Tycoon's One-Night Revenge by Bronwyn Jameson Page B

extreme?”
    Despite the lazy amusement in his voice, the weight of his steady gaze made her heart beat a little faster, a little harder. And her earlier words resonated in the thickening silence between them.
    You would do whatever it takes to get your hands on the contract to The Palisades.
    “What lengths do you think I would go to,” he said conversationally, “to keep you here? Would I use restraint, for example?”
    “Hypothetically speaking, I would pick blackmail or some other form of verbal coercion as more your speed. You’re far too clever with your tongue to need to use physical force or restraint.”
    For a long moment he studied her in silence, and the warmth of a flush rose unbidden in her face. And she silently berated herself for allowing him to lead her down this path. It was too suggestive, too sensually alluring.
    “Now you’ve gone and aroused my curiosity.” Leaning forward, he captured her gaze and held it in place with the silky restraint of his tone. “We never got kinky then? I didn’t have to tie you up to have my wicked way with you?”
    “I was willing.”
    “Past tense.”
    “Absolutely.”
    His lips tilted at one corner in the sexy half smile that had rendered her willing on so many occasions. He picked up his wine and there was the hint of a salute in the gesture, as if he appreciated her candid responses. But there was a different appreciation in his eyes, one she should not be enjoying, but it was also a challenge from which she couldn’t back down.
    “Now—present tense—if I wanted to keep you here I might need to tie you up. Toss you on that boat Gabrielle mentioned. Take you out to the island.”
    Susannah pretended to give that some thought. “How proficient are you with a captive who’s prone to brutal seasickness?”
    One eyebrow quirked. “I take it that’s not a hypothetical?”
    “Unfortunately, no.”
    “Then I’ll take that into account, should I ever wish to abduct you.”
    “I’d appreciate that.” With a serene smile, she tilted her face toward his plate. “Are you finished with your first course?”
    She removed their plates, and on her way to the kitchen, she could feel him tracking her every step of the way. Her heart continued to beat too fast and the tight heat in her skin was so not good, but she liked the intensity of sensation. She’d forgotten how much she liked the word play, the eye play, the play of his smile. She’d forgotten how one simple exchange with this man could turn her self-perception from cool, cautious and composed to smart, sharp and sexy.
    And it was wrong. Already she had indulged herself far more than she had any right to.
    She shut the dishwasher on their first-course plates with an audible snap and returned to the table, to the safe and sensible second-course salad.
    “I’m intrigued by the boat thing,” he said.
    Susannah’s stomach dipped as if she’d stepped from land onto a moving deck, but she didn’t look up from her plate. “Why is that?”
    “With your job in the travel industry, I thought you’d be an expert on all means of transportation.”
    “I book them,” she told him. “I don’t have to do them. Besides, travel is only one part of At Your Service.”
    “The other parts being?”
    “Whatever a client wants, we’ll find it. Travel, transport, accommodation, entertainment, shopping, staff.”
    “Is that how you met Carlisle?” he asked. “Through your business?”
    Susannah so did not want to go there, but what could she do? Return to banter about abduction and bondage? She’d promised conversation and it stood to reason that the conversation would circle on back to the common conflict. Alex Carlisle, her marriage contract, his business contract.
    She took a sip of her wine and placed the glass carefully on the table. “Yes and no. We’d crossed paths many times at business and social events over the years, and when I started my own business, those connections were vital. My early