She smiled. “No. In fact, it’s been a tiring day for me. I think I’ll call it an early night and go back up to my room now,” she said.
“Alone?” he asked.
“Yes, alone. I’m recovering from a flu bug and don’t want to overdo it.”
“I understand, and I wouldn’t want you to overdo it either.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my business card. Call me when you get up in the morning. Maybe we can share breakfast.”
“Thanks, and I will give you a call,” she said, taking the card.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you back to your room?”
“Thanks for the offer but I’m positive. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Damien.”
And then she walked off, knowing he was still watching her. She knew he thought he had her within his scope, but he would soon discover that she was the one who had him in hers.
York stood in the shadows, behind the orchestra stand, and sipped his wine. He watched the man he’d identified earlier that day as Damien Felder, hitting on Darcy Owens of all people. And from the way the man was still looking at Darcy as she disappeared among the other partiers, he was definitely interested in her. That York could understand. Not only did she have striking features but the dress she was wearing showed a pair of gorgeous legs and a very curvy body.
“Damn.” He drew in a deep breath. The man’s interest in Darcy was the last thing York needed. Based on the report Wesley had given him earlier, Felder was the last person she should even be talking to. Even Malcolm and his group didn’t know half the stuff Damien Felder was involved in, but York didn’t plan on sharing any of it with them until he had concrete proof to back it up.
But first he needed to make sure Darcy stayed out of the picture. He had seen the moment Felder had slid his business card into the palm of her hand. Since York could read lips—something he taught himself to do after his sister was born deaf—he knew that Felder had invited her on set tomorrow. He wasn’t sure what her response had been since Felder had been the one facing him, while Darcy’s back had been to him.
The man had also tried inviting himself up to Darcy’s room, which she apparently turned down since she had left the party alone. At least York was grateful for that. He felt a deep pull in his stomach and tried convincing himself that the only reason he was grateful was because he was looking out for her. After all, she was Ellie’s best friend, so that was the least he could do. Wanting to keep her out of the picture had nothing to do with the jealousy he’d felt when he’d seen Felder approach her. He assured himself that it hadn’t been jealousy, just concern. Besides, too much was at stake with this case, and the last thing he needed was Darcy screwing things up.
He was about to leave when he noticed Felder giving the nod to another woman at the party. He recognized her immediately—Danielle Simone, the leading lady in the movie they were filming. Malcolm was pretty convinced that Danielle was not in any way a part of the black market ring. Now York wasn’t so sure when he watched as she walked toward the beach with Felder following her, keeping a careful distance.
Interesting. He couldn’t help wonder what that was about. Were the two having a secret affair? His cell phone rang, and he picked it up. It was one of his men who was attending the party undercover. “Yes, Mark, I picked up on the two. Follow them from here, and let me know where they go and what they do.”
He clicked off the phone, satisfied his man was on it and wouldn’t let the couple out of his sight. York then turned toward the part of the hotel where Darcy’s room was located.
Darcy had showered and slipped into the hotel’s complimentary bathrobe when she heard a knock on her hotel room door. She frowned, wondering who it could be. It was way past midnight, although she was sure a number of people were still at the party having a good time.
She crossed the room to look out the peephole in the door, and a frown settled around her mouth. York Ellis. Why on earth would he visit her room, and most importantly, how did he know her room number? She knew for certain that she had not given it to him.
Knowing he was the only person who could answer that question, she tightened the belt around her robe before taking off the lock and snatching open the door. “York, what on earth are you doing here, and how do you know my room number?”
“We need to talk.”
“What?” she asked as she nearly drowned in the dark eyes staring down at her. She’d always thought they were such a gorgeous pair—although she would never admit such a thing to him or anyone else for that matter. She wouldn’t even confess it to Ellie. Nor would she ever mention how heat would course through her body whenever he stood this close to her. She’d noticed it that first time they’d met, which was why she had deliberately avoided him. The last thing she had needed at the time was to be attracted to a man after what she’d gone through with her ex-husband.
“I said we need to talk, Darcy.”
She stiffened her spine and glared at him. “Why? And you haven’t answered my question. How did you get my room number?”
He leaned in the doorway, and her gaze watched his every movement at the same time her nostrils inhaled his manly scent. Her heart skipped a beat when her gaze roamed over him. He looked good in a tux. Had he attended the party when he’d said earlier that day that he wouldn’t be doing so?
“I have ways of finding out anything I want to know, Darcy.”
The deep huskiness of his voice had her gaze returning back to his. Even leaning in the doorway, he was towering over her. For some reason, her gaze shifted to his hands. This wasn’t the first time she had noticed just how large they were. Heat spread throughout her body when she recalled the theory about the size of a man’s hands and feet in comparison to another part of his anatomy. Automatically her gaze shifted to his feet.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
She snatched her gaze up to him. He had caught her checking him out again. “No, I was just thinking.” That wasn’t a total lie. He didn’t have to know what she was thinking about. “And as far as you having ways of finding out whatever you want to know … well, that’s probably true, but you won’t hold a single conversation with me unless you tell me what it’s about.”
