For all her daring, determination, and no-nonsense approach to an affair with Ben, she already knew it wouldn't be so easy to let him go in the end. This was a man who didn't try to be something he wasn't, and accepted her for who she was, as well. That in itself was a novelty for her when it came to the men she dated. He was charming when he wanted to be, and he made her feel alive and sexy and desirable, too. And if a few weeks was all they had with one another, she wanted to make the most of their time together, to take everything he was willing to give.
The rules she'd just laid out between them had been all for Ben. To make it easy on him when the affair was over, so he could walk away without worrying about any expectations or pressures from her. She already knew by previous conversations they'd had, combined with the compact way he lived his life, that he wasn't a man looking to settle down with any one woman anytime soon. She supposed losing the woman you loved and adored in a country torn apart by war had a way of making a person more averse to emotional attachments-and more disposed to a single, solitary lifestyle.
"You're awfully quiet." She could only imagine what was going through that head of his, and knew there was nothing left to do but ask him one last question. The most important one of them all. "So, are you interested in a short-term affair?"
His jaw worked back and forth, and just when she thought he was going to give her an unequivocal no, he instead shocked her with his answer.
"I'll think about it," he said.
She realized that he was attempting to placate her with an answer that wasn't really an answer, but at least he hadn't flat out refused her, and that's all she cared about right now. Sure, she'd give him time to think about it, and then she was going to take matters into her own hands.
Starting tonight after the charity ball.
Chapter Eight
ARE you interested in a short-term affair?
He'd told Christine he'd think about it, and he hadn't lied. For the rest of the afternoon that question buzzed through Ben's mind like the greatest of temptations, seducing his body and senses with a dozen different erotic scenarios. At the most inappropriate times he thought about what it would be like to really make love to Christine, to be deep inside of her when she climaxed, to feel all those tight, rippling contractions around his cock as she came undone just for him.
On the drive over to the St. Claire Hotel to set up for the charity's silent auction, she kept up a steady stream of conversation, but instead of hearing what she had to say all he could do was watch her mouth move and remember how soft and sweet her lips tasted beneath his-and how badly he wanted to kiss her again.
Deeply.
Hungrily.
Greedily.
They arrived at the hotel, and since he refused to let her out of his sight she cheerfully put him to work setting up tables for the auction items while she and Madison draped them elegantly in panels of beige silk fabric. Christine leaned across the table to smooth out wrinkles in the material before pinning it in place, and her blouse pulled tight across her chest, outlining her perfect breasts and teasing him with a glimpse of those hard nipples he'd plied with his thumb and sampled with his tongue.
She'd bend down to pick something up, and her heart-shaped ass had him fantasizing about one of his favorite sexual positions.
She purposefully flirted and teased and sent him covert glances that kept him keenly aware of her all day long, and made him want her with each seductive smile and throaty laugh she sent his way. He'd spent their hours together in a stranglehold of desire, lust, and yearning for all the things Christine had offered him with one simple question:
Are you interested in a short-term affair?
After their work in the ballroom was done and the auction items displayed, they went back to Christine's place to take showers and get ready for the evening ahead. Standing beneath the hot spray of water and feeling the sleek caress of water and soap sluicing down his naked frame, it was Christine's hands he imagined were stroking across his chest, down his abdomen, and along his straining erection.
All he could think about was having an affair with her, and it was close to driving him insane. She'd planted the seed and all day she'd nurtured the idea, until resisting her, and everything she was suggesting, was nearly impossible for him to do.
Now, as he finished getting dressed, he suspected that tonight wasn't going to be any different than today-except this evening he needed all his instincts clear and on target, his attention sharp and unclouded by all Christine's sultry attempts to seduce him. Being completely aware of their surroundings and keeping her safe during the charity event was his number-one priority until he had her home again tonight.
But before they could leave, he had to wrangle a long strip of silk into something that resembled a bow tie to go with the designer tuxedo he was wearing, and he wasn't having much luck with the task. He scowled at his reflection in the mirror when he ended up with a tangle of knotted material around his neck, and with an impatient growl he gave it a hard tug to unravel the mess so he could start the frustrating process all over again.
"Well, well, well," came a soft feminine drawl from behind him in the guest bedroom. "Don't you look nice."
"Except for this stupid bow tie," he grumbled irritably. "Who invented this contraption of material, anyway? And why couldn't you have gotten me one of those easy, pre-tied bows?"
"Because that would be cheating," she said, amusement in her voice. "You can't wear a cheap clip-on bow with a Hugo Boss tuxedo. It would ruin the entire look."
He rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Who would even know the difference?" Certainly not him.
"Oh, you'd be surprised."
He turned around to tell her that it was ridiculous that anyone would even care about a bow tie, but as soon as he saw Christine and what she was wearing his mouth went as dry as dust.
The black evening gown she had on for tonight's ball was an exquisite one-shoulder design, accented all over in beads that sparkled like brilliant jewels with the slightest move she made. The silky, shimmering fabric molded to her breasts, but from there the material lightly skimmed along her curves all the way down to the floor, gently emphasizing her womanly figure, rather than clinging to it. Of course, peeking out from the hem of her dress was a pair of black, open-toed, strappy high heels.
She'd swept her blond hair up into an elegant style of soft loose curls that left her shoulders completely bare, and her makeup had been applied in a way that made her blue eyes stand out and drew his gaze to her full, pink-glossed lips. Since the gown itself was so intricate, she'd kept her jewelry very simple-just a pair of diamond stud earrings that rivaled the lustrous shine of her eyes.
Somehow, he found his voice. "Wow. You look absolutely stunning." And she was so out of his league socially he felt like a fraud wearing such a high-dollar, designer tuxedo.
"Thank you." She smiled, her expression glowing from his compliment. "Now let's see what we can do about your bow tie."
"We can always throw it in the trash," he suggested with a grin.
"Sorry, but that's not an option." She turned him around so that he was facing the dresser mirror again and she was standing behind him. "Even in my high heels, you're too tall for what I need to do," she said, and moved away from him.
She returned a moment later, dragging the straight-backed chair that had been in the corner of the guest bedroom. She parked it behind him, then told him to sit down. Curious as to what she intended, he did as she ordered and lowered himself to the chair. She positioned herself behind him, the back of his head now resting gently against the soft cushion of her breasts-which wasn't a bad place to be, he decided.
She reached around him and took the two long ends of the strip of silk in her hands. "Tying a formal bow is just like tying your shoes," she said as she wrapped one end of the material around the other and made a loose knot at the base of his throat.