stop at the far end of the table and she saw a five and a six. The crowd went wild, jumping and cheering.

“Eleven. Everyone’s excited because it’s an automatic payout for them. They all make money when I roll a seven or eleven. Another kiss?” What she wanted was kiss from him, but she touched her lips to the dice and watched him fling them across the felt again. His throw yielded another eleven, and the crowd went wild cheering as they threw down more bets. She still didn’t completely understand it, but the enthusiasm was infectious. “That’s another payout for the crowd. I’m on a roll—you must be my lucky charm, Yvette.” He favored her with a sexy smile and a smoldering look.

Richard held the dice to her lips again and she gave them another kiss. He threw the dice across the table and the crowd watched until eight was revealed, a four and a four. Looking down at her, he slid an arm around her waist. “So eight is my point number. Now everyone will back up their bets and place extra bets in hopes of me hitting my point or any other number before rolling a seven.”

He held the dice out expectantly and she kissed them again, shaking her head at how such a successful and competent businessman could be superstitious. The dice bounced against the far edge with his toss and settled on a four and a six.

Richard flipped a black $100 chip onto the table and addressed the dealers. “The hard way. This one’s for the boys.” She gave him a curious look, and he explained. “It’s a tip for the dealers. They’ll know what to do with it. You really are bringing me luck tonight. What do you say we raise the stakes?” His breath was warm on her neck, his voice low and enticing. A delicious shiver skipped down her spine at his words.

“What do you have in mind?” She realized that her voice was breathy and ridiculous, but Richard had a potent effect on her. One so powerful she grew tired of resisting and wondered what would happen if she simply gave in to her attraction. What would it hurt, really?

He shot her a rakish grin and a thrill trembled through her, shooting straight through to her core. “If I roll an eight on my next turn, you spend the night with me.”

• • •

“Spend the night together? Wow, you don’t waste any time.”

She arched an eyebrow, but her cool reply was undermined by the sparkling amusement in her eyes. It’d been a gamble, but he never got anything he wanted in life by holding back. Removed from the buyout discussion, Yvette was exactly the kind of woman he wanted, beautiful and smart, savvy and ambitious. He’d never be able to stop thinking about their near kiss in the elevator, and unless he was wrong, she hadn’t stopped either.

“And if you don’t roll an eight?”

“That’s your choice.” He waited for her response, his eyes focused and intense. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll be on a plane heading back home. I don’t waste time, because I don’t have any to spare. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course.”

Richard held his breath as she tilted her head, considering. “All right.” It took all his willpower to let her finish her sentence instead of scooping her up and carrying her back to the suite. “If you don’t roll an eight, you’ll buy me dinner.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “That’s it? I throw out spending the night together, and all you ask for is a dinner? Seems like I may have overshot.”

“Yes, that’s it. After dinner, who knows where the night will lead?” He swallowed hard at the sultry tone of her voice. “First, though, I want you to agree to sit down to a meal with me, during which you will listen to me and carefully consider my proposition.”

“I almost expected you to ask me to consent to the acquisition outright. I’m surprised you didn’t throw the buyout in for the bet.”

She frowned. “Despite what you think of me, I don’t want you to hand me your company. Like I told you, I don’t enjoy taking what I didn’t earn.

“Fair enough. It appears that I may have underestimated you. So do we have a deal?”

Even considering taking Yvette to bed was reckless. He knew it, and yet had no desire to pull back on the agreement. He wanted her, whether it was a good idea or not. She’d managed to blur the lines between business and pleasure, and his determination to keep his distance from her felt very far away. If the dice fell in his favor, he’d worry about redefining their boundaries later.

“It’s a deal.”

He pulled her close, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and let his hand linger at her jaw, before turning his attention back to the game. Yvette kissed the dice that he proffered, and he tossed them across the table. This was it. Richard held his breath as he watched the dice bounce, head buzzing as the noisy crowd faded into the background. His stomach flipped when one four and then another came up. Another eight.

The hard way.

Yvette let him take her hand as they wound through the crowded casino towards the elevator, concentrating all her energy on not shaking in her stilettos. This was crazy, wasn’t it? She didn’t just glide up to a suite with a man she barely knew because he rolled some dice. It was crazy, but damned if she wasn’t going to do it.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Richard pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her lips. She opened her mouth to his, and their tongues tangled together as they explored and tasted each other. His mouth was cool, with only the faintest hint of the lime from his club soda, but warmed as their kiss deepened. Desire swirled within her, clouding her with an intoxicating sweetness that made her misgivings seem far away.

Spending a passionate night in bed with her corporate target might not be the savviest business move, but she would never overcome this insane attraction to him if she walked away. She’d obsess about him, wondering what might have been, imagining what she had missed. Perhaps giving in just this once would sate her desire and she’d be able to think clearly again. Then she could walk away without regret, couldn’t she? It didn’t have to affect the acquisition. Nothing had to change between them. She’d do her job, and he’d do his. Their night together would be little more than a memory once they returned to Philly.

Of course, they would have the memories, and she’d have to work even harder on the Morgan buyout to convince him that she hadn’t used sex to get what she wanted.

“What is it?” Richard must have seen the indecision on her face as she pulled away.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, considering how much to reveal. “This is moving really quickly, especially since just hours ago you actively disliked me. I have to ask myself if this is a good idea.” She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling exposed after her admission. It felt strange to admit misgivings after the passionate kiss they’d shared, but she had never been able to completely separate sex from emotion. She didn’t need him to be in love with her, but she wouldn’t be able to respect herself if she slept with someone who didn’t even like her.

He ran his fingers over her cheek, gazing down into her eyes. “When we met, I didn’t dislike you, I was only trying to distance myself to protect my company. I had no way of knowing that I’d be unable to keep my hands off of you. As it turns out, I actually like you very much.” He grinned. “You’re the first woman I’ve met in a long time who isn’t afraid to call me out when I sound like a soap opera villain. How could I resist?”

God, but he was sexy. A flush of attraction warmed her body, straight to her toes, and she took his hand, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles. “Well, when you put it that way … ” The elevator slowed to a stop on the floor for conference attendees. “I’ll get my things and meet you in your room.”

“The Charlemagne Suite.” His gaze was hungry and intense. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

The doors opened, and she stepped into the hallway on unsteady legs. His eyes never left hers as the doors closed behind her, promising a night she wouldn’t soon forget. She fumbled in her tiny beaded clutch for her key as she walked down the hallway. Stepping into the cool silence of her hotel room, Yvette closed the door behind her. If she was going to clear her head and make a rational decision, now would be the time. She flipped on the light, waiting for the realization that she was about to make a big mistake to hit her. Nothing.

She gathered her clothes and the personal items she would need and considered whether or not it would be smarter to stay put. Of course it would be smarter, who was she kidding? She could call the whole thing off right now, and probably should. As dangerous as spending a night in the arms of Richard Morgan would be, the thought of not going through with it was almost painful. Surely they could forget about business for one night, and simply be a man and a woman. Nothing more.

She rarely went to bed with a man she wasn’t in love with, much less one she wasn’t sure she even liked. The candy industry was a small one and Richard one of the larger players in it. He was a very public figure, and Yvette had read countless articles about him. She knew that he was thirty-two, that he had an Ivy League education, and that his mother had been in a fatal automobile accident around twenty years ago. His younger brother had been in the accident too, but had survived and now ran a successful record label in New York.