For a brief moment Lucille actually felt sorry for him, till she remembered that he was a bastard too, especially with women.
So this time he’d lost out with Flame, a potential bedmate. Tough! It wasn’t as though he’d been genuinely in love with the girl. Playboys like Val Seymour were only in love with themselves!
He straightened abruptly and turned to face her, his eyes still tormented.
Amazing how devastatingly attractive he looked, despite his emotional ravagement. The dark circles under his eyes suited his designer stubble and added to his bad-boy image.
‘Are you going to put me out of my misery by coming to dinner with me tonight, Lucille?’ he demanded to know. ‘Or are you going to condemn me to eternal depression?’
‘How will a date with me put you out of your misery?’ she challenged, as if she didn’t know. A conquest a day keeps depression at bay!
‘It just will,’ he said firmly. ‘I promise to be a gentleman, if that’s what’s worrying you. Just dinner and conversation. Nothing else.’
Lucille frowned. He actually sounded sincere. Who knew? Maybe he meant the ‘just dinner’ part. Maybe he simply wanted the distraction of company. Maybe he had been in love with that Flame female and was genuinely upset.
Lucille was startled to find she didn’t like that last thought. Perhaps because underneath she wanted him to want her as she wanted him. Oh, yes, there was no point in denying it, not to herself. She wanted him. Wanted him naked, wanted him in bed, wanted him right now, or at the very latest…tonight.
Any shock—or self-disgust—at this starkly explicit realisation was eventually overlaid by an angrily defensive train of thought. Why shouldn’t she want him? And why shouldn’t she have him, at least once? Now that her female hormones were up and running again, she’d be stupid not to take advantage of this situation. Erica was right. Who better to have sex with than a man who specialised in the practice?
It wasn’t as though Val would be hurt by her going to bed with him. Hell, he’d probably be grateful.
A decidedly erotic quiver ran down her spine at the thought. Despite his promise of gentlemanly behaviour, Lucille knew that a virile man like Val didn’t stand a chance of staying virtuous if she pulled out all the stops, then didn’t say no when he took the bait.
‘All right,’ she said, amazed that she could sound so calm in the face of such wicked plottings. ‘I wouldn’t want to be responsible for plunging you into eternal depression.’
‘Fantastic,’ he said, finding an instant smile.
Lucille smiled back. I’ve gone mad, she decided. Stark raving mad.
Whatever was Michele going to say?
Nothing, the devil’s voice whispered in Lucille’s head. Because you’re not going to tell her. Tonight is going to be your dark little secret. Your deep, dark little secret.
CHAPTER FOUR
HER phone rang at ten to eight, just as she was doing some last-minute frantic primping.
‘What a time for someone to ring,’ Lucille muttered as she hurried from her bedroom to the living-room.
Not that she hadn’t already had three hours to get ready since arriving home at five. But three hours simply weren’t enough for this kind of date. There was so much to be done. So much to be worried over, and to change her mind over. Not the least of which was what one should wear to seduce a man who’d been seduced by the best of them.
In the end she’d gone for broke, in a dress which would have revived an octogenarian on life support. It was part of the wardrobe she’d splurged on after her divorce had come through but never worn. Emerald chiffon with a low-cut V neckline, sheer tight sleeves and a softly layered skirt which fell to mid-calf, leaving her slender ankles and sexily shod feet in full view. Her cleavage was deep and her hair up in a fashionably dishevelled style, with tendrils falling all round her neck.
Lucille swept the receiver up to her ear, clinking with one of the crystal drop earrings she’d just hooked into her lobes.
‘Yes?’ she said sharply down the line.
‘It’s Val. I’m stuck in a traffic snarl on the bridge. I’m going to be late getting to your place.’
Hearing his voice brought home exactly what she was doing. This wasn’t some wild sexual fantasy she was about to embark on. This was a real man she was planning to seduce. And she was a real woman. A woman who hadn’t made love in so long she’d probably forgotten how!
Lucille’s stomach crunched down hard, then churned. She couldn’t go through with this. She simply couldn’t. What had she been thinking of? Aside from any other consideration, the man was a playboy, for pity’s sake. Maybe he would know all the right moves in bed, as Erica had pointed out. But her pride simply wouldn’t allow herself to let such a man think she was nothing but an easy lay.
Which he would.
‘Lucille?’ he prompted.
‘Yes, I’m here,’ she said stiffly. At least she would have time to change again, into something less provocative.
‘Sorry about this,’ he said.
‘It can’t be helped. You needn’t have worried. Or called.’
‘I didn’t want you to think I was deliberately keeping you waiting, or that I was an arrogant creep with no respect for time or women.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that,’ she bit out, though she probably would have.
‘You sound a little upset.’
‘Not at all. I’m just not ready yet.’
His laugh was low and incredibly sexy, reminding Lucille of why she’d been brought to this.
‘Now I understand,’ he said. ‘I sometimes forget it takes women for ever to get dressed. Off you go, then, because I want you ready and waiting when I arrive. I’m literally starving.’
She bristled. ‘I thought you said you always ate late.’
‘I seem to have forgotten to eat today, and the cupboards in my new apartment were bare, except for coffee and tea.’
‘Oh, dear. I should have seen to that.’
‘That’s what Erica said when I called to thank her for everything. But don’t fret. I soothed her concerns by saying I was going out for dinner tonight and you’d promised to attend to the matter first thing in the morning.’
Lucille’s heart missed a beat. ‘You didn’t tell her you were taking me out to dinner, did you?’
‘No…’
‘Thank God.’
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why didn’t you want me to tell her?’
Lucille didn’t know what to say.
‘I have an awful feeling,’ Val went on drily, after an embarrassing stretch of silence, ‘that your reluctance to answer has something to do with your poor opinion of my character.’
Lucille didn’t deny it.
‘Mmm. We will explore this subject more in depth over dinner, when you can’t get away with going silent on me. Ah, the traffic’s moving. I might not be too long after all. Better shake a leg, Lucille, or you’ll be going to dinner in whatever you have on at the moment. Dare I hope it’s your birthday suit?’
She did end up going