He rubbed his hand down his face as if annoyed with her. “It’s about Damien Felder. You were flirting with him at the party tonight.”
They were flirting with each other, but his impression of how things had been meant nothing to her. “I thought you weren’t going to the party.”
“I changed my mind.”
“And you know Damien?”
He shook his head. “No, but I know of Damien, which is what I want to talk to you about.”
There was no denying that York had her curious. “Very well, come in.”
She took a step back, and he entered her hotel room and closed the door behind him. He glanced around the room, and when his gaze returned to her, it seemed the intensity in the depths of his eyes was pinning her in place.
She drew in a deep breath, refusing to get caught like a deer in the headlights where he was concerned. So she tightened the sash of her robe around her even more and broke eye contact with him and beckoned him to the sofa. “Have a seat and let’s talk.”
She watched him move to the sofa while heat spread throughout her body. He looked too darn comfortable for her liking. There was something about the way he was sitting, with his arms spread across the back of the sofa, that made her want to slide down on the sofa with him, ease the tux jacket off his shoulders and run her hands across the broad width of his chest.
Where on earth had those thoughts come from? This was York Ellis, the one man she didn’t get along with, the one man who seemed to enjoy rubbing her the wrong way whenever their paths crossed. “What about Damien?” she spoke up and asked, reminding herself the only reason he was sitting on her sofa was because she was interested in what he had to say.
For some reason, the mention of Damien made him lean closer, cause something akin to anger to flash across his features. “You met him tonight.”
She heard the censure in his tone and wondered the reason for it. “Yes, and why do you care?”
Evidently her question stumped him. The irritation in his face was replaced by a slow smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Personally, I don’t other than the fact that you’re screwing things up for me and my investigation.”
She bit down on her lips as she struggled to keep a civil tongue. “What investigation?”
As he sat back, York drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the anger that was flowing through him. And it was anger he could not explain. What she did and who she did it with was her business. He shouldn’t care one bit, and he had tried convincing himself that he didn’t. But the truth of the matter was that he did. There was no way he would allow her to blindly walk into a dangerous situation.
“I wasn’t absolutely up front with you earlier today when I gave my reason for being here on the island.”
“You weren’t?”
“No. I’m here on a job. My company was hired by a group of moviemakers for security detail on a movie being filmed, the same one Felder is associated with. And while my outfit is doing that, I’m working behind the scenes to protect their interest. Someone is slipping the movies to the black market before their theatrical release.”
She lifted a brow. “And what does that have to do with Damien Felder?”
It was hard to explain why a part of him wanted to kiss her and strangle her at the same time. What was there about her that could drive him to such extremes? “I have reason to believe Felder might be involved in some way.”
“Do you have any proof?”
“No.”
“Then it’s merely speculation on your part.”
“For now. But he is being watched, and if he is guilty, I would hate for your name to be linked to his.”
She glared at him. “And what if your suspicions are wrong? Do you expect me not to enjoy the company of a man because you think he might be involved in some case you’re investigating?”
“I was hoping that you would. And as far as me suspecting him, I’m almost sure he’s my man. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t.”
Darcy wondered just why he had. They weren’t friends, so his concern about her had nothing to do with it. He must have been truthful earlier when he’d said she had the potential of screwing things up for him.
She stood. “Okay, you’ve warned me. I’ll walk you to the door.”
He remained sitting. “And what the hell does that mean?” he asked.
The anger in his tone made her lift her chin. “It means just what I said, York. You’ve warned me. Now you can leave.”
“But you will take my advice.”
To Darcy, it sounded more like a direct order than a question. “No, I don’t plan to take your advice. Unless you have something more concrete than assumptions, I see no reason not to see Damien again. In fact, we’ve made plans for later today.”
He held her gaze, and she could see the fire in his eyes. He was so angry with her that he was almost baring his teeth. He slowly leaned forward in his seat, and in a tone of voice tinged with a growl, he asked, “Why are you being difficult?”
She curved her lips into a smile only because she knew it would get on his last nerve. “Because I want to.”
She knew she was being childish. Pretty darn petty, in fact, when for whatever his reason, he had come to warn her about Damien. She had no intentions of telling him that the warning was not needed since she wasn’t attracted to Damien and didn’t plan on seeing him again after their date that day. And the only reason she was keeping her date with him was because she’d always wanted to check out a movie set, nothing more. Even with Damien’s handsome looks, he hadn’t done anything for her.
And definitely not in the way the man sitting on her sofa was doing. Even now she was struggling, trying hard to fight the attraction, the magnetic pull, especially since it was an attraction she didn’t want or need. And it was an attraction she didn’t intend to go anywhere.
