One Wild Night With Her Enemy by Heidi Rice

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘YOULOOKSPECTACULAR,cher.’ Luke’s arms wrapped around Cassie’s waist as he drew her into his embrace. ‘It’s a good thing this gown gives you a lot more coverage than the last one.’

She huffed out a laugh at the audacious comment. She’d bought the bronze silk creation at a luxury clothing consignment store in the Tenderloin yesterday, while channelling her inner Ashling. She hoped the dress was just as hip as the first, but Luke was right—it was a lot less revealing than the gold dress now tucked into her luggage in need of repair.

‘I don’t want to have to punch anyone for staring,’ he added.

He nuzzled her neck, his lips trailing to her earlobe. Her heartbeat hammered against her throat at the possessive comment—which was pretty much where it had remained for the last three days.

She cleared her throat and tried to smile as the mirrored reflection of his hot, mocking smile sent a heavy pulse deep into her abdomen. ‘Very funny,’ she said, sure he was just teasing her.

She stared at the shimmering silk. So much more demure than Ash’s dress. The dress that had caused her so much trouble... Although she was afraid this dress wasn’t going to make tonight any easier to negotiate.

She should never have agreed to Luke’s invitation to extend their affair for another week. Because after four more days with Luke this felt too much like a real relationship. And tonight... Tonight she was already losing her grip on reality. Thanks to the searing gaze making her cheeks burn.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but somehow she hadn’t expected Luke to be quite so...attentive.

After flying them back to the city on Saturday morning, he’d had her luggage moved from the hotel to his apartment in the Presidio. Then he’d arranged meetings for her with a string of CEOs from a series of dynamic new start-ups. The information they’d given her was like gold dust for investors, and she knew Temple would be pleased with the report she had been working on while Luke was out of the apartment preparing for the product launch.

She had finally had the chance to speak to Temple yesterday, to update him on her progress. Thank goodness he hadn’t seemed remotely fazed when she’d told him Broussard Tech wasn’t looking for investment so she was lining up other prospects. The truth was he’d seemed surprisingly preoccupied.

She hoped it had nothing to do with the astonishing message she’d discovered from Ash after switching her phone on again when she’d got back to San Francisco—and her phone charger.

Gwen’s still off sick with her back issues. So I’m running errands for Temple.

Seriously? Ash was working for Temple? After being so reluctant even to deliver a tuxedo to him a week ago? And managing to screw that up, according to the last time she’d checked in with her friend?

But Cassie hadn’t really had time to investigate. Especially as Ash had seemed more than a little evasive about the arrangement when they’d spoken—and more interested in quizzing Cassie about developments with Luke. But as Cassie had no desire to talk about that topic, she’d decided not to press Ash on her new temporary job.

She had much bigger things to worry about right now than whether Ash was going to flake out on Temple again. Such as how she was going to keep her heart from shattering when she had to return to the UK in three days.

The product launch itself that morning had been a spectacular success. But she’d found it increasingly hard to concentrate on business with Luke never far from her side. She’d expected to be anonymous at the launch, one of the many invited guests. But she’d been anything but...

She shifted round. ‘Are you sure I should be going to this party tonight?’ she asked. ‘I haven’t told anyone except Ash about...about us. I don’t want to seem unprofessional,’ she said, knowing she was lying to herself as much as Luke.

She’d crossed that line twelve tumultuous days ago—and keeping their affair a secret had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with keeping her own feelings in check.

‘Ashamed to be seen with me?’ he asked.

But even though his lips had curved into that confident sensual smile she adored, his eyes had suddenly lost their twinkle of amusement.

‘Of course not,’ she said instantly, and her heart squeezed at the thought she might have insulted him.

However much being Luke’s date might compromise her business reputation—especially when she was forced to explain the situation to Temple—that wasn’t the real reason she was struggling.

‘I just... I didn’t expect for us to be so...’ Right. She swallowed the word down, tried to unthink it. ‘So much like a couple,’ she managed.

This relationship wasn’t right—it wasn’t even real. Not for much longer anyway.

He stared back at her. ‘You’ve got to come. You don’t want to waste this dress.’

He pressed his palms into the fabric, letting the shimmering material rasp over her already over-sensitised skin.

‘Even if it’s gonna be torturing me all night, knowing how much I want to get you out of it,’ he added provocatively, skimming a finger over her breast.

Her nipple squeezed into a tight peak from the tantalising caress. She shuddered, enthralled all over again—the way she had been for nearly two weeks now. Every time he touched her, every time he looked at her with that searing approval in his eyes, every time he made her feel more than she’d ever felt before...

He dropped his hand back to her waist and tugged her close to press a kiss to her temple. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We won’t be staying long.’

He clasped her hand and led her out of the penthouse apartment.

‘Which is why we need to get there before midnight,’ he added as he stabbed the private elevator button. ‘So we can leave early.’

She let the familiar hunger surge. His urgency was as intoxicating as the devilish gleam that had returned to his eyes. But it did nothing to cover the frantic beat of her heart, which was still rammed in her throat.

