CHAPTER ONE
HE WATCHED her from the safety of distance, annoyed with himself for watching her at all.
She was cavorting in the pool with a group of young bucks, revelling in their admiration, flirting outrageously with all of them.
He couldnât take his eyes off her any more than they could, his narrowed gaze captivated by that long tawny blonde hair, those flashing blue eyes and that lushly laughing mouth.
The laughter died on her lips when one of the young men playfully pulled her under the water. She came up spluttering, struggling to push the mass of thick wet hair out of her face. Whirling away from her admirers, she swam with petulant strokes over to the ladder, where she hauled herself upwards, her nose in the air, water cascading from her curvesâher perfectly proportioned, glisteningly gorgeous curves.
Once out of the pool, she flipped her hair over and slowly wrung it out like a towel, bending forward as she did so, her breasts almost spilling out of her bikini top, which was slightly askew.
He cursed as he felt his flesh automatically respond. She was everything he desiredâand despised. A high-spirited, high-class rich bitch, with beauty to burn, a body to die for, and a soul undoubtedly as spoilt and selfish as sin.
He didnât know her name. He didnât need to. It would be something like Tiffany, or Felicity. Maybe Jacqueline. Perhaps even another Stephany.
Her name didnât matter. She didnât matter. What mattered was that he wasnât yet immune to her type.
God, would he never learn?
His sigh was weary. He should not have come. This sort of empty partying was not for him. Heâd grown past it. He wanted more these days. And he wouldnât find more here.
Putting his drink down on a nearby table, he turned from the window and went in search of his host.
âBut the nightâs still young!â Felix exclaimed when his esteemed guest said his goodbyes.
âSorry,â he returned. âItâs been a long week.â
âYou work too hard at that bank of yours.â
âUndoubtedly.â
âYou should learn to relax more, Marcus,â came the unwelcome advice. âWhy not stay a little while longer? Have another drink and Iâll introduce you to the Montgomery girl.â
âThe Montgomery girl?â
âJustine Montgomery. I saw you watching her a moment ago. Not that I blame you. Sheâs a peach. Ripe and ready for the picking.â
Justine...
Yes, that suited. It had a snooty air to it, just like its owner. As for her being ripe and ready for the picking... Marcus only just managed to suppress a cynical laugh. He had no illusions about the Justine Montgomerys of this world. The odds were sheâd been picked from the tree many years before. Picked and handled and devoured in every way possible.
Heâd met plenty of Justines over the past ten years or so. Heâd even married one.
A small shudder ran through him at the memory.
âI donât think so, Felix. Girls like Miss Montgomery are best admired from a distance.â
âDonât let your marriage to Stephany sour you. Not all women are as fickle or as faithless as her.â
âThank God for that. Though I would hardly categorise Miss Montgomery as a woman. She doesnât look a day over twenty-one.â
âThatâs because she isnât. But so what if sheâs young? Stephany was only twenty-one when you married her, wasnât she?â
âExactly,â came his dry reply.
âYou donât have to marry the girl, you know.â
âOh, yes, I know that. Only too well.â
âThatâs not what I meant. Donât judge the daughter by the father. Grayson Montgomery might be amoral, but Justineâs a very sweet girl.â
Marcusâ laughter was cold and hard. âToo sweet for me, I think. I like my peaches a little less...er... ripe. Still, if I ever run into Miss Montgomery again, Iâll remember your recommendation. Now, I really must go. I have a board meeting first thing tomorrow morning.â
Justine parked her silver Nissan 200SX Sports in the double garage, and zapped the roll-down door shut behind her. Her fatherâs car space was empty and she frowned. Where on earth could he be at midnight on a Sunday night?
A Saturday night would have been different. He played poker with his racing buddies most Saturday nights, to all hours of the morning. It was not unknown for him to stay out all night, going straight to his Sunday golf game without returning home.