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Knight's Mistress

Page 31

   


The mattress was soft as down, the sheets some outrageous thread count and smooth as silk, the pile of pillows a minor distraction until she tossed all but one on the floor and curled up under the wisteria-coloured king-sized quilt covering the king-sized bed. If someone was watching – and no doubt someone was – they would have marvelled at how quickly she moved from wakefulness to sleep.
Five seconds. Dominic smiled, dropped his watch hand and gently shut the door to the suite next door. Had he been a prideful man, her indifference would have been humbling. As it was, it left him with plenty of time to decide what he wanted to do. Or more precisely, how he wanted to do it.
With Miss Hart sleeping, he took the opportunity to check his email because urgent mail was a constant in his life. Someone, somewhere, always needed an answer. An hour later, the most pressing messages had been addressed, and stripping off his clothes, he put on a T-shirt and pyjama pants. Moving through the silent corridors, he walked into the bar, filled a glass with ice and poured himself a rye. Alone in the room that boasted one of the best views in the world, he slowly drank his rye and contemplated the dazzling splendour of Hong Kong, all blazing neon and sparkling lights against the darkness.
Unfortunately, the splendid view took second place to his thoughts. Miss Hart had looked exactly as he’d pictured her in his imagination. Slender, lithesome, great tits and legs that went on for ever. Her skin had been unusually pale in the moonlit room – the word ‘immaculate’ had suddenly taken on a presence. Along with all the perverse connotations having to do with that notion. As if purity itself was a challenge. Christ, he needed a little restraint here. Miss Hart wasn’t bought and paid for. It had been a long time since he’d approached a woman who wasn’t aware of her role and function. He’d have to make sure he didn’t scare the hell out of Miss Hart. With that stricture in mind, he poured himself another rye and enjoyed the view and a rare moment of solitude.
After he finished the drink, he reached over the bar and set the glass in the sink. He might have staff and employees in almost constant attendance but he was capable of taking care of himself. In fact, there were times he preferred it.
Like now.
Sliding from the barstool, he stood motionless.
This occasion felt very different and it wasn’t just because there was no money involved. On the other hand, he’d never once seriously questioned his intentions towards Miss Hart. Or at least not since Amsterdam. So …
He slipped the key card from his pocket.
A half-hour later, Kate rolled over, squinted against the moonlight for a second, then suddenly sat bolt upright. ‘How the hell did you get in here?’ she gasped. She suddenly felt vulnerable alone in this hotel room with a man who had no limits, was accountable to no one, who bought anyone and anything without constraint.
Dominic reached out, picked up the key card from a nearby table, raised it slightly and tipped it in the direction of an adjoining door. ‘These suites all run together.’
‘I suppose you’re next door,’ she said tartly, taking the offensive. Never show fear, Gramps had always said. It takes away your advantage. ‘I should have known.’
She was perfectly comfortable sitting nude before him. It gave him momentary pause. He would have expected a quick covering up. On the other hand, Miss Hart’s sumptuous breasts gilded by moonlight made it easy to dismiss his reservations. ‘Actually, I’m three suites away.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Although, not at the moment.’
‘No kidding. Do you want something?’
‘Not necessarily. I couldn’t sleep.’
‘So you decided to be a voyeur.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I decided.’ As he’d watched her sleeping, he’d begun to wonder if he was doing the right thing again. Which was why he hadn’t wakened her.
‘Why don’t I tell you.’
His brows rose.
‘You’re not reinventing the wheel, Mr Knight.’
‘Dominic.’
‘Mr Knight,’ she coolly repeated. ‘Look, you’re a big-time plutocrat. I’m a nobody. You’ve been thinking you might fuck me before I leave, then send me on my way. You’ve apparently decided. And here you are.’
‘So you’ve been in this situation before?’
‘Answer me. Am I right?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. Now you answer.’
‘You’re the first big wheel to invade my bedroom. How’s that?’
‘What about some other room? Have you done it with some big shot in some other room? Your professors, maybe?’
‘Jesus, are you my guardian?’
‘I could be.’
‘No you couldn’t,’ she hissed. ‘You don’t have enough money.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Let me rephrase that. You don’t have enough money to be my guardian or warder or whatever the fuck turns you on.’
‘Do I have enough for one night of your time?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ Cool, impudent, assured.
‘Definitely no,’ she said, oversweet and smiling. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she bitchily added. Arrogant prick. She was feeling more assured. Unless he was going to physically force himself on her, and he didn’t seem to fit that role lounging in his chair, conversing with her in that unheated tone, she was safe.
His dark brows settled into a frown. ‘Yet you don’t mind sitting there like that.’ He flicked a finger at her nude torso.