It wasn’t until Luke stepped out of the limo at the venue, with her hand still clasped firmly in his, and headed through the barrage of paparazzi to the legendary nightclub hired for the event—three floors of the world’s hottest DJs, housed in an iconic nineteen-hundreds redbrick canning factory in Fisherman’s Wharf—that she realised her professional reputation was the least of the things she had already lost to Luke Broussard.

And the only person to blame for that was herself.

‘Damn, I thought we’d never get out of there.’

Luke spun Cassandra around as they walked back into his apartment. Finally. The sun was coming up over the bay through the penthouse’s windows as he pressed her lithe body to the glass and placed his mouth on the hammering pulse in her neck.

He wanted her. Now. Had been frantic to have her all evening. Dancing with her had been tortuous...feeling her body move in time with his and knowing he couldn’t claim her the way he wanted to claim her without getting arrested.

But he’d branded her as his for all the world to see tonight in every other way that counted.

‘I haven’t told anyone except Ash about us...’

The quiet words she’d spoken earlier ricocheted through his head again, taunting him the way they’d been doing all evening, tying his gut into tight, greasy knots and making his insides hurt.

To hell with that.

She was his. And he’d be damned if he’d let her hide that from anyone.

The echo of her words had faded when he’d paraded her in front of the photographers outside the club, when he’d kept her anchored to his side while everyone came up to congratulate him on the launch, when he’d lost himself in the throbbing bass beat of a retro rap anthem and celebrated his success with her in his arms.

But now what she’d said shouted across his consciousness again, as he grasped the dress that had been keeping her from him and yanked it down.

The sound of rending fabric tore through the quiet apartment and she bucked against his hold.

‘Luke...’ she said, her voice trembling with arousal, and shock. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Not any more...’ he said, cupping the breast he’d exposed and capturing the swollen nipple in his mouth.

She jerked, her ripe flesh engorging in a rush as he suckled strongly. He lifted his head to watch as he shoved the remnants of silk off her, leaving her naked but for the swatch of lace covering her sex.

‘I need you,’ he said, palming her sex through the lace.

The desire to own her, which had been building like wildfire all night, ever since she’d challenged him, was turning into a need so fierce it all but consumed him. Wet heat flooded into his hand as he delved beneath the gusset, found the slick nub of her clitoris.

‘Tell me you need me, too,’ he demanded.

She nodded, her eyes dazed, and yet she was focussed solely on him as he hooked her leg around his waist and fumbled with the zipper of his pants.

His fingers were clumsy, frantic, as he freed his huge erection, ripped away the last barrier between them, and then lifted her to plunge in up to the hilt.

She took him in on a shocked sob.

The penetration was deep, but not deep enough. He needed all of her—every single inch, every single millimetre. Claimed, conquered, branded.

Her head fell back against the glass as he rocked out, thrust back, harder and faster. But still it was not enough. Her first orgasm hit as her sex massaged his, nearly sending him over too, but he held on, held back. He needed more. He needed her total surrender to make this right.

The terrifying realisation barrelled into him as a titanic climax gathered at the base of his spine, more pain than pleasure. Too raw, too desperate. Suddenly he was that boy again. Needing approval, needing validation, needing respect, needing love.

‘More,’ he groaned. ‘Come again, just for me.’

Holding her up with one arm, still thrusting like a mad man, like an insane person, he found the heart of her pleasure, circled the swollen nub with his thumb. She came around him, pulsing hard, the orgasm even more intense than the first, and he yelled and finally let himself shatter too, body and soul, pouring himself into her.

They sank together to the carpet. Her naked limbs were tangled with his. Her face was pressed into his neck, and the shattered gasps of her breathing matched his as he cradled her body.

And knew he’d made her his, the only way he ever could.

Cassie sat on the carpet, struggling to capture her breath and make sense of what had just happened. It had been like a whirlwind. She felt so raw, so...owned. So exhausted.

It was six in the morning and she knew despite everything, despite all her warnings to herself, that she’d fallen hopelessly in love with the man whose head now rested on her shoulder as they both tried to claw back the sanity they’d lost so comprehensively.

This wasn’t just sex. Had never been just sex. Not for her.

The sound of her phone buzzing crashed into the terrifying thought. She reached for her bag, suddenly desperate to escape the painful pressure in her chest which had been there for days but was now threatening to crush her ribcage.

She couldn’t be in love with Luke. It would force her right back to where she’d been all those years ago. With her self-worth, her security, tied to a man who didn’t love her back.

‘Hey...’ He grasped her wrist as she retrieved the phone from her bag, her fingers trembling. ‘You’re not taking that,’ he said.

It was a command, not a question. And something deep in her heart twisted. She’d let so much of herself go for this man, and none of it made sense any more. She had to leave—had to get out. Before the damage was irreparable.

‘I have to. It might be important.’

She eased herself off the floor, grasped the remains of the silk dress which he’d torn off her only moments before, held it to cover her nakedness. Panic at what they had just shared—so urgent, so basic, so uncontrolled—gathered in her gut alongside the need to run before Luke realised the truth.

Her hand shook as she pressed her thumb to the home screen to unlock her phone and read the message from her boss.

