The Revenge Game (The Player's Pact) Read online

  Okay, now he couldn’t pretend to ignore her. He set his rag on the Bentley’s hood and grasped her fingers…smearing polish all over them.

  “Sorry.” He jerked his hand back and grabbed the rag again.

  “I don’t mind.” She smiled and stuffed her fingers into the back pocket of her jeans. “What’s your name?”

  He hadn’t told her. Nice going, asshole. He cleared his throat. “Adam.”

  She shrugged. “I guess I can ask you to drive me if I have to go somewhere.”

  “I guess.” Hell, why did she have him so tied in knots? He’d dated lots of girls in college, some of them really pretty. But none of them had Nicole’s golden hair or dark green eyes. And her smile…it did weird shit to his insides.

  Someone dressed in a maid’s outfit showed up at the door. “Miss Westmore, your father is looking for you.”

  “In a minute,” Nicole called over her shoulder.

  “He said now,” the maid said.

  “All right, I’m coming.” Nicole gave him a sad smile. “I’ll see you again real soon.”

  “Yeah.” And then she was gone, as if she’d never been there. But his gut rumbled for hours.

  …

  Present day

  She was standing alone when Adam got there, staring out from the balcony over a rose garden and manicured lawns. She didn’t move as he approached, but her back stiffened. The connection between them hadn’t disappeared over time. The pull still existed, like a cord that could be stretched but not broken.

  He walked up beside her. “Don’t you want to see who’s approaching you? That person could be dangerous.”

  “Are you a threat to me?” She turned and looked up at him. He hadn’t misremembered the color of her eyes. They truly did resemble emeralds. That and her honey-colored hair were the first features he’d noticed about her, even before her luscious curves.

  “I’m not a threat to you, Nicole,” he said. Although she’d be plenty angry if she ever found out who’d bankrolled his first resort. The role of his silent partner, Vivian St. James, in his quest for vengeance had remained a secret for years now. Nicole had no way of finding out Vivian’s connection to him, and he intended to keep it that way.

  “Then why have you been avoiding me?” she asked.

  “I’m here now.”

  She glanced at his martini. “You’ve had a few of those, I gather.”

  “A couple. Want a sip?” He held the drink out toward her.

  She took it and brought it to her lips. If she’d hoped to seduce him with the action, she could hardly have done a better job. She let her mouth linger on the glass for a second or two longer than necessary and then handed the drink back to him. The imprint of her lipstick showed clearly on the rim.

  “I’m sorry about that smartass remark,” he said.

  “That I don’t have anything you want?” she asked. “Is it true?”

  Could she be reading his mind? Did she know he’d come out here to test the waters, to see if she still wanted him in her bed? Nicole might be passionate, but she never used to speak so candidly about sex.

  “You want Westmore Hotels,” she said.

  Oh, okay. “Your father’s company.”

  “It’s mine now. It’s my name, as well as his.”

  “So, the prince you were going to marry didn’t make you take his name?”

  “I never married Holst, as I’m sure you know.”

  “I guessed.”

  “Then why did you bring him up?”

  “I’m sorry. Let’s go back to square one before I have to make more apologies,” he said.

  “No apology necessary.”

  “Listen, I know we’re rivals in business,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we have to hate each other, right?”

  She nodded.

  A breeze blew up, but it wasn’t all that cold. They were in South Carolina, after all. But the day had turned into evening some time earlier, and night was approaching. Her dress wouldn’t give her much protection from the cool air, so he set his drink on the balustrade and removed his coat. When he slipped it over her shoulders, he could let his fingers skim the base of her neck, near the nape. The air hadn’t given her a chill, but his touch made her tremble. Not much. No one else would have noticed, but every indicator of her response still burned in his memory. She wasn’t any more immune to him than he was to her.

  “I still think about you,” he said.

  “And I about you. A first love isn’t something one’s likely to forget.”

  She’d lived in that huge house with no one but her father and his staff for company. And much of the time, even her father hadn’t been at home. She had no one else her age until he’d come along. He’d been a few years her senior and had much the same taste in music and movies. With him there, she’d had someone to talk to…until talk turned into something more.

  “The weather was so wonderful that summer,” she said.

  “You got too much sun, and your nose broke out in freckles.”

  “And you teased me about that.”

  “You have fair skin. Do you have freckles now?”

  She put her hand over her nose. “You’re being silly.”

  “You’re hiding something. Let me see.” He took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him.

  She didn’t pull away but let his fingers stay along her jaw. Her skin was so soft. That memory also came back to him in perfect clarity. Every part of her seemed as fragile as flower petals.

  Finally, his mind went back to the question at hand. “You do have freckles.”

  “A few. The makeup doesn’t cover them all.”

  “You don’t need makeup to be beautiful.” His voice had gone soft suddenly, as if being in her presence required him to speak in whispers. Or maybe this had become bedroom talk already. Nothing wrong with that.

  “First a cutting remark, and now you’re telling me I’m beautiful,” she said. “I don’t know what to think.”

  She still hadn’t moved away, although the little tremble was back. She’d given him permission to touch her face, so he ran his thumb over her chin, tipping her head up toward him.

