Emma Darcy: The Pleasure King's Bride

Another quizzical, more weighing look from Jared. In fact, his coat was off now, slung over one shoulder, and he’d loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves. The strong raw maleness that seemed to emanate from all three King brothers was coming at her in waves, making her acutely aware of being a woman.

“I mean it’s so hot,” she gabbled. “Ridiculous to be walking around dressed like that. No wonder you wanted a drink.”

A slow, ironic smile. “I must admit I’d rather be in a swimsuit.” His eyes gliding over her appreciatively.

It wasn’t a leer. Jared King wasn’t the leering type. But she could feel his pleasure in seeing her like this, every curve hugged and outlined by the sleek yellow maillot, still wet from her swim, and his pleasure always did funny things to her, evoking a foolish happiness that muddled her mind and stirring physical reactions that left her miserably unsettled.

Her breasts were tingling right now, a shivery excitement running up and down her spine, her stomach turning mushy. If only he wasn’t so handsome, so insidiously attractive to her in so many ways...

“Actually, I was driving home from the airport,” he went on.

Of course! He was due home from his business trip to Hong Kong. She just hadn’t connected the suit to Jared, but he would wear one to deal with the Chinese, commanding their respect on all levels. The pearl King, they called him, because he headed the pearling industry his family owned, but secretly Christabel had dubbed him the pleasure King. It was something in his eyes, a warm, caressing sensuality...

“Then I remembered my mother was away...”

His mother—Elizabeth King, of the sharp intelligence and shrewd judgment, a woman who’d lived too much and seen too much for Christabel to ever feel comfortable in her company.

“...no-one to talk to, wind down with...”

Making himself sound lonely, but there was never any need for Jared King to be lonely, not a man like him. Or was he subtly tapping at her loneliness?

“...and I wondered if you might like to share my dinner and hear about your designs, the ones I took with me to Hong Kong.”

His smile held a whimsical appeal, and there was a mocking challenge in his eyes over the bait he attached to the personal invitation. He didn’t believe it would make any difference, but since she’d consistently refused to be with him in anything but a business situation, he was trying that angle...just to see her response to it.

“Did they like my jewellery?” she asked, feeling a surge of pride in the designs Jared had given her a free hand to create, and unable to deny her curiosity was piqued.

“Dinner?”

So tempting...strange how a man who always moved with such graceful elegance could exude so much male animal sexuality. He was tall and beautifully proportioned. His almost black hair tended to droop in a soft endearing wave over his forehead, but there was nothing really soft about his strongly boned face, except his rather full lower lip, lending his mouth the same sensual look she often caught in his dark brown eyes...eyes that were simmering at her now with promises of pleasure.

Christabel scooped in a deep breath, wishing she could indulge the desires he stirred in her. “No doubt you’ll tell me everything at work tomorrow,” she answered flatly.

“I was hoping for a pleasant evening together.”

The tug to accept what he offered was stronger than ever. But he would want too much, she told herself for the umpteenth time. Jared King was not the kind of man who would ever settle for less than everything he aimed for. Behind his quiet, affable demeanor was a will of steel she’d sensed many times.

“Vikki Chan invariably cooks a splendid homecoming dinner for me,” he remarked persuasively, dropping in the fact that his Chinese housekeeper would be in the house—the sense of a chaperone. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. In fact, her steamed fish is superb, well worth tasting.”

Food wasn’t the point, and he knew it.

“I like Chinese cooking,” Alicia piped up.

Jared instantly dropped her a charming smile. “What’s your favourite dish?”

“Honey prawns,” came the decisive reply.

“Very tasty,” he agreed with relish. “I’m sure Vikki would do some for you if your mother would like to bring you with her to my place for dinner this evening.”

That was a hit below the belt, involving her daughter directly in the invitation. He’d never done it before and Christabel churned with resentment at the unfair ploy as both of them turned their gaze expectantly to her, Alicia’s expression artlessly pleased at the promise of a treat.

“Can we go, Mummy?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered tersely.

The curt refusal bewildered her daughter, prompting the question, “Why not?”

“Yes...why not?” Jared echoed, maintaining a pleasantly invitational tone.

Christabel glared at him, hating the dilemma he put her in. “Alicia eats early. She’s in bed at eight o’clock.”

“No problem.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost five now. If you come at six...”

“Stop it, Jared!” she burst out.

Slowly he raised his gaze to hers again and there was nothing the least bit affable in his eyes. They burned with the need to rip away every barrier she put up between them. They seared her soul with a truth she could not deny, the sure knowledge of the attraction she felt...the same attraction he felt.

“Some things can’t be stopped, Christabel,” he said quietly.

And she had no answer to that starkly honest statement.

Tension gripped her entire body as she fought the deeply personal needs he evoked. She wanted this man. She wanted to experience all of him so badly, it was like being torn in two, the rational part of her mind insisting an intimate involvement with him would spill over to an attachment with Alicia and the money men would never allow it, not in the long run, so it could only end in wretched torment.

Jared made one of his graceful gestures, the long artistic fingers opening in a curve of giving as he softly added, “Of course, the choice is yours.”

What would it be like to have those fingers caressing her, making her feel loved and cherished and precious to him? Her stomach clenched in a savage desire to know how it would be...the pleasure King making love to her...to have this, just for herself, for at least a little time. Her heart drummed a vehement plea to make her own choice —a choice that shut out every other factor that had ruled her life for so many years.

“I’d like to go, Mummy.”

And why shouldn’t she? Christabel thought fiercely, looking at her daughter with an aching well of love. Why shouldn’t Alicia enjoy the company of a man who didn’t see her as a pawn in a monstrous web of greed? To add something more normal to their life here in Broome...why not?

“Then we shall go,” she answered decisively, defying all the gremlins that rode on her shoulders.

Alicia clapped her hands in delight and lifted a gleeful face to Jared. “Honey prawns,” she archly reminded him.

He laughed at her, his whole body visibly relaxing as he assured her, “I never go back on promises. Honey prawns there shall be.”

“And chocolate chip ice-cream?”

“Alicia!” Christabel chided.

“I was just asking, Mummy,” came the hasty justification.

“You know it’s not good manners.”

A doleful sigh. “Sorry.”

Christabel sighed, too, afraid she was committing an act of utter madness on an impulse she would inevitably regret, yet when she lifted her gaze to Jared’s and saw the happy warmth in his eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to care about the consequences of her decision.