I need you. Can you get an early flight back?

She blinked. Temple’s text was so out of character it barely registered for a moment. But when it did, she knew she had a way out.

It was cowardly, weak, pitiable—she knew all that—but as she tapped out a reply on her phone, still trembling from the orgasms which had shattered her, the panic controlled her.

This was a fight for survival now. If she stayed another minute, another day, all it would do was crush what was left of her spirit, her independence and her self-respect.

She’d had misgivings about going to the launch as Luke’s date—she’d told him that—and he’d introduced her to everyone—including all the people she’d interviewed for her investment report—as if they were properly dating. As if they were a couple.

Had he known how that would make her feel? Had he done it deliberately? Or did he simply not care enough about her to be cautious.

She suspected it was just Luke being Luke—commanding, arrogant, nurturing, but also possessive—but she also knew that he didn’t understand how deep her feelings went...how delusional she had become in the last few days. So he had no idea the damage he was doing.

Still holding the torn silk to cover her nakedness, she said, ‘I have to book a flight home.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Luke asked, coming up behind her. He placed his hands on her hips to turn her around.

Humiliation washed over her. He was already dressed—all he’d had to do was zip his flies. And she was still naked and shivering, with the afterglow still racking her body, making her want what she couldn’t have. Shouldn’t need.

He gently cupped her chin to lift her gaze to his. ‘Who’s the message from? Has something happened?’

Her heart shattered a little more at the concern in his eyes. He cared about her—just not in the way she had come to care for him. Why did that make it hurt so much more?

‘Temple. He needs me,’ she said.

The thunderous frown on his face came from nowhere. And when he spoke, the lash of contempt in his voice shocked her.

‘You have got to be kidding me! What are you—his lap dog?’

She stiffened, reeling from the unprovoked attack, and from what she could see in his eyes—which wasn’t anger so much as...jealousy?

‘He’s my boss,’ she said slowly, feeling exposed and small. ‘This is my job. It matters to me.’

‘Oh, come on. This isn’t about your damn job. He clicks his fingers and suddenly you’re hightailing it across an ocean to do his bidding?’

She pressed the torn material to her breast, shaking now... But somehow, from somewhere, she found the courage she needed to cover the hurt and humiliation burning in her gut.

‘What are you implying?’ she said, her voice surprisingly calm given that everything she knew about him, about herself, was imploding.

‘Just tell me one thing—have you slept with him?’

‘You bastard,’ she said, his accusation slicing through her heart. ‘You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with.’

‘What?’ he asked, his face a picture of shock. ‘What did you just say?’

‘Nothing—it doesn’t matter,’ she said, desperate to claw the words back, their truth making her feel so insignificant, so foolish.

‘Damn it, Cassie. Was I your first?’ he said, as if it mattered to him.

But she could hear the demand in his voice. And she knew that if she admitted the truth it would only make her more lost, more vulnerable, more unequal.

‘Tell me the truth,’ he said.

She shook her head. She didn’t owe him an explanation. Didn’t owe him the truth. Because it wouldn’t change the real truth. That she’d given him far too much of herself and all the time she had never meant that much to him.

‘It isn’t important anyway,’ she said, wanting desperately to believe it. ‘Because you certainly won’t be my last.’

He tensed as if she’d struck him. ‘Why the hell did you lie about it?’ he said.

But when he reached for her arm, she jerked it out of his grasp. ‘Don’t touch me, Luke,’ she said, knowing she had to protect herself now. She couldn’t worry about him and his demons, because her own were already consuming her. ‘I don’t want you to touch me,’ she added. ‘I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.’

She knew she’d hurt him—saw him flinch as he dropped his arm. But she turned, ran into the bedroom and locked the door, before the great gulping sobs could overtake her.

How could she have given so much of herself and been prepared to get so little in return? She’d succumbed to his will all the way along and lost herself in the process. Opened herself up and told him things about herself that had given him a power over her she couldn’t get back. And he’d never done the same. He’d remained closed off—in control the whole time.

All that was left to her now was to run away and own the fact that she’d fallen far too easily.

She dropped the torn dress and tugged on other clothing, her silent sobs making her fingers clumsy, her body convulse.

After throwing everything she could reach into her case, she forced herself to open the bedroom door—and found the room empty.

She knew she couldn’t survive another confrontation with him, that he’d done her a favour, but the relief she wanted to feel refused to come.

She scribbled a note, to apologise one last time. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. But it would be just one more thing to regret of so many.

She managed to hold herself together until she was sitting in a cab on her way to the airport. But as she booked a flight, and sent a message to Temple to say that she was on her way home, the tears fell unbidden to splash onto the phone. Because London didn’t feel like home any more.

The urge to call Ash, to draw her friend into this titanic mess, to lean on her unqualified compassion and solidarity was immense. But she tucked her phone back into her bag as the cab took the exit onto I-80 and the Golden Gate Bridge disappeared in the rear window, her throat still raw from the look on Luke’s face the last time she’d seen it.

She didn’t deserve Ash’s support now...didn’t deserve her comfort.

She’d made this mess all by herself... And now she would have to live with it.