  “Don’t think,” he said.

  “I can’t with you so close.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He inched his face toward hers, looking her in the eyes as he did. She could back away if she didn’t want him. She could tell him to stop. But instead, she closed her eyes and parted her lips.

  He accepted her invitation and kissed her. At first, it was a simple touching of mouths. If she truly wanted him, she’d respond. He wouldn’t impose himself on anyone, especially not Nicole. But if she was the woman he remembered, she’d want more.

  Sure enough, she stepped toward him and rested her hands on his sides. Tilting her face, she moved her lips against his. Sweetly. Almost shyly. But beneath that hesitation lay passion. He hadn’t forgotten. She was truly a woman who loved to give as well as take pleasure.

  Now he could kiss her the way he’d done before, the way he’d wanted to long after that summer. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. This was like coming home. Like finding water in the desert. A familiar stolen moment, when he could touch her body and let her explore his.

  In an instant, his sex hardened as blood rushed to it. The spark of lust that had never gone out now grew back into a flame. She must feel it, too, or she wouldn’t be pressing her softness against him. She knew she could turn him on in an instant, so she must realize where this was leading.

  Hardly knowing what he was doing, he backed her up against the wall of the building, under the eaves. In the gathering darkness, someone would have had to come onto the terrace to spot them. Then he kissed her again, this time pressing his body fully, urgently, against hers. She should have shoved him away—this was way more intimate than anything someone ought to be doing in public. But instead, she held his face between her palms and kissed him back, as if she needed his mouth on hers to bre
athe. Within seconds, the embrace went from hot and heavy to overwhelming need. Memories of making love with her in the backseat of her father’s limousine after he’d taken her “for a drive” resurfaced, as well as the excitement he’d felt from doing something stupid and reckless. He wasn’t that stupid any longer, but his ego needed to know she still responded to him. If he could locate a dark enough corner, he intended to find out.

  He raised his head and glanced around. Nearly blinded by lust, his brain had a hard time making out details. They stood near a corner of the building with the terrace wrapping around—they might find some privacy there.

  Taking her by the hand, he led her in that direction. She didn’t put up any objection. Just like the old days, she trusted him. She shouldn’t, really. He no longer had her best interests at heart, but he wouldn’t tease her and then leave her wanting, even if he didn’t take care of his own needs. With luck, that would come later.

  Around the corner, there was a little alcove between the brick wall of the building and an arbor with a climbing rose bush obscuring the view from below. Not totally private but good enough.

  He took her to the corner between the roses and the building and again pressed her against the wall. She’d need the support. Because if he hadn’t lost his touch, he was going to give her a mind-blowing orgasm. He had a condom in his wallet, but even he wasn’t animal enough to take her up against a wall. He’d suffer for this, but he’d deserve it.

  The perfume of the flowers was strong here. She’d inhale it while he stroked her sex. Kissing her again, he eased a hand under the hem of her dress and worked his fingers up between her thighs.

  “Are you…” she whispered.

  “Uh-huh. See if you can keep quiet.”

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  Her panties were wet when he touched them, and that fact gave him almost as much pride as owning his own company did. He found her most sensitive flesh easily through the thin fabric. When he touched it, she gasped and shuddered. Just as he thought—this wouldn’t take long. Then all he’d have to do was figure out how he was going to get back through the crowd with no one noticing his state of arousal.

  But he’d worry about that later. Right now, he had a woman to satisfy. He teased her with long, firm strokes all the way along the seam of her lips and back to her hot button. Her breathing became erratic—puffs from between her parted lips. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out her features, but the subtle movements of her hips told him she was close.

  Nothing in the world was sexier than a fully aroused woman, and no woman in the world was sexier than this one. When he finished this, she’d want more. The Nicole Westmore he’d been with before always did. As soon as they’d decided on the details, she’d have everything he could give her…multiple times if he could arrange it.

  “Oh my god,” she whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear it. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

  “Yes. Now.” He rubbed her harder and faster, never leaving that one sweet spot. When the cry rose in her throat, he covered her mouth with his. She stiffened, her hips jerking as she climaxed. Her sex released more moisture onto his fingers, testifying to the power of her release. Finally, she went limp against him, resting her head on his chest.

  For a moment, he simply held her while the sweet knowledge that she still wanted him warmed him from the inside. She might have decided to marry a prince, but she wanted him.

  Straightening, she opened her eyes. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  “I can.”

  “I always wondered,” she said. “If I saw you again…”

  “Some things never change.”

  “So it would seem.” She rested her hand over his heart. She ought to be able to feel the rapid beating against her palm. “I wonder… It’s been a long time.”

  “Not too long.”

  “No, not too long,” she repeated.

  “I’m staying at a hotel not far from here.” Although if they left together, he’d have to take the rental car and leave the other guys without a ride. They could call a cab.

  “Not a hotel,” she said. “It’s not private enough. My yacht is in the harbor.”

  “Of course.” Like her father, she wouldn’t stay in any hotel that wasn’t her own.

