He ran his tongue across his top lip. ‘Well, I can tell from your attitude that you enjoy being on top. Being in control.’
He had that right. I smiled, turned and walked over to the large sofa in the centre of the room. ‘You’re right. I do like being on top.’ I sat down, making zero effort to stop my dress from riding up, and leaned back against the cushions.
Byron stayed where he was. ‘The trouble is,’ he muttered, ‘I like being in charge too.’
I tucked one leg underneath me. It wasn’t easy but it was worth it to see the flare in his eyes. Come on, Byron. Get your arse over here and sit down before you fall down. ‘I suppose that makes us incompatible then,’ I said with a tinge of sadness. ‘Nothing more than ships that pass in the night.’
He still didn’t bloody move. ‘Don’t say that, Integrity,’ he said. ‘I have a feeling that we’re going to know each other for much longer than that.’
‘Really?’ I patted the seat next to me. ‘What makes you say that?’
He seemed to make a decision. He strode over and sat next to me, his thigh dangerously close to mine. I could smell his aftershave again. Delicious.
Byron smirked. ‘What is?’
I started. Had I said that aloud? ‘Er,’ I stuttered, embarrassed. ‘Your scent. It’s delicious.’
His smile grew. ‘Really? Because I think you’re delicious.’
It was the type of comment that would normally have me rolling my eyes. Instead, my chest felt tight and it was like I’d forgotten how to breathe. Byron stared into my eyes, his emerald depths darkening to a deep jade. There was a question lurking there.
My senses swam. Oh, why the hell not? He’d be unconscious before this really got anywhere. I gave the tiniest nod of my head. I’d almost achieved what I’d come here to do; I could allow myself a bit of fun in the process. It would hurt him more tomorrow when he discovered the theft of his sparkly jewel. And he deserved the hurt after the way he’d spoken to me when I was a kid.
Byron didn’t take any further convincing. He gave a faint groan and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against mine. Screw that. If I was going to make this kind of error of judgment, I was going to go all in. I grabbed the back of his head and deepened the kiss, pressing into him. He tasted of whisky and champagne mixed together. His stubble scraped my cheek. I felt dizzy and exhilarated all at once. A kiss shouldn’t feel this good. Especially a kiss with such a wanker. I pulled back, breathing hard. He stared at me, a stunned expression on his face.
‘I told you I liked to be on top,’ I said, hooking one leg over him so I could sit astride him. His body was rock hard. I ran my hand up his chest and he shuddered. He must have put in an extraordinary number of hours at the gym to achieve that sort of physique. He adjusted my weight, shifting my body so he could get more comfortable.
‘Oh really? Because I think you’ll find I’m the one in charge here.’
‘No chance,’ I whispered, leaning in once more. Then I pulled back abruptly.
He frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’
I put one hand up to my head. It didn’t feel good. ‘Something’s not right,’ I muttered.
‘Integrity,’ he rasped, ‘this is so right.’
‘No.’ I shook head. My vision was beginning to blur. ‘I feel strange.’ And then, for the second time that day, I keeled over.
Chapter Seven
This time when I woke up, I was more aware of my surroundings than I was when the Wild Man knocked me out. That was mainly because there was an arm wrapped tightly round my waist and a leg thrown over my hip, pinning me into place. And that damn aftershave was everywhere. It was as if I’d been sprinkled liberally with it.
I groaned and tried to move my arm, eventually managing to squeeze it out from underneath me. I rubbed my eyes. I glanced down at myself and froze. My pink dress was gone. All I was wearing were my bra and panties. At least I wasn’t naked. I wasn’t sure if I could take that sort of shame. I’d never live it down if Lexie discovered I’d let myself be this vulnerable.
What the hell had happened to me? Everything was going so swimmingly … I ran through the events in my mind. It had to have been the champagne. Somehow – and I had no idea how – I must have drunk from the spiked glass instead of Byron. That would explain why I’d felt the sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and fling myself at him. And the current wham-wham pounding in my head. Frankly, it was a bloody good thing that I’d passed out before things went any further.
I scowled. He didn’t have to strip me though. And he could have put my unconscious body in the second bedroom. Or on the sofa.
His breath, hot on the back of my neck, was soft and even. I’d just have to hope he was a sound sleeper because I was getting into that safe and getting the Lia Saifire right now. Enough was enough.