Russian's Ruthless Demand Page 8

  She knew he was attracted to her. He would just never be serious about her. But that was okay. She didn’t plan to marry the man. Heck, she didn’t even plan to sleep with him. She would just entice him to kiss her and win the bet.

  On the verge of calling Olivia for some pointers on flirting, Eleanore changed her mind. Her sister would only want to know all the details and she didn’t want word to get back to Isabelle, who would no doubt think her behaviour highly inappropriate. On that note Eleanore pulled up short. If Isabelle ever found out about the bet would she wonder if Lukas hadn’t given her the contract because he was interested in her personally instead of professionally?

  Given that Isabelle hadn’t been that enthused about the project until Eleanore had mentioned that Lukas might have gone to the Chatsfields next she didn’t want to give her sister any reason to doubt her competence on the project. Her nose crinkled as she thought about that. Isabelle was a stickler for doing the right thing; it came with being the eldest and running the family company, no doubt, and Eleanore would never do anything to jeopardise the promotion she was desperate to get but...she also couldn’t deny the tiny thrill that zipped through her at the thought of pitting herself against Lukas Kuznetskov and winning. The man was just so full of himself and her sister need never know about how she’d won the right to have Harrington’s name on the door and she was positive Lukas would never admit to losing a bet with a woman. He didn’t seem the type.

  No, it would be fine. She would win and have an even bigger coup to offer Isabelle than just finishing his spectacular hotel. A grin split across her face as she pulled the silky top over her head. She could barely wait for it to happen just to see the look on his face when she won.

  * * *

  ‘You don’t play fair, Eleanore,’ Lukas murmured as she took a seat beside him at the conference table.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked, darting him a nervous look before pulling as far back in her seat as possible without toppling over.

  When he’d arrived at the early-morning meeting she’d been talking with Greg Drummond, the site foreman he’d introduced her to the previous afternoon. Lukas hadn’t like the way Drummond had looked at her then and he didn’t like the way he was looking at her now.

  His foreman’s attention was just a little too tuned, his laughter just a little too enthusiastic. Still, it didn’t mean that just because a man looked at a woman’s legs with a glint in his eyes that he was planning to sleep with her.

  Well...sometimes it did, but dammit, who was to say Eleanore was even Drummond’s type? Yes, she had a great body her tight skirt and fitted suit jacket did little to hide and a pretty face and incredible eyes with dark silky lashes, but that didn’t mean Drummond wanted her.

  Lukas frowned. But nor did he need Drummond turning into some sort of lapdog for a month and becoming so distracted it jeopardised the completion of his hotel.

  A feeling of jealousy he’d never experienced before swamped him and vied with logic for top billing. He knew what it was. Last night she had told him she hadn’t wanted him and it had tripped his ego again. So okay, maybe he should just call the whole wager thing off as he’d thought of doing during his morning swim.

  And maybe he would have if someone Eleanore was talking to hadn’t made some comment about her shoes—pitch-black stilettos with red soles and a thin red strap that manacled her ankle—because she’d twisted sideways and her calf muscle flexed as she glanced at her feet as if to check what she had put on them. As she did, her suit jacket gaped just enough that he’d been able to see what she had on underneath. Or rather didn’t have on.

  It was at that point she’d noticed him in the doorway and the warm smile she’d bestowed on his employees had turned into a stunned moue.

  The other staff members had noticed him too, and had made moves to take their seats around the table.

  Lukas hadn’t shifted his eyes off Eleanore though and she’d stiffened under his insatiable regard like a soldier reporting for duty. Game on, her body language had said to his, and he’d found himself as hard as an untried youth poring over a girlie magazine.

  Not only that but thoughts of her had kept him awake for a long time the night before and he wondered if he had done the same to her.

  So he’d held out a chair for her. ‘Miss Harrington,’ he’d said smoothly, ‘I believe this is your seat.’ She hadn’t wanted to sit beside him—he’d seen that right away—but her professionalism had won out and she’d taken the seat he’d offered with consummate grace. Then she’d set her laptop on the table in front of her and shifted away from him as much as she could.

  Now, while he waited for everyone to quieten down, he couldn’t help letting her know he knew her secret.

  ‘What I’m talking about, Eleanore,’ he drawled, ‘is that I never would have expected you to fight dirty.’

  ‘I do not fight dirty,’ she forced out.

  ‘You don’t think going braless is fighting dirty? And who would have thought you were the type. I approve by the way.’

  ‘I did not go braless for you!’ She looked at him and he almost felt sorry for her when she blushed.

  Noticing the avid glances of his employees Lukas introduced her to the group of five and outlined her impressive credentials. Once he was finished he smiled as she completely ignored him and took the floor.

  She had clearly prepared herself for the morning and he was impressed with her articulate speech even though she’d once again butchered his language and told the team she was very happy to head up the project and worked to look forward with them. No one had laughed at her gaffe and he supposed that was because she exuded just the right mix of authority and genuine warmth. What shone through was that although she had grown up in a privileged household she worked hard and was clearly passionate about her job. And everyone liked her, he realised, including him.

