Ellie touched her lips. She could almost taste Clay’s mouth over hers, remember the exact scent of his expensive cologne. What if she knocked on his door and he invited her in? How would it feel if he made love to her? How would she feel the next day?
You’re a woman. You can do anything you want.
But she didn’t go next door. She didn’t go to sleep either. She tossed and turned and thought about Clay and knew if he took her to bed, she’d be glad.
At first light, feeling exhausted and out of sorts, Ellie got up, dressed in her riding clothes, and headed out the door. She stopped in the lobby, asked the desk clerk to call her a cab, then went outside to wait on the curb. She’d almost reached the street when a taxi pulled up at the curb in front of the hotel.
Clay opened the door and got out of the cab, swaying on his feet. Dressed in an expensive blue blazer that hung open and a little askew on his shoulders, his striped tie hanging like a noose around his neck, Clay reached down to help a tall brunette in a backless sundress out of the cab. A giggling blonde in a white leather mini slid out behind her.
Teetering on her high spiked heels, the blonde crossed the sidewalk and snuggled beneath Clay’s arm. Clutching an open bottle of champagne, his other arm draped across the brunette’s bare shoulders.
There was no place for Ellie to go, no way to avoid a confrontation. She lifted her chin, trying to ignore the anger and disappointment that bubbled inside her. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and the back of her neck.
I should be used to Clay’s indiscretions by now,she thought. But she wasn’t. How could she even consider sleeping with a man like Clay?
“Well,” he said as he approached, “if it isn’t little Ms. Untouchable. Only she isn’t really so untouchable, is she?” He tilted up the bottle of champagne and took a long pull. Some of the amber liquid trickled along his jaw. Strands of his thick brown hair slanted across his forehead. He needed a shave, but the night’s growth of beard only made him more attractive.
“How was dinner?” he asked, wiping the champagne away with the back of his hand and passing the bottle to the blonde. “As pleasant as lunch?”
Ellie didn’t answer, just walked past him.
He released the girls and rounded on her. “Wait a minute!” he called after her. She heard his heavy stride on the concrete behind her. Catching up with her easily, he grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him, his dark eyes mocking as they slid over the curves of her body.
“Why don’t you forget your damnable horses and have a little fun for a change? I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind if you joined the party.”
“Leave me alone, Clay.”
“What’s the matter? My friends aren’t good enough for you? Or is it just that you don’t like to share your men?”
“You’re drunk and obnoxious. Go back to your little playmates and leave me alone.”
“I’vebeenleaving you alone. That’s where I made my mistake. I should have come into your room like that bastard the other night. I have a feeling you’d have been a little more cooperative with me riding you instead of him.”
Ellie slapped Clay’s face. His eyes turned even darker, and he set his jaw. Ellie started to say the words on her tongue, but Clay pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was a hard kiss, demanding, almost punishing. Ellie didn’t fight him, just held her temper and remained passive, letting her arms dangle loosely at her sides.
Clay kept kissing her, but his anger had died. The kiss turned gentle, the hand at her waist sliding up to caress the nape of her neck. “Ellie...” he said softly, the word spoken with what sounded like longing.
With a sob of defeat, Ellie’s hands clutched the front of his coat and for an instant she kissed him back.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered against her ear. “I need you, Ellie.”
Ellie pulled away, fighting to ignore the yearning she heard in his voice. With a glance from Clay to the girls and back again, humiliated by her own behavior, she blinked back tears, but they spilled down her cheeks.
“How can you be so wonderful and so horrible at the same time?” Brushing away the wetness, she waved at the next cab pulling up to the curb and raced in that direction. Without looking back, she opened the door, climbed in, and instructed the driver to pull away.
Clay stared after the taxi until the car rounded the corner out of sight. Feeling suddenly sober, he turned back to the girls, who were giggling, drinking from the bottle of champagne and apparently oblivious to what had just happened. He pulled his alligator wallet from the breast pocket of his blazer and took out several crisp hundred-guilder notes.
“Here.” He handed each girl a wad of money. “Go into the lobby and have the desk clerk call you a cab.”
“Niets meer?” the brunette asked, her eyes big in her porcelain-like face.
“English,” Clay reminded her.
“I thought we were going to—“
“No. Goodnight,” he said, though by now it was morning. Clay handed the keys to the valet and left the women standing on the curb.
“Goedenacht,” the blonde called after him with a wave.