“You like rattling me, don’t you, Darcy?”
His words pulled her attention back to the present. She figured there was no need to lie. “Yes, I guess I do.”
Darcy didn’t think there could be anything sexy about a man who merely stood up from sitting on a sofa. But with York, watching his body in movement was enough to cause heat to flare in her center and the juncture of her thighs.
And when he slowly walked toward her, advancing on her like he was the hunter and she his prey, she merely stood her ground. She refused to back up or retreat. And it seemed he had no intentions of halting his approach until he came to a stop in front of her.
“I’ve heard of stubborn women before, but you have to be the stubbornest.”
She glared up at him. “I’ll take that as a compliment, York. Now if you don’t mind, it’s late and you need to leave.”
York thought some women had to be born for trouble, and this one standing in front of him was one of them. Against his better judgment, he had come here tonight to give her fair warning and he had done so. If she didn’t want to heed to his warnings, there was nothing he could do about it.
He tried to push the thought from his mind that while he’d been sitting on the sofa, whether she knew it or not, he had been fighting desire for her that had all but seeped into his bones. Why on earth would he be attracted to her of all women?
Before he’d come up to her room tonight, he’d been approached by a couple of women who’d all but invited him to their hotel room. One had brazenly offered to give him a blow job right there on the elevator. But he hadn’t wanted any of them. He wanted this one. This haughty looking female, who had blood firing through his veins, who was staring him down and standing in front of him looking as sexy as any woman had a right to look in a bathrobe.
He glared down at her when the room got too quiet for his taste. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t. Now goodbye, York.”
At that moment, something inside of him snapped. She was glaring at him, yet earlier tonight she’d been smiling at Damien Felder. Not only had she been smiling but she’d also flirted with the man. “You like pushing my buttons, don’t you, Darcy?”
“Yes,” she said smiling. “Gives me great pleasure.”
“No, this is pleasure.” And then he reached out, pulled her to him and captured her mouth with his.
Chapter 3
He was right, Darcy thought, when York began kissing her with a hunger that surprised her. This was pleasure. And it began overwhelming her as sensations tore through her. When she felt those big hands she’d checked out earlier tighten their hold on her, she became wrapped in his heat with every languorous stroke of his tongue. That was all it took for desire to start coiling deep in her body, thickening the blood rushing through her veins. And when she released a surprised gasp, he slid his tongue deeper inside her mouth.
He shifted, and his body pressed hard against her and she felt him—his aroused thickness. His hardness. It was poking her in the belly. A part of her wanted to push him away. But another part wanted to draw him even closer. She knew what part won when a moan flowed from deep within her throat. Instinctively, she eased up on tiptoes to return the kiss with the same demand and hunger he was putting into it. And when her tongue tried battling his for control, his arms tightened even more around her, almost crushing her body to his. Easing upward shifted his aroused part from her belly right to the juncture of her thighs, and immediately she could feel her panties get wet.
York’s heart was hammering hard in his chest. He didn’t understand why he was kissing Darcy this way, a woman he’d convinced himself that he didn’t even like. Evidently his personal feelings toward her had nothing to do with lust, and he was convinced that was what was filling his mind at that moment. That was what had him eating away at her mouth as if it was the last meal he would have. And she was kissing him back with just as much intensity. It seemed as if a floodgate had burst open, and they didn’t know how to stop the lusty water from rushing through.
They didn’t know or they didn’t want to know?
At that moment, it didn’t matter to him, and he had a feeling it didn’t matter to her either. He wanted her, and from the way she was kissing him back, she wanted him as well. And if she didn’t let up on his tongue he was certain he was going to lose his mind. He hadn’t made love to a woman in a while, and he couldn’t recall one being this passionate, this aggressive, this damn hot. He had initiated the kiss, but there was a big question as to who was being seduced.
Suddenly, he pulled back, reached out and ripped the bathrobe off her body. Just as he thought, she was completely naked underneath.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, inhaling a deep breath of air.
He glanced over at her while tearing off his own clothes, not believing she had to ask. But just in case she had any intentions of suddenly deciding she didn’t want this as much as he did, he stopped short of removing his slacks. Instead he reached out, pulled her to him and captured her mouth once more.
Darcy couldn’t help the moan that eased from deep in her throat. Had it really been two years since she’d felt sensations like this? Sure, there’d been Bruce, but York was showing her that when it came to hot sex between a man and woman, there was nothing like the real thing. A sex toy couldn’t compare.
She felt everything. The hardness of his erection was pressed against her center, the material of his tux was rubbing against her thigh causing all kinds of sensations to erupt within her. And when she felt those large hands of his stroke the soft skin of her backside, molding her cheeks closer to him, she couldn’t do anything but surrender. He had blazed a fire that was consuming them both.
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