  He liked her very much, especially the inordinate amount of bare skin she had flashed beneath her fitted jacket and flimsy scarf. It made him want to open up her jacket button by button to reveal exactly what she had worn to tempt him with underneath.

  She handed out a sheath of papers she must have printed off that morning and Lukas flicked through them quickly. They were ideas for the guest bedrooms and as the others looked through them more slowly she explained her vision.

  ‘We have thirty rooms in total that need to be themed. As our target audience is predominantly couples we want the rooms to look sexy.’ She paused to clear her throat and he withheld a smile as one of their earlier conversations replayed in his mind. He liked that he affected her. Very much.

  ‘I’ve drawn up ideas for ten of the rooms,’ she continued. ‘And I don’t mind that some of the themes are repeated, but we want originality. We also need someone to source the textiles for the individual rooms and public areas.’

  Lukas didn’t join in the brainstorming session but instead found himself distracted by her scent and the graceful movement of her hands as she spoke. She wore a small gold signet ring on her left-hand pinkie finger and he wondered if an ex-lover had given it to her. Or a current one. The thought had his gut tightening even though he knew he didn’t have any claim to her.

  When she suddenly stopped talking he realised he’d moved his leg closer to hers and that his knee was pressed firmly against her thigh. Would she move hers away or leave it there?

  * * *

  Eleanore curled her toes inside her shoes when she felt the light pressure of Lukas’s knee against her own. She knew what he was doing: making her sit beside him, invading her personal space, looking sexy in another dark suit and open-necked shirt that he knew drew a woman’s eye to the masculine column of his tanned neck and the whorl of hair that just peeked out the top and made her wonder how thick it was and how far across his chest it spread.

  Knowing she should have been immune t
o his lady-killer charm didn’t stop Eleanore from wondering how it would feel to be held in his arms. How it would feel to make love with him... Which made no sense at all because she’d never had trouble focusing on her goals before. Never even been tempted to deviate from them. Structure was important to her and it was something Isabelle had always admired about her.

  ‘You’re so practical, El, it’s really impressive. You put your head down and don’t let anything get in your way.’

  And she wouldn’t let Mr Smooth-Talking Kuznetskov get in her way either, Eleanore thought. But how in the world did he know she wasn’t wearing a bra? Or that she wasn’t the type? She grimaced. She didn’t know what upset her the most: that he had guessed that she was braless or that he had guessed she wasn’t the type who went braless. She blew out a frustrated breath. Maybe she should see a shrink when she returned to the US. Because sleeping with her pseudo-boss—which would no doubt be wonderful a little voice on her shoulder assured her—was definitely not on any of her list of goals.

  ‘Eleanore?’

  Embarrassed to be caught mentally drifting she subtly moved her leg away from his and tapped her computer mouse as if she’d been lost in more productive thoughts than what it would be like to sleep with him. ‘I’m sorry, I missed that.’

  ‘I asked if you had anything else to say to the team.’

  ‘No. No. Just.’ She cleared her throat and addressed the small group. ‘Eto zdorovo vstretit’sya s vami bylo.’

  Everyone clapped and one by one left the conference room.

  Lukas leant closer to her and repeated her last sentence back to her but in a different order. She frowned. ‘What did I say?’

  ‘You said it great meet you was.’

  ‘Oh...I’m terrible at languages.’

  He laughed. ‘You don’t say.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You could be nice about it.’

  ‘And then where would we be.’

  In bed, Eleanore thought, and had to blink to clear the image from her consciousness.

  As the last person filed out of the room she waited for Lukas to do the same. He didn’t. He just sat there and watched her with those wicked blue eyes so she gathered her stuff together and pretended she wasn’t flustered at the thought that he would mention her underwear again.

  ‘Did you sleep well last night?’ he asked, his pleasant tone winding her nerves even tighter.

  ‘Fine, thanks. And you?’

  ‘Not so much.’ He took a sip from his water glass. ‘I dreamt about getting you naked.’

  Eleanore twisted her mother’s ring on her little finger. ‘I know what you’re trying to do,’ she said crisply, ‘and it won’t work.’

  He leaned back in his chair. ‘It won’t?’

  ‘No.’ It occurred to her that she really should be trying to tempt him and she briefly considered slipping off her scarf on the pretext of being hot but at the last minute she chickened out. The only real experience she had with flirting was watching actresses in movies and they never fluffed their lines.

  ‘Going somewhere?’ he drawled.

  Eleanore held her files and computer to her chest. ‘Work.’

  Of course he chuckled, the husky sound following her down the hallway.

  * * *

  By the end of the week Eleanore found herself jumping at shadows and she was no longer dressing to tempt him. It was too stressful and he was a much better player than her.

  While she spent her time trying to avoid him he called her into his office on the smallest pretext or stopped by hers to go over things with her. And she had no choice but to put up with it.

  On one of the days he’d even taken lunch in her office. Or rather, dessert. It had been one of the office girls’ birthday and he’d brought cake. Chocolate cake. Only one slice and one fork.

  ‘Want some?’ There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes and his smile widened as she pressed herself back against her chair.

  ‘No.’

