Behind the irritation and the determination was more than a hint of misery. And desperation.
He met her eyes and rubbed his hand over his chin. ‘I can’t back down, Millie.’
A part of her wanted to roll her eyes and sayOf course you can!but she knew he didn’t want to feel like Bertolo had an edge over him. Why? She didn’t know. He was a billionaire owner of a racing team, and Bertolo was a professional polo player. On the wealth and social hierarchy, Bertolo was a bug beneath his shoe.
But if she didn’t come up with a solution, she knew Taz would take the bet. So she needed to find one, and pronto. Guess she wasn’t only going to earn her million pounds by playing his adoring girlfriend.
She thought fast. ‘Be honest. Tell him you can’t risk any further injury to your hand, but when the cast comes off, after you win your fourth championship, you are fully prepared to take on his challenge. As a measure of your commitment, you’ll donate a half million to the charity now, and you’ll bet another half million. I could organise a charity polo day, he can choose a team, you can choose a team, and we’ll choose a charity, and your fans can bet on the outcome. You’ll both get credit and some good PR.’
He pondered her response before handing her a look saturated with approval. It felt like the warm, early morning sun on her face. How amazing would it be if he could look at her like that for the rest of her life?Oh, Millie, you’re in such deep trouble.
‘I can live with that.’ Taz nodded.
Millie released the breath she’d been holding. ‘What else can I expect from you? A fencer to challenge you to a sword fight, a swimmer suggesting you swim the English Channel? Is there anything you can’t do?’ she asked, as he stroked her cheek.
‘Apparently, I can’t get you back into my bed again.’
She remembered the hint of vulnerability in his eyes, the chink in his armour of arrogance. That smidgen of insecurity made him all the more attractive. It also made her feel more self-confident and braver. He’d told her, clearly, that whatever they did in bed had no connection to her work as his PR officer or as her acting as his girlfriend. She believed him. She couldn’t use either as an excuse.
Truth was, she didn’t want an excuse. Did she evenneedone? She was a consenting adult who was allowed to have some bedroom-based fun. The fizzy feelings Taz raised in her made her feel powerfully feminine and femininely powerful. When he looked at her likethat, all thoughts of being less-than and feeling insecure disappeared, and her self-doubt faded away. He made her braver…
And wasn’t being brave what she was trying to achieve?
‘I think that could be arranged,’ she whispered.
Taz smiled, and Millie knew she’d hopped from the frying pan into earth’s molten core. Sure, sleeping with him might be a mistake, but if it was, she’d own it. Because, for the first time, she was choosing to be with a man because of her burning attraction, and not because she felt lonely or needed reassurance.
And for her, right now, that was huge.
Hours later and back in his luxurious South Beach hotel suite, Taz was still curious as to why Millie had changed her mind. He’d tossed out the suggestion of taking her to bed more in hope than in expectation, and her agreement had surprised the hell out of him. And he was a man not easily surprised. His gaze drifted over her lush body, and he hardened instantly. He’d ask her later; right now he wanted to give his full attention to this sexy, stunning woman in his bed.
Millie’s skin was so soft, endlessly creamy and lightly fragranced. She was, possibly, the most feminine woman he’d ever met. Taz stroked the back of his knuckles from her neck to her stomach, and her eyes fluttered closed as her back arched to his touch.
She was so responsive, so into him and what he did, in a way few of his lovers had been before. Many had been track bunnies, more interested in bragging rights than sexual pleasure, and others hoped sex was a gateway to accessing his lifestyle. But Millie was fully and utterly present in the moment, lost in how he made her feel.
Her response brought an intensity to sex that had been missing for a long, long time. For far too long it had been a way to blow off steam, a form of escape. Sex with Millie was…more. Taz lowered his mouth to swirl his tongue around her nipple, smiling when her fingers tunnelled into his hair to hold his head to her breast. Surprisingly, Millie wasn’t afraid to show him who she was, what she liked and how she felt. He adored her honesty.
More than that, he liked that she was smart and sensible and, albeit temporarily, solidly in his corner. She’d been right earlier: Playing polo would’ve been a stupid move. Oh, he knew he could’ve won the bet—that would’ve been the easy part—but the public reaction would’ve been swift and brutal. No, as hard as it was to admit, Millie had made the right call and presented him with a solution that enabled him to walk away with his pride intact.
His father’s constant comparisons to Alex made him want to be the best at everything, all the time. In his head, he wasn’t only competing against Alex but against everyone else. That’s what happened when your father considered you as a spare part, as second best, as unimportant. As a teenager, he’d needed to be the best at everything in the vague hope that his father might notice and be impressed. He was better than Alex at every sport, but that didn’t matter to his dad. He wasn’t Alex.
And why was he thinking about his father when he had this sensational woman in his bed? She’d agreed to sleep with him and wanted to be with him, and he owed her the courtesy of his full attention. But if he allowed himself to deeply dive into her, if he didn’t keep some emotional guard-rails up, he might go too deep and not resurface. And if he did, he might come back less…
Detached? Unemotional? More connected?
Taz shook his head, frustrated at the thoughts leaking through his normally impenetrable shields.Cut it out, De Rossi. He looked at the tiny triangle of lace that could barely be considered underwear and ran his finger over the fabric, sliding between her legs. Her panties were already soaked, so he sat on his knees and pulled them down her hips, smiling when she lifted her butt cheek to allow him to push them down her legs. He tossed them over his shoulder, thinking that he needed to strip. Sex was more fun when both parties were naked.
But he could look at her for hours: She was pleasure personified. From her messy hair to her freckled chest and lust-soaked eyes, her flushed cheeks and rounded stomach and hips, she was all woman.
And for the moment, all his.
Millie picked up his hand and placed it between her thighs, and he was surprised and turned-on by her boldness. Her silent demand was unexpected. And hot. Was some of his sexual confidence rubbing off on her? He slid his finger over and around her, smiling when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Her fingers went to her breast, and she tugged her nipple, trying to maximise her pleasure. She was being selfish, wanting this moment to be about her and only her…
Good for her. He liked people who knew what they wanted and went for it.
‘That’s it, Millie. Keep touching yourself,’ he encouraged her, moving off the bed. Without undressing, he placed his hands under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, pushing her knees apart and revealing her, pink and swollen, to his gaze. So, so pretty.
He dropped to his knees and lowered his mouth to her. She arched off the bed, and he placed his hand on her stomach to pin her in place while he worked one finger, then another, into her heat.
