“Why don’t we put that to the test?” His voice, deceptively soft, slid over her like liquid silver, freezing her blood in her veins. She couldn’t have moved even if she’d tried.
But she didn’t try. She could see the promise in his bold gaze, the daring in the twist of his lips, the desire in his intake of breath. He was going to kiss her. And, God help her, she wanted it.
Maximillian Davidoff stepped forward and, bold as you please, he reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. Then slowly, mercilessly, he drew her face to his, closer and closer, until all she could do was close her eyes tight and wait in breathless anticipation.
And then she felt it, his lips on hers, so firm and demanding, so masterful, just like she’d expected. He kissed her close-mouthed, taking his own sweet time as his lips roamed over hers, exploring, tasting, teasing. Then, inexplicably, his mouth softened, expertly caressing, seducing until, of their own accord, her lips parted on a soft sigh.
It was then that he moved in for the kill. Her guard down, her body pliant, he dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her into him, molding her h*ps to his, pressing her against his hardness.
And he was hard…like rock.
The shock of it, his manhood pressing into her belly, made her gasp. It was so forward even for her, seeing this man for the second time in her life and having that most intimate part of him branded into her, body and mind.
But then he swept all thought from her brain. Even as the arm around her waist tightened, he slid the other up her back till his big hand was cupping the back of her head and then he tilted her face, ever so gently, giving himself total access to her.
When the leather strap slipped off her shoulder and her bag slid to the floor, Silken was past caring. All she could do was cling to the broad shoulders of the man who was kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. At first he’d taken it slow, teasing her lips with soft kisses and nibbles. But now as she yielded to him, all resistance melting away, he took full control, his lips opening her to him, his tongue boldly searching, exploring then plundering, stealing her air, leaving her helpless in his arms.
Finally, when she had no more strength and lay limp in his arms, he lifted his head to gaze down at her with hooded eyes. He drew in a slow, deep breath, and she could tell he was not as unaffected as he would probably like her to believe. Still, he gave her a satisfied look and a slow, enigmatic smile. “You handled that pretty well,” he said then gave a low chuckle. “Now as long as you don’t go chameleon on me, we’re good.”
Silken frowned. Go chameleon? What the beeswax was he blabbing…oh, yeah. The mix-up with her and Suave. She dropped her eyes and bit her lip. Then she stepped back and out of his arms.
“I have something to tell you,” she said, her voice coming out slightly hoarse. “I’m not who you think I am.”
***
Oh God, not again. Was this woman, Suave or whatever her name was, going batty on him again? Max gave her a long, hard stare, glad she’d put some distance between them so he could have a really good look at her. Thankfully, she didn’t look ready to curse him out or slap his face. For the moment, at least, she looked like she still had a grip on her fiery emotions, if not her sanity.
Finally, he spoke. “Meaning?”
She gave a little laugh and actually looked embarrassed. “Meaning, you think I’m Suave, but I’m not.”
Oh, Jesus. She’s losing her grip again. This was one crazy woman for sure. He certainly knew how to pick ‘em. “I’m one hundred percent certain,” he said slowly, not wanting to trigger her anger, “that’s what they called you back at the sports complex.” His eyes narrowed as he watched her. “So who do you think you are today?”
She laughed. “I’m Silken,” she said, her eyes flashing with what looked like amusement. “I’m her sister.” Then, as if that cleared up everything, she bent down, picked up her bag from the floor then straightened and looked back at him with a satisfied smile.
He cocked his head to one side, trying to figure her out. “Your sister, you say. So you’re not Suave…” Of course, he didn’t believe her but he didn’t want to come right out and say it. You never knew what set these people off. He had to take it slow. “You’re not the woman who chewed me out two days ago.”
“Of course I am,” she said with another laugh, looking like she was enjoying this little game she was playing.
“Okay.” He dragged the word out. And as he watched her he folded his arms across his chest. The woman was making not a lick of sense but he’d be patient. He was sure she would come up with some sort of explanation. He could only hope it would have some semblance of reason.
“Can I…” She looked around then back at him. “Oh, I forgot. You don’t have any furniture. I was going to ask if I could have a seat.” Then she frowned. “What kind of a place is this, anyway? Not planning on receiving visitors?”
Max unfolded his arms and slid his hands into his pockets. He shrugged. “Just moved in. I don’t even have staff yet.”
That seemed to pique her curiosity. Brows raised, she tilted her face up to him. “What kind of business are you setting up here?”
He was about to say, but then he paused. She was a curious one. Right after dropping a big bag of mystery into his lap she’d moved on to a totally different topic. He shook his head. “I’ll answer your questions as soon as you answer mine. If you’re not Suave, who the hell are you?”
The dark-haired beauty rolled her eyes. Crazy or not, she was damn easy on the eyes. She gave an exasperated sigh. “I already told you. I’m her sister. We’re twins.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Things were finally beginning to make sense. “So Suave was the one the guy hit on.”
She nodded. “She came out to the tennis court and told me what happened.”
“And you tore back inside and blasted the man sitting at the bar,” he said finishing the sentence for her. “The man who happened to be me.”