  He perched on the end of her desk. ‘On a diet?’

  Eleanore ignored the heat rising to her cheeks. ‘That’s hardly polite.’

  ‘You don’t need to diet. You’re tiny.’ His mocking gaze lingered on her chest. ‘Well, most of you is tiny.’ Ignoring her sharp inhalation at his rudeness he tilted the plate in her direction. ‘It’s good.’

  She didn’t need him to tell her that. She knew it would be good. She could smell it from across her desk. Saw the way he tipped the fork over in his mouth and used his tongue to suck all the chocolate away. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing out on.’

  Oh, she was pretty sure that she did.

  His smirk as he swirled his tongue around the fork infuriated her and his lazy smile told her he knew it.

  ‘I’m busy.’

  ‘Anything I can do for you?’

  ‘Find a main road and go play on it,’ she suggested sweetly.

  He chuckled. ‘How about you kiss me instead and put us both out of our misery.’

  ‘Who said I was miserable?’

  Tired. Grumpy. Wound up tighter than one of her father’s old fishing reels. Yes. And okay, maybe a teensy bit miserable.

  Spying the next forkful of decadent cake he was about to put in his mouth the little devil on Eleanore’s shoulder made her reach out and snag his wrist.

  He went predator still at her actions, curiosity lighting the depths of his blue eyes and Eleanore cursed her impulsiveness. She’d intended the move to be brief. She’d wanted to turn the tables and show him that two could play at this silly game of seduction. Only the skin beneath her fingers was warm and dry, the hair on his wrist slightly rough against her palm and her awareness of him skyrocketed. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest and it was sheer pride that had her redirecting the fork to her own mouth and away from his.

  Knowing it was too late to back down she ignored the rush of colour that stung her cheekbones and closed her eyes as she quickly drew the cake into her mouth. ‘Mmmm.’ She slowly eased back in her chair as if she was completely unaffected by what she’d done and forced herself to keep looking at him as his gaze raked over her face and settled on her mouth.

  The cake turned to glue but she pretended it was ambrosia as she swallowed. ‘You were right, it is good.’

  She noticed that the blue of his eyes was almost entirely eaten up by his pupils and she was just congratulating herself for getting one up on him when he reached across the expanse of the desk and placed his thumb against the corner of her mouth.

  Her breath stuttered and then stopped as the rough pad of his thumb traced a gentle path across her lower lip. Instant weakness pervaded her limbs and she felt light headed as arousal coursed through her and settled in an ache between her thighs.

  ‘A crumb,’ he murmured, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. ‘Do you want it?’

  Completely mesmerized by the dark sweep of his lashes as he watched her, Eleanore did something she’d never even had the remotest urge to do before. She opened her mouth and drew his thumb inside.

  His taste exploded against her tongue, dark and earthy. Slightly musky with just a hint of the sweet chocolate. But it was him that she tasted. Him that made her heart race. Instinct seemed to take over and she wound her tongue around his thumb and sucked lightly.

  She wasn’t sure which one of them made a low noise but the sound made her jerk back, releasing his now moist flesh. She lifted heavy eyes to his and absently noted the dull colour highlighting his cheekbones and the way his eyes glittered dangerously down into hers. For a minute she thought he was going to devour her, the look of hunger was so stark on his taut features. Fortunately someone knocked on her door and the tension in the air broke like a line of cotton held too tight for too long.

  Lukas mumbled something under his breath in his own
language and fired her a dark look. ‘Until next time, moya krasavitsa.’

  Feeling like a puppet who had just been set aside Eleanore would have gladly slumped in her chair if not for the girl who had just entered her office.

  Smiling brightly she tried once again to put Lukas Kuznetskov out of her mind, knowing that with every maddening interaction they had it became harder and harder to do.

  * * *

  That night she dreamt of him licking chocolate sauce off her body. When she woke up she was sweaty and uncomfortable and her mood didn’t improve when she realised that all her work shirts were dirty because she’d been so exhausted from long hours working each day she hadn’t gone down to the communal laundry or located a dry-cleaning service. Spying the new sleeveless blouse she’d impulsively purchased two days ago from a nearby boutique she wondered if she’d dare wear it to the office. She didn’t know what had possessed her to buy it. It wasn’t her typical style—a little low cut in the front and made from the sheerest cream silk she’d ever touched—but at least she could wear a bra with it, and if she kept her jacket on...

  Remembering that Lukas would be out of town all day looking at his ships or something, she didn’t waste time searching for anything else but combined it with a smart Chanel-style skirt suit with a cropped jacket. She added her favourite black boots and tied her hair back in a sleek ponytail.

  Feeling more like her normal self she was almost whistling by the time she reached her office and shoved Lukas firmly out of her mind as she got down to it.

  ‘Good to see you’ve put underwear on today.’

  Eleanore turned sharply to find Lukas loitering in her doorway. She slammed the filing cabinet in her office closed and marched over to her desk. She grabbed the jacket from the back of her chair and stuffed her arms into it.

  ‘Please, don’t cover up on my account.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  His eyebrows slowly climbed his forehead. ‘Grumpy this morning?’