Carrie Alexander - Playing With Fire (Sexy City Nights) (Harlequin Blaze)

Three weeks before

T HE MAN WAS a hunter.

Lara Gladstone felt it in the unwavering focus of his dark, hungry gaze. His was not a piercing stare. It was a steady, mesmerizing one, so visceral she shuddered beneath it as if hed taken her nape in his strong hand and held her just so, close against his body. Trembling, but still.

Captured.

Captured, Lara mouthed to herself, pausing in her restless tour of the dining room. She touched her prickling nape, feeling his eyes upon her. I will not look.

Deliberately she tilted her head back and lifted her gaze to the yellow, red and golden-brown flecks of glass glowing overhead. A different kind of self-knowledge came over her. A sense of calm. In the midst of the noise and confusion of the cuttingly hip restaurant opening, she gazed at the kaleidoscope of colored glass and let herself slowly drift away. To a dream of homea restless, yearning sort of dream, underlaid with her awareness of the man whod been watching her for the past fifteen minutes.

She was in the woods near her house. The autumn leaves shimmered around her, glorious colors, yellow and red and golden brown. It was quiet, but she was not alone. There was a man. A dark, hungry man. He was stalking her. She must flee. Yet even as she ran until her heart was bursting in her chest, deep inside she knewshe knew

She wanted to be captured.

T HE WOMAN WAS a tease.

Daniel liked that about her.

Absently he raised a glass of red wine to his mouth, wetting his lips as he tracked her circuitous route through the crowded restaurant. When she stepped momentarily out of view, he craned his neck for another glimpse of her. Such impatience, however limited, was unlike him.

Ah. There she was, looking up at a large piece of stained-glass artwork suspended from the ceiling on chains. She swayed ever so slightly, her shoulders moving sensuously, her hand going to her nape and lingering there for an instant before slowly slipping around to stroke her long arched throat. An answering caress sensitized Daniels palms, as if already they knew the feel of her moving beneath them. The warm silken glide of her skin under his fingertips.

A pretty young man approached her. He was garbed in downtown artiste de rigueurclingy shirt and trousers, both made of thin black wool, a pair of glasses with blue lenses and heavy black frames and, for that Bohemian touch, one indiscreet piercing. In this case, a small silver hoop through the septum. Useful, Daniel decided, if the boy needed to be convinced of his impending departure.

The young man put a hand on the womans shoulder and whispered in her ear.

Several heads turned when she laughed. Despite Daniels sudden inclination to make judicious use of the nose ring, the exuberant laugh prompted an answering smile to tug at one corner of his lips. He might have known. No lockjawed, nasal hunh-hunh-hunh for this woman. Her laugh was full-bodied, natural. It revealed her zest for life.

So, he thought with a measure of self-congratulatory swagger. She had brio. She would be his match.

The lazy interest that had stirred inside him at the sight of her expanded into pervasive desire. A feeling to relish. One hed been missing for too long. Already the thrill of the hunt was thrumming in his veinsa low, slow, steady drumbeat keeping pace with the first hot flush of stimulation.

The woman stood out in the crowd like a tawny lioness, regal and reserved among a pack of craven hyenas begging for scraps of attention. She was all in gold, from a cloud of amber hair to the sharp tips of her narrow suede sling-backs. Her dress was an alchemists dreama fluid piece of fabric that skimmed her lithe curves, softening the angular edges of a trim, athletic figure.

Her head seemed a tad too small, set on a long neck above broad swimmers shoulders, counterbalanced by the riotous mass of her pinned-up hair. A private thought made Daniels smirk slip sideways, lifting the other side of his mouth into a generous smile: She had the kind of wild, thick hair that was meant to be spread across a pillow.

He saw her prone on his own bed, stretched out upon cool Egyptian cotton sheets, long, tanned limbs spread in flagrant invitation, her eyes boldprovocativeteasing.

Yes. It would happen. No question.

After another laugh and an indulgent pat on the cheek, the woman turned away from the pretty young man. Toward Daniel.

He drew a quick breath through his teeth, his chest expanding. As much as he desired the body, it was the face that was truly captivating, that continually drew him in. Her face was small and round, unexpectedly full in the cheek when compared to the lean length of her. Cherubic, he might have said, except that her mouth was wide, her nose narrow and her eyes

Ah, her eyes were felinealoof but curious, distant yet riveting. Sparkling with life.

They looked full of naughty thoughts.

Mentally Daniel gathered himself in preparation. Attuned to his wavelength, she responded with a flick of her lashes. Her head cocked in his direction. For the fourth or fifth time, he intercepted a surreptitious glance. Not by default. She wanted him to know that she was as aware of him as he was of her.

Without a doubt, the woman was a tease.

Her elusive gaze slid away again. With the lift of a bare shoulder, she swiveled on her heel, presenting him with her backside.

The dress, so demure from the front, was cut in a deep slash that bared her back to the very dimple at the top of a tight little bottom. A second slit traveled upward from the hem, exposing the entire length of her right leg. Daniel took his time examining the effect. Hed never devoted himself quite so fully to the erotic qualities of the curve of a muscular calf, the hollow of a knee, the tender flesh at the back of a womans thigh.

When he took a step in her direction, she moved swiftly away, maneuvering past a knot of hors doeuvres munchers. Her long, sure stride split the slashed skirt beyond daring. His heart gave an unwieldy thump. The woman was one dropped stitch away from public indecency.

Intent on following her, he set his wineglass on the thick polished slab of marble that made up the bar. The interior of the new restaurant was a marvel of look-at-me architectureall stuccoed curves juxtaposed against sharply angled half walls of brushed steel. Exposed steel I-beams were crusted with the perfect degree of rust, in contrast to the slick black terazzo floor. At least fifty guests occupied the toothpick chairs clustered around stainless-steel bistro tables. Others jammed the padded banquettes that encircled the space. The overflow stood in clusters, nibbling at the free food, attacking the champagne and assorted wines with gusto. Taken together, it was all too pretentious for Daniels taste. He preferred history and age to cutting edge design.

Tamar Brand, his companion for the evening, aimed a wordless question at him as he passed. He volleyed with a shake of his head. She raised just one of her elegant black browsa neat trick she used sparinglyher amused smile both forgiving his curtness and informing him that she knew exactly what he was up to. As always.

Daniel didnt pause. No words were needed; after eleven years together, Tamar knew him far too well. If left to her own devices, she would, with no reproach, take a cab home and charge it to his expense account. Along with a pricey bottle of wine and take-out dinner from one of the citys ritzy delis.

Bribery, he thought, but Tamars silence and skill were worth it.

He turned the corner. Only quick reflexes prevented him from walking straight into his prey. The lioness stood directly on the other side of one of the angled silver walls scattered around the main room like sculptures. No chase, then, he thought, slightly disappointed. She was waiting. For him? Of course.