Meg Lacey - Million Dollar Stud

Darcy’s words whispered against her skin.

Silver felt herself melt under the seductive pull of his words.

“All I could think of was holding you, touching you, kissing you.”

He pulled her flush against him until she could feel every hard, hot inch of him.

She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t resist. Pulling his head down to hers, she opened her mouth, allowing her tongue to tease, to stroke before pressing her lips to his.

She had to get him out of her system. “Darcy, we’re going to exorcise this tension between us with pure, red-hot sex. Just a good roll in the hay.”

“Since we’re in the office, we’ll have to save the hay for another time,” he teased.

Her eyes narrowed. “There can’t be another time. This is it.”

“In that case, I’m going to make sure I do a damn fine job!”

Meg Lacey first discovered romance in the sixth grade when she wrote her own version of Gone with the Wind. However, her writing career didn’t last. Instead, she went into theater, earned her degree and, over the years, has been an actress, director, copywriter, creative dramatics teacher, mime, mom, college instructor and school bus driver. Currently she is president of her own television and interactive media company, writing and producing in all media from film/video to print. Meg lives in Ohio, where she is currently working on a number of fiction and nonfiction projects.

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

734—SEXY AS SIN

865—A NOBLE PURSUIT

HARLEQUIN DUETS

13—MAKE ME OVER

SILHOUETTE YOURS TRULY

IS THERE A HUSBAND IN THE HOUSE?

DID YOU SAY BABY?!

Million Dollar Stud

Meg Lacey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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My husband and daughters—for their laughter, excouragement and always being there when necessary. And who never hesitate to kick me in the behind when I need it.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

RICHARD D’ARCY KRISTOF, heir to the Kristof family fortune, strode into a private library at his country club, removed his bow tie with a jerk and quickly unbuttoned his collar. “That’s better. I hate these monkey suits.’’ He took the glass of smooth aged bourbon his older cousin, Nicholas Demetries, handed him, and downed the contents in one gulp, handing it back for another shot.

Nicholas chuckled and refilled the glass. “Rough night, Cousin?”

Darcy scowled. “If I had to dance with one more debutante, or listen to one more proud parent telling me how lovely their…whoever…is, I would have jumped off the balcony.”

The Tremont twins paused in setting out the poker chips and cards. “Wouldn’t have done you any good,” Tommy said. “Not if you were thinking suicide. The balcony is only five feet off the ground.”

“Yeah,” Terry agreed. “Worst that would happen is you’d break a leg and end up in the barberry bushes.”

Nicholas, tall, handsome and immaculately dressed in summer formal attire, clasped his cousin’s shoulder. “Then all those lovely debutantes you’re trying to avoid would be banging on your door trying to give the ‘millionaire stud’ some comfort.”

“God forbid.” With a twist of his lips, Darcy sat down at the table and drew the deck of cards toward him. “And don’t call me that. You know how much I hate that idiotic—”

Nicholas smiled. “The press has to sell their stories any way they can, Cousin.”

“Tell you what, Darcy,” said Tommy. “If you need help with that mob of women who’re always chasing you, I’m at your service.”

“Me, too,” echoed Terry.

Darcy began dealing, snapping the cards off and zipping them across the table to the respective players. “Be my guest. I haven’t met the woman yet who could intrigue me for more than forty-eight hours. Most of them bore me stiff.” He doubted a woman existed who could capture his mind as well as his senses, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying them every chance he got.

“Are you talking about in bed or out of it?” Tommy gave him a horrified look. “You don’t actually talk to them, do you?”

Terry nodded as he considered his cards. “Yeah, what’re you doing talking to them, anyway? That’s a mistake I never make.”

“You’re right, Terry.” Tommy grinned. “Take our advice—much better to look at them. That way you won’t get bored.”

Darcy stared at the twins, then shrugged, feeling the tightness in his shoulders. The tension had been building over the past few months, along with his sense of dissatisfaction. Lately, Darcy had felt confined by the aimlessness of his life. But he didn’t know what he wanted instead. He picked up his cards, fanning the hand. “At the moment, everything bores me.”

“Ah, poor misunderstood rich boy,” Nicholas said, mock sympathy dripping off his tongue. He ducked at Darcy’s feigned punch. “Wish we all had your problems.”

Darcy slid him a glance, then an unwilling grin. “Keep it up, Nick.”

Nicholas winked. “Somebody’s got to keep your feet on the ground.”

Terry gulped his drink, then, his words slurring a bit, said, “Are we going to talk all night or play cards? ’Cause if we’re going to talk, I’m going back to the dance.”

For a few minutes they played in silence, focusing on the cards and their bets. But then Darcy tossed back another drink and threw in his hand. “Sorry. I’m just not in the mood to play tonight. Let’s take a rain check, okay?”

The Tremont twins looked at each other, then back at him. “What’s got into you lately?” they asked in perfect unison.

Darcy lifted a brow, his voice tightening. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, screw this,” Tommy said, grabbing his brother’s arm and raising him to his feet. “Let’s go back to the dance. I got my eye on this redhead….”

Nicholas waved the twins to the door, giving Darcy a narrow glance as he did so. When they’d left, he said, “What is the matter with you, Darcy? You’ve been picking fights with everyone lately. Are you having some kind of problems I don’t know about?”

“Yes, I…no…hell, I don’t know.”

Nicholas stared at him. “Is it money? Do you need an advance on your trust?”

“No. I’ve got plenty of money.”

“I’ll say.” Nicholas chuckled, clasping his hands as he prepared to listen. “Okay. Then regardless of what you just said, it must be a woman.”

Darcy sent him a narrow glance. “A woman?” There hadn’t been a woman for weeks, not since Susanne Westingham had seduced him in the pool at the Overtons’ pool party. Or was it the other way around? Darcy frowned. Sometimes it all ran together.

“I know your parents have been pushing you very hard to settle down.”

“With a suitable bride,” Darcy reminded his cousin. “Which means lots of money and connections. The way they talk about it, I’m supposed to vet them before I even date them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to check their teeth.”