Читать книгу: «A Private Affair»

CHAPTER TWO

DAMN.

That woman could wear a bedsheet and she’d still be the sexiest lady he’d ever set eyes on. Too bad she was public enemy number one. Or rather, her family—the Golds—were the archenemy of Chaz’s uncle, Tobias King. Chaz had been inducted into the feud via his parents’ deaths when he was nine years old. And again a year ago when family loyalty insisted he take a leave of absence from his thriving social media consultation business to help rebrand and boost sales for the men’s line at King Designs.

All of that came second to the fact that each time he’d been in the company of Riley Gold this past year, she’d treated him like he was part of the Republic and she was a high-ranking official with the Resistance. The thought made Chaz smile, even when his body had already begun to react to seeing her in that tight black dress.

She looked dangerous, desirable and just a little bit frightening. Like a badass goddess in five-inch heels.

Chaz brought the glass to his lips and took a sip of aged whiskey while keeping his gaze leveled on her. She stood across the room, near a highboy table decorated to match the room’s gold-and-black decor. Her hair, which Chaz preferred loose and dancing over her shoulders, was pulled up so that the slender line of her neck was visible. Diamonds sparkled at her ears and matched the triple-tier bracelet on her left wrist. The skewed-neck design of the dress left one delectable tawny-hued shoulder bared, its tight fit outlining the perfection of her curves. Chaz took another swallow from his glass and convinced himself that the fixation he’d had on Riley Gold, for longer than he cared to admit, wasn’t at all foolish or immature.

The man she was speaking to offered her a drink and she accepted, but she would not sip from that glass. If he was correct, and Chaz was ninety-eight percent certain he was, the glass was filled with scotch. Riley did not drink hard liquor. Champagne and red wine were her preference, as were desserts over any other portion of a meal. The fact that he knew those things and too many more to count was probably a little obsessive, but nobody had to know that but him.

“See something you like?”

Chaz didn’t blink at the heavily Italian-accented voice. He did spare a glance to his right, where Franco Vitali now stood.

“I see several things of interest,” Chaz replied.

Franco chuckled. “Even if you were not their biggest competitor in the US, she would not give you the time of day. Her heart has been frozen since the scandal years ago.”

“Not my concern,” Chaz told him. “I like variety.”

He did—normally. Chaz had a general affection for women and gave them his time as the need arose. Which, for the last ten years, seemed to be quite often. Starting with a simple bachelor blog, Chaz had quickly built a social media following that consisted mainly of women trying their best to end his lone-star status. He’d parlayed that success into Conversation Media, a multimillion-dollar social media consulting firm that Chaz was extremely proud to own. Riley, on the other hand, occupied another space in his mind. One he had yet to figure out.

“Me, too,” Franco continued. “Listen, there are dozens of models in my suite. They could not come down as they were not invited. You, my friend, are invited to join me upstairs to bring in the New Year properly.”

Chaz managed a bland grin in Franco’s direction. He’d known the guy for years, as he was one of Italy’s most talented designers. And he had an eye for good art, just like Chaz. But Chaz had never partied with Franco.

“I think I’m good with my own celebration,” Chaz said.

Franco shrugged his slim shoulders. “Suit yourself, compagno.”

Alone once again, Chaz looked across the room only to be disappointed. Riley was gone. It was just as well. At least he’d had a partial dance with her. There could never be anything between them, anyway. His uncle, the feud, his new position at King Designs and the pending success of Chaz’s new venture—ChatMe, a social media platform designed for on-the-go millennials enjoying the single life—stood in the way.

That meant Chaz had better things to do than to nurse thoughts about Riley Gold. He could save those for when he was alone in bed, as he’d been far too often to admit. Finishing his drink, Chaz decided he had time for one more business connection before the New Year rolled in. He was heading toward a well-known fashion magazine editor when he caught a glimpse of that infamous black dress and those long, sexy legs.

Chaz knew he shouldn’t do it. He should continue his trek toward the editor, share a drink and small talk with her while dropping subtle hints about the new men’s collection being debuted at Fashion Week. He should ignore Riley Gold the same way she always tried to ignore him.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t. Which made no sense at all. Chaz never chased a woman.

To be fair, he wasn’t actually doing so now. He was just walking toward the balcony. There was no rule against a man deciding to get some air...in the place that a beautiful woman was doing the same. And it wasn’t because each time he’d seen her tonight she’d been with another man—two other men—who had been standing very close to her. That definitely wasn’t the reason he stepped onto the balcony, because Chaz was not inclined to be jealous of anyone.

She was on the phone with her back to him.

He should walk away now. Just let her do what she did best: freeze people—or rather, him—out for no reason. It was tempting as he stood there and thrust his hands into the front pockets of his pants. There were still plenty of women in the ballroom who he could dance with, have drinks with while the New Year rolled in and maybe even take upstairs to his room for the night. He also hadn’t forgotten Franco’s offer to attend his private party. Again, plenty of willing women. Chaz did not have to stand here and deal with Riley Gold.

But the moment he heard the small hitch in her voice as she’d yelled at whoever she was speaking to, he knew he wasn’t going up to any private party. And he wasn’t going to snag some other woman from the ballroom. He was going to stay right here until he knew Riley was okay.

“Yes,” she continued