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touching it.
    Her lips were parted, her smile sultry as she looked at him through lowered lids. Was it possible he was misreading the signals? He didn’t care.
    They may be playing by her rules, but he would make the next play.
    He tilted his head down to hers, certain she was reaching up to him. His mouth slipped down over the pale skin of her throat as he trailed little kisses along the bare flesh.
    Abandoning her neck, he lifted his head and lowered his gaze to the satin ivory gown which was failing so dismally in its efforts to cover her allure.
    His fingers skimmed the satin neckline, slipping down towards the hollow between her breasts before he cupped the soft fullness of one breast in his hand, the smooth satin a poor barrier between his hand and the bare skin he wanted to ravish. He massaged the generous flesh, then gently tweaked the already erect nipple.
    Bree tilted her head back and sighed, her full lips still parted, her eyelids lowered, desire smouldering in every feature.
    Holding her gaze, he pushed the gown aside and his eyes slid down to admire the smooth curve of her bosom, now fully exposed. A soft cry escaped her lips but she didn’t push him away.
    She tilted her head back and beckoned him with her eyes. Those ey es which had spurned him before now begged him soundlessly to take her.
    Hot sexual yearning burned through his body. Surely she must feel the same.
    Slowly he slid his hand over to her other shoulder, knowing how easily the smooth satin would slip off her fine, smooth skin.
    Would she let him undo the sash and watch the gown fall completely from her body?
    She’d already told him she wasn’t for sale yet she was allowing him to admire the goods, to touch them. She was telling him she wanted him.
    “You see, everything has its price,” he said softly.
    Suddenly her eyes burned not with desire but with anger. “No, Conrad. Not everything has a price.”
    “I didn ’t mean that you were for sale.”
    She pulled the gown across her chest and folded her arms. “I don’t care what you meant. Please leave. I’d like to rest now.”
    “I know you must be tired but I don’t want you to misunderstand.”
    “I understand better than you think. It’s been a tiring trip and I need some time to myself.”
    Conrad took a step back and nodded before turning to leave the room.
    He’d assumed too much. Insulted her.
    He didn’t blame her.
    *          *          *
    Bree lay on the crisp white sheets of the king size bed, knowing sleep was useless. She looked at the clock on the ornate carved Balinese bedside table. It was after one. It’d be a long night if she didn’t get any sleep.
    She’d long ago turned off the air conditioning, preferring the tropical air of Il Bosco to the sterile artificiality of climate control. She’d opened the French doors leading to the balcony which hung over the Chelsea River but there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze. Tonight there would be no respite.
    Pressing her eyes closed, she tried to force herself to sleep though she knew it’d be useless.
    It had been a dreadful evening. Conrad had tried to pursue some polite conversation over dinner and although she’d been thankful there were several other guests at the table with them, she hadn’t felt like being sociable, retiring early to her room.
    T hen again perhaps Conrad had done her a favour by telling her everything had its price. He’d made her feel like a piece of meat, a commodity, something that could be purchased. And in doing that, he’d probably saved her from the mistake of sleeping with him.
    Because that was exactly what had been about to happen.
    After finding out about Trevor and his engagement, she’d decided to do as she pleased on this trip. Decided to take whatever was on offer.
    It was nothing to do with Olivia or winning the Eden Enterprises account. And it wasn’t an act of revenge against Trevor. In the most painful way possible, he’d shown her he’d moved