Her attempts to cover herself had pushed her cleavage higher above the surface of the water, and he was having trouble tearing his eyes away so that he could look at her face when she talked. He’d seen plenty of naked women—plenty of beautiful, naked women. Why should this one be special? She shouldn’t be. But she was.
“Fine, I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
As soon as he left the room, Elaine scrabbled out of the tub. She wrapped a towel around herself and cautiously peeked into her room. After she’d verified that a certain arrogant, pain-in-the-butt hunk wasn’t in there she set about looking for something more substantial than the towel that was currently the only thing separating her from total exposure.
Privacy? Ha! They were apparently using different dictionaries.
She opened the closet for the first time, and almost choked on her tongue. There wasn’t a black or navy blue suit in sight. The closet was filled with clothes that she was certain bore designer labels, and every last one of them was as far removed from her general uniform as possible. This whole arrangement just got better and better. He was still playing dress-up with her.
She rifled through the clothes. Cashmeres, silks and cottons. Reds, golds and blues. The small girlish part of her that generally lay dormant was delighted by the selection. It was like shopping in her own home.
It’s like being bought.
And she wasn’t going to accept that. But she wasn’t going out to talk to him in a towel either.
She heard Marco pacing the hardwood floor in the living room. She fingered a beautiful silk dress that hung on one of the hangers. It bothered her immensely that she was thinking about wearing it, thinking about what Marco’s reaction might be to it.
She shoved the dress and the clothes next to it aside fiercely, banishing the thought of Marco’s touch burning her through thin silk.
Everything in the closet was extremely feminine, and extremely flimsy. She selected a dress made of a stretch cotton, by far the sturdiest piece of clothing available, and folded it over her arm as she went to look in the dresser for underwear. It wasn’t a big surprise that the same man who’d most likely hidden her sensible wardrobe approved of her lingerie.
Her face heated at the thought of his hands on her lacy bras and panties. It seemed so intimate, so unbearably sensual. She picked a pair of red underwear and a matching lace bra. She let her fingers glide over the material. Had Marco touched them like this? Imagined her wearing them? She clenched her thighs together to try and quell the rapid pulse that was beating at their apex. Her nipples beaded shamelessly against the rough terrycloth of the towel that was still wrapped tightly around her.
Elaine put a fierce stop to her runaway imagination. She put the offending underwear on hurriedly, before slipping the wrap dress on and tying the sash around her waist as tightly as possible. The neckline dipped low, and she was tempted to look for a safety pin to bring the edges of the v-neck together.
“Elaine?” Marco’s rich voice floated down the hall and she hurriedly left the room. The prospect of him coming into her bedroom was a bit more than her abnormally alert hormones could bear.
Marco turned when he heard Elaine enter the room. He’d hoped that he would have managed to get his rampaging lust under control by the time his new wife had dressed and come out to meet him. And he might have, had she not appeared in the living room looking like every man’s fantasy.
The red wrap dress was held onto her luscious body with a bow, making her look like a present that had been wrapped up just for him. A present he wanted very much to unwrap.
His fingers itched to pull the end of the bow and reveal the pearly skin that lay beneath the dress. He ached to see each gorgeous inch of her delectable body laid bare before his eyes, to touch her silken skin, to taste the hollow beneath her throat.
The seam on his pants bit into his growing erection and he shifted, trying to disguise his reaction to her.
“So, now that I’m decent, you were saying…?” She sat on the couch. Her breasts moved with her, their gentle bounce drawing his attention. If she was wearing a bra it was a flimsy lingerie piece, meant to showcase a woman’s breasts rather than conceal anything. He could see the perky outline of her nipples through the thin cotton. Would they be pale and pink like the rest of her? He gritted his teeth. She had to be doing this on purpose. No one could look that provocative by accident.
She was even better than he’d given her credit for. The guise of straitlaced businesswoman had put him at ease, but she was slowly dropping the charade and showing glimpses of the real Elaine. She had acted embarrassed when he’d walked in on her during her bath, but he sincerely doubted that a woman so seductive would be put off by something like that.
She’d done a wonderful job concealing the provocative, sexual part of her nature. Despite her reputation she’d nearly managed to convince him that she was an uptight prude. He could see now what a good little actress she was.
The woman sitting in front of him was a woman who knew the effect she had on men. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, giving her the look of a woman who had recently indulged in hedonistic passions. There was simply no way she could be unaware of the sheer sex appeal that she exuded.
It might be fun to play her game, to take what she was offering for a while, as long as they were both sharing the same home. It was definitely tempting. He knew she had an agenda, but it was of little concern to him. He would be more than able to enjoy her physically and not get snared in her trap.
Later, when the deal with James Preston was ironed out, he would consider taking her up on the offer to use her delectable body.
He cleared his throat and sat in the chair opposite her. He looked to Elaine as if he was readying for a board meeting. Still, looking as formidable as he did, he was the sexiest man she had ever seen.
“What did you do with my clothes?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked.
“They’re still in a box somewhere,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.
“You didn’t think you should consult me before giving my wardrobe a complete overhaul?”
“It needed one. You can trust me on that.”
“I don’t relish feeling like you’re buying me.”
He chuckled. “But that’s basically what I’ve done. I’m paying you with Chapman Electronics to be my wife. And if you’re going to be playing the part of Mrs. De Luca you need to look the part. Actors are provided with costumes. If it makes you feel better, then look at it that way.”
She opened her mouth as if she was going to offer up one of her tart one-liners, then closed it again as if she’d thought better of it.
“You already know that I’ve been eyeing one of James Preston’s resort properties in Hawaii, and that he’s reluctant to sell to me because of my reputation?”
“Yes, I remember. The Hanalei Bay Resort.”
James Preston was a legendary hotelier. His resort property on the island of Kauai was the “it” spot for corporate retreats, celebrity weddings, and romantic getaways for the über-wealthy.
He gave her a wry smile. “That’s the one.”
“Is he still unsure about you?”
“He’s getting there, but he wants to meet with me personally before he agrees to anything.”
“Naturally.”
He nodded. “And of course I’ll need to do a thorough sweep of the property before I make a final decision.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“We shouldn’t be gone for more than a couple weeks.”
“We?”
“Yes.