  “We’ll take my car.”

  He took her chin in his hand again. “You’re sure of this.”

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  Chapter Two

  Nicole’s heart beat like a hammer as she hung up the phone after speaking to the captain of her yacht, The Dreamer. Adam was in for quite a surprise when he woke up in the morning. The idea had come to her in the car. It was so devious, she’d smiled to herself the whole way to the harbor. She’d give Adam an unforgettable night of wild, earth-shattering sex, and the next morning, he’d discover they were out to sea.

  The spark between them hadn’t died. In a moment, all the years apart had disappeared. He’d hated her father, but he couldn’t hate her. If she had enough time to be with him, she could convince him to give up his attempts to ruin her company. They might never love each other again, but they could connect, person-to-person.

  One night, no matter how good the sex, couldn’t accomplish that. They had to talk, rediscover what they liked about each other. And she could show him how hard she’d worked to go from little rich girl to a competent business woman. She could win his respect. But she had to have days to accomplish that, not a few hours.

  In the meantime, he’d be angry. She’d deal with the fallout from that later. Right now, she intended to enjoy his lovemaking again.

  God, it had been so long. She’d been with a few men since then. She didn’t live under a rock, but none of her partners had satisfied her the way Adam had. She’d been so green back then—just out of high school—she hadn’t realized how amazing Adam could make sex. Not until she’d had other encounters to compare it with had she discovered what she’d lost.

  Just his touch had brought back the desire she’d thought had died but had simmered below the surface all this time. Normally, she never would have done something as rash as letting a man bring her to orgasm within shouting distance of a crowd. But, as usual, Adam could make her body do things she hadn’t dreamed possible. And now, she wanted more.

  She rose to check herself in the full-length mirror of the guest stateroom. The ruby color of her negligee made a stark contrast with her pale skin. She’d removed her makeup. He’d only smear it, and besides, he’d always said he loved the girl underneath the paint.

  He didn’t love her anymore. He couldn’t, or he wouldn’t have stayed away when their summer affair had ended. Somehow, he’d fallen out of love while her heart had remained broken all throughout the rest of that year, as well as the next summer, when he hadn’t come back for her as he’d promised.

  They’d spoken on the phone a few times, but those conversations had only made the separation worse. He’d been busy and hadn’t had time to get away to see her. He didn’t have a place for them to be together, so she had to wait, and wait. And wait some more. Finally, the message had penetrated. He wasn’t coming back. He didn’t want her after all—just one more abandonment.

  So, no, he didn’t love her, but he still wanted her, and she’d take that as a victory. Tonight, she’d enjoy the most magnificent lover she’d ever known, and tomorrow, he’d discover she’d swept him away to her newest resort—her plan to save Westmore Hotels. There, she’d convince him to drop his efforts to sink her company. Nothing could be sweeter than those two things.

  She left the guest stateroom and walked the narrow hallway to the main one at the stern of the yacht. When she opened the door, she found him facing away, gazing out over the harbor, a martini glass in his hand.

  …

  Ten years earlier

  God, he was cute. Nicole kept stealing glances at Adam in the rearview mirror as he drove her father’s huge, old car into the country. She couldn’t see his whole face from where she was sittin
g in the backseat, but when he met her gaze, his blue eyes twinkled.

  Crap, her heart was going triple-time. He might get ticked off when he found out what she’d planned, and then she’d just die. But they couldn’t keep pretending he was only an employee. He liked her. She could tell.

  “You can pull over here,” she said.

  He did, but he left the engine running. “There’s nothing here.”

  “But there is—my favorite tree.” She pointed toward a large live oak. She’d never seen it before, but one little lie wouldn’t hurt.

  “You have a favorite tree?”

  “I like to lie under it on warm afternoons.” She swallowed hard. “Would you come with me?”

  “Sure.” He turned off the engine, opened his door, and came around to help her out of the car. She didn’t need help, but when he offered his hand, she took it. She’d already tucked the blanket under her other arm. They walked together, not touching, but she could feel him next to her. When they reached the tree, she handed him the blanket, and he spread it out. Smiling at him, she lay down on her back.

  He had to read that invitation. He couldn’t miss it. For a week now, she’d been giving off every signal she could think of to tell him that she liked him and wanted to know him better. As a person. As a man. Finally, he sat down beside her.

  “Adam, do you like me?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Not that.” Oh, shit, shit, shit, she was going to die. “Do you like me?”

  He stretched out next to her and propped up on one elbow. “I do. A lot.”

  “Well, then?” If this didn’t work, she’d melt of embarrassment. She’d make him drive her back, and then she’d avoid him for the rest of the summer. But if it did…

  He bent over her, his lips only inches away from hers and a warm glow in his incredible blue eyes. His breath brushed over her cheek, and she could practically taste him.

  “I do. I really do.” Then, he kissed her, and her whole world tilted on its axis.

  …

  Present day

  Adam had removed his jacket, so Nicole could admire the strength of his shoulders beneath the dazzling white of his shirt. And his narrow hips and tight butt. It looked as good in his suit pants as it had in faded jeans, ten years earlier.