Knight's Mistress
Page 60

 C.C. Gibbs

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‘Please do. Because this is my fantasy holiday.’
‘I prefer thinking of it as my getting-to-know-my-new-ADC-better holiday.’
She leaned over and put her finger over his mouth. ‘Stop. This is my fantasy. And put on your robe or we’re not going to get into the house.’
He quickly slid the black silk robe over his shoulders, closed it, tied the tie. ‘I’d prefer the house. But once inside, consider me at your disposal.’
She slid her dress off her shoulders and down her arms. ‘I like the sound of that,’ she said with a smile. ‘You obliging me.’
Dominic Knight hadn’t put himself at any woman’s disposal since his wife’s death. However, with his companion naked, inches away and as she implied, impatient, his thoughts weren’t on the past. ‘Inside, not here,’ he gruffly said. ‘Put on your robe.’ Miss Hart’s glowing nakedness was bringing his dick back to life. It always amazed him, how it was possible to conceal such abundance.
The ‘Set Fire to the Rain’ ring tone echoed from inside Kate’s messenger bag, shattering Dominic’s preoccupation with big tits and curvaceous hips. Prompting a visible tenseness in his companion.
Kate didn’t move.
He flicked a finger toward the bag. ‘Answer it.’
‘They can leave a message.’
‘It might be your grandmother,’ he said casually, his gaze, in contrast, vigilant. ‘You should answer it.’
‘Not now.’
The message ping went off.
‘I’d check that.’ Dominic pointed at the bag again. ‘Andy’s been calling a lot.’
She gave him a murderous look. ‘How the hell would you know?’
‘You should get a password.’
‘I have a fucking password.’
He shrugged. ‘You should get a better password.’
‘And you should get some scruples,’ she snapped.
‘I’ll think about it.’ Reaching past her, Dominic grabbed the bag from the seat, pulled out her iPhone, tapped an icon and glanced at the display. ‘Andy’s wondering how you like Hong Kong?’
‘What?’ She snatched the phone from Dominic’s hand, looked at the text, swore, then muttered, ‘How the hell does he know where I am?’
‘I repeat – you should get a better password.’ His smile was indulgent. ‘You of all people.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said with cutting sarcasm. ‘Are you saying this is my fault?’
‘All I’m saying,’ he replied with gentle forbearance, ‘is you shouldn’t leave yourself open to hacking. You can fix it. Now call him back. Tell him you’re busy.’
She softly exhaled. ‘I can’t. Andy wants to know about my job at Knight Enterprises, as you probably already know if you read the earlier texts. So I’m not calling him back. I don’t have anything to say other than that I’m banging the CEO and I’m not interested in broadcasting that to the world.’
Dominic smiled. ‘You’re wounding my ego. It can’t be that bad.’
‘Very humorous,’ she grumbled, moody and fretful, dropping back against the seat with a sigh. ‘You’re going to fuck up my life in more ways than one.’
‘We don’t have to worry about it right now, do we?’
She gave him a surly look from under her lashes. ‘Because you have a one-track mind.’
‘With you I do. I’m leaving a helluva lot of people hanging because of you. So we could debate who’s fucking up whom the most.’ He lightly touched her arm. ‘But I’d rather do that tomorrow or the next day or the day after that if it’s OK with you. Come see my house. You’ll like it.’
‘Just like that. Forget everything. Come in and play?’
He grinned. ‘It could work.’
She sighed, then frowned. ‘Damn you,’ she murmured sourly.
‘You don’t want to get in that line,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s fucking long.’
‘So you’re troublesome to lots of people, not just me.’
‘I’m afraid so. Which is why I find your company so irresistible. You make me forget all that – everything in fact … except …’
‘Fucking.’
He dipped his head, his blue-eyed gaze surprisingly open. ‘That answer rings all the bells, Miss Hart. You get the giant stuffed panda.’
‘As if I could say no,’ she said so softly, he had to strain to hear her.
But he heard. ‘Would you like me to carry you in?’
‘Like this?’ She flicked a finger down her nakedness.
He smiled. ‘That way or any way. We’re alone here.’
‘What about food? You don’t cook. And I certainly don’t.’
He laughed. Only Miss Hart would be concerned about food. ‘The kitchen is in a separate building.’
‘So we’re not alone.’
‘It’s some distance from the house. And I promise we’ll be alone. You won’t see a soul.’
‘Does the food get cold?’
‘You’re seriously bruising my ego, Miss Hart. I’m here to fuck you and you’re talking about food.’
‘Just curious.’
‘A tunnel runs between the kitchen and the house, the food is delivered in warming ovens, an electronic lift carries it upstairs; we pick it up without human contact.’