Page 45 of Expose on the Ice
It’s the story of a lifetime, the kind that could make my career.
But at what cost?
I’d been grateful for the distraction of this event, using it as an excuse to put off deciding about the story. Frank had backed off, for now, because he knew the ball would be a good story, but I know eventually I’ll have to decide what to do with the truth I’ve uncovered.
My breath catches in my throat as I see Carter. There he is, standing near the entrance, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored tuxedo. Our eyes meet across the crowd, and for a moment, the world around us seems to fade away.
I can’t help but notice the way the tux accentuates his broad shoulders and lean physique. His dark hair is styled neatly, a far cry from its usual post-game dishevelment. But it’s his eyes that hold me captive – stormy gray and filled with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken.
I watch as his gaze travels over me before his expression hardens once more. I wonder what he’d thought in that brief flash, and I’d have given every dollar in my bank account to find out. Taking a deep breath, I plaster on my most professional smile and make my way towards him.
And he turns away from me.
CARTER
Having seen her for only a moment, I retreat from Lily and head for the door and hit the red carpet. The shouted questions fromreporters feel like an assault on my senses. But that’s nothing compared to the electricity that shoots through me when Lily appears at my side.
"Smile for the cameras, Carter," she murmurs, her lips barely moving.
I grit my teeth and comply, pasting on what I hope is a convincing grin. Lily’s arm brushes against mine as we pose, and I have to fight the urge to flinch. Her presence is a constant reminder of that night at the rink, of the moment of weakness.
"Mr. Knox! Over here! Who’s your date?" a photographer calls.
We turn, and I feel Lily’s hand on my arm. The touch sends a jolt through me, and I tense, hoping she hasn’t noticed. From the corner of my eye, I can see her professional smile, the one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I wonder if anyone else can see the tension simmering beneath the surface.
It had been bad enough seeing her across the room inthatdress.
Most women throw themselves at me. God knows I’ve never had a problem getting laid, but Lily Grant is different. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, so curious, so conflicted, so…argh!
I can’t get her out of my head – that damn dress, and my imagination filling the mystery about what might lie beneath like it was a Stephen Spielberg directed masterpiece…
A barely there lingerie set, all lace and suggestion and invitation…
Her slight – butdelicious– curves.
Her creamy skin…
Inviting mouth…
Everything…
I imagine her naked, running my hands over her tits, hungry. She’d look up at me, desire and challenge warring in her eyes. I’dkiss her, smothering her smartass mouth, and then I’d touch her everywhere.
I know she’d feel like heaven – soft and warm, her skin like silk under my fingers. I can picture her breasts, just enough and perfect, and imagine the weight of them in my hands.
Her hips, that slight curve, would fit against me, and I’d hold her close, feeling her heart beat against mine. God, I want to kiss her. I want to taste her skin, to feel her lips part under mine.
I want to hear her breath catch as I enter, bury myself as deep into her as she’d tried to penetrate my life, my secrets. I want to take all my frustration, built up over years, and expend it in one moment.
She’d take it all and give plenty right back to me. Her hair wild, her body glistening with sweat as she arches beneath me. Would she whimper my name when I made her climax?
Would she?—
"Mr. Knox?" The voice of the reporter cuts through my thoughts.
I clench my jaw, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. I need to get my head on straight and remind myself that she’s a dangerous adversary.
"What?" I say, on autopilot. "Sorry, I missed what you said, it’s loud."