Game for Seduction
Page 11

Melissa McKnight was the hottest piece of ass he'd ever had. It was going to kill him to walk away from her lush curves and wild sensuality—even if it was the right thing to do.
Chapter Seven
An unfamiliar whirring sound woke Melissa up. Deep under a plush bedspread and sinfully soft sheets, she opened her eyes. All at once, everything came back to her. Dominic had brought her home from the bar. She'd seduced him and he'd pounced on her and made her every fantasy come to life.
The smell of fresh-ground coffee wafted into the bedroom. Her muscles ached as she stretched. If she had her way, she'd stay naked in Dominic's bed forever.
And he could have his way with her whenever he wanted.
His thrilling words bounced around in her head: You were made for me. It was something she'd always known, but she'd never expected him to feel the same way. Happiness flooded through her as she threw back the covers.
She opened the door to his walk-in closet and took a deep breath of his trademark scent—pine trees in summer sun. Taking a white button-down shirt off its hanger, she slipped it on and smiled. She couldn't wait to persuade him to let their coffee grow cold while they went back to bed and explored the daylight hours together.
Although, she thought with a grin, given the way he'd taken her again and again during the night, he wasn't going to need much persuasion.
She brushed her teeth with some toothpaste on one finger and finger combed her hair. Her makeup had worn off during the night, but every time she thought about their intense lovemaking she flushed and her eyes grew bright, so she figured she looked okay without it.
Naked except for his shirt, which hung to her knees, she walked down the hall to the kitchen.
Dominic's back was to her as she stood in the doorway admiring his beautiful physique. His slacks framed his tight butt and his well-pressed, tailored shirt made his shoulders look impossibly broad. Something about his outfit struck her as odd, though. Did he have an appointment this morning? She hoped he'd whip through his meeting and daily summertime workout and be back soon so they could get back to the good stuff.
"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit chirp ier than she'd planned. How was it that he still made her nervous, after everything they'd shared?
He slowly turned to face her, and her stomach knotted at his serious expression.
"Melissa." He said her name hard and low, like the pronouncement of a death sentence.
"The coffee smells good," she said, trying to act like nothing was wrong, like there wasn't an enormous white elephant in the room with them. "Where do you keep your mugs?"
He pointed to a cupboard above the dishwasher. She opened the cherrywood door and went on her toes to reach for a mug on the top shelf. His shirt rode up her thighs, showcasing the curves of her bottom, and she desperately hoped he was watching. That he'd remember what he'd done to her just a few hours ago, that he'd remember what he'd said about being meant for each other.
Closing the cupboard door, she turned and held out the mug. His hands were steady as he poured, and she worked to control her nerves as she blew steam off the top.
"I'm sorry," he said into the awkward silence. His simple words broke her heart. Obviously he regretted the passionate hours they'd shared. And now he had clearly steeled himself to do the right thing, to apologize for making love to her.
She wanted to cry, to scream that it wasn't fair. She'd thought she was finally going to see her dreams come true; instead, she'd been nothing but a mistake.
A huge mistake, judging by his grim expression. But the worst thing of all would be if he saw how much his rejection hurt her, so she forced herself to stare back into his dark eyes.
"There is nothing to be sorry about," she said in a surprisingly steady voice.
He looked at her with obvious relief, and she realized that he'd been bracing himself for tears. But she hadn't cried in front of her father, and she wasn't going to cry now.
"You were off-limits," he said, as if that should explain everything. "You still are."
Ten minutes ago she'd foolishly assumed they would start dating, that she'd be his girlfriend, just because he made her come three times in a row. But she'd known all along that it was just one night in heaven, hadn't she? She couldn't get all angry and hurt when he'd never promised her anything else.
"Last night was wonderful," she said honestly. "You're a marvelous lover, Dominic."
Dominic leaned against the black granite counter, only a twitching muscle in his temple betraying his discomfort. "I should never have—"
"I'm glad you did." She didn't want any regrets to spoil the magical night they'd shared. "I'm glad we did." She put down her coffee mug. "It's late. I should be heading into the office."
She walked into the living room to get her clothes. She needed to get out of here before she could give in to the hurt.
But Dominic wasn't making it easy on her. He followed her, a big dark presence in the doorway as she dressed.
"I'll make it up to you, Melissa. Just tell me how."
"Stop, please," she said. "We're two adults who wanted to have sex. Let's leave it at that."
But the weight of his remorse hung heavily in the room. "You want to be an agent. I'll be your first client."
His words cut into the armor she'd erected around her heart. He thought he was offering her what she wanted—her first superstar client. Yet she would have given that up a hundred times over if it meant being loved by Dominic every day and every night.
Anger finally burst to the surface. "I don't need any favors. I'm doing fine on my own," she lied.
"Your father won't promote you, will he?"
His question blindsided her. Her fingers stilled on her zipper.
"That's what last night at Barnum's was about," Dominic prodded. "That's why you got drunk. And came home with me." Mild disgust crossed his face. "I know how your father thinks, how he runs his business. He's honest and he's a hell of a negotiator. But he'll never hire a female agent." He paused. "Not even his own daughter."
Melissa swallowed hard. She hated that he'd already figured everything out. Didn't he see how unfair it was to dangle the ultimate carrot over her head, that even one client of Dominic's stature could set her up to attract other big clients and show her father that he was dead wrong about her being a cream puff?
She shook her head, willing the speeding train in her brain to stop before it crashed into a brick wall. She couldn't accept his offer, couldn't serve her pride up on a plate like that.