I shoot her a salacious wink. ‘I actually preferred you without the dress.’
Her icy laughter slashes through the humid air like a freshly sharpened knife. I deliberately didn’t put a t-shirt on, and her eyes are once again drawn to my body. A body that I work ridiculously hard for. Physical pain leaves less time for overthinking. It’s why I spend a lot of time in my home gym.
It’s also an effective way of avoiding my new house guest, Lula. I had no idea what I was signing up for. Still, I promised I’d help and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
‘It’s not for your benefit.’ Chloe’s hands skim over her curves in a deliberate tease. Our eyes lock in an explosive, invisible short-circuit before she announces, ‘I actually have a date.’
She stalks across the lounge and out to the pool. I follow her and dive back in, hoping the chlorine will wash away my irritation. When I emerge at her feet, I have a clear view of hot pink beneath the satin. The thought of another man getting to unwrap that perfect package blasts a hit of heat through my blood.
‘A date, huh? And when were you planning on doing some work exactly? In case you’ve forgotten, you have the biggest gig of your life to organise.’
That at least incites a hard swallow alongside her oh-so-familiar glare.
‘Tomorrow. You’re in my diary for nine o’clock sharp. Stupidly, I thought you might be swanning round some fancy hotel, living it up. I didn’t realise you intended on spending the entire four days of your trip with me swinging from your coattails.’
In one swift leap, I’m out of the pool and close enough to inhale her deliciously exotic perfume. ‘Oh, Chloe, if I had my way, you’d be spending the entire four days of my trip swinging from the chandeliers. And you’d luxuriate in every single second of it.’
‘Promises, promises…’ She rolls her eyes dramatically skywards.
Before I can think of a suitable reply, the doorbell chimes. Chloe turns on her stilettos, waving her fingers in a patronising farewell. ‘Naveesha left a lasagne in the fridge. Don’t wait up.’
She loiters in the patio doorway long enough for me to wonder if she’s changed her mind. ‘Oh, and I hope you’ve got earplugs.’ Her painted lips part into a wicked grin. ‘I’m a screamer when I get going.’ She winks and shakes her sensual hips.
ChapterFive
CHLOE
Tuesday is Ladies’ Night in Dubai. It drives men out in force like a pack of starving animals hunting for prey.
Ruby and I dwell at one of our usual haunts, an exclusive bar called Tonic, near the Burj Khalifa. During the day, it offers breathtaking views of the city. At night, it offers a different perspective on the country entirely.
The opulent décor is otherworldly. Black granite lines the floors. Exquisite chandeliers shed soft light on the patrons enjoying themselves below, and an addictive bass sets my toe tapping in time to the rhythm. With two potent cocktails lining my otherwise empty stomach, a fuzzy buzz slowly diffuses the tension of the day.
Ruby perches across from me talking to Brad, her on/off American investment banker boyfriend of a year, while I’m surrounded by half the English soccer team. I don’t follow the Premiership, but I gather I’m supposed to be impressed by their celebrity status.
Obviously I’m not, given my sister’s engaged to one of the world’s most famous stars.
To my left, the captain of the team flanks me. He’s a tall, broad-shouldered blond with bright piercing eyes. His cedarwood aftershave envelops me. It’s nice. Not knicker-droppingly nice like the intoxicating, masculine scent that’s currently, and unwelcomingly, wafting through every room in my house right now.
To my right sits the team’s tipsy, opportunistic striker.
Initially, their attention is flattering, but fumbling hands repeatedly wander further than I’m comfortable with. It’s time I extract myself.
‘I’m going to the bar.’ I turn to the captain, Carl, I think he said his name was. His thick toned thigh is pressed closely against mine.
‘Sit down. I’ll ask one of the boys to get the drinks.’ A firm hand presses on my thigh, preventing me from standing as his lips twist into a devilish smirk.
Quintessentially, he’s my type. Good-looking and unavailable for anything long-lasting, but I’m getting a weird vibe from him. From both of them, actually.
I try to catch Ruby’s attention across the table, but she seems to be engaged in a heated discussion with her boyfriend, Brad.
‘Order some shots, then we can take Clara for some real fun.’ The striker leans across me, wedging me tighter between the two of them, as he grabs his crotch.
I bite back my snort. Neither of them are scoring here.
Infuriatingly, the only person I’m fantasising about tonight is my vexatious, but sexy, house guest, Jayden. Two cocktails in and I can’t shake the image of his shirtless body. The perfectly sculpted planes of his ripped torso. The way they angled into a delicious V above the waistband of his swimming shorts.
Even with all his trashy one-liners, his stare provokes a heated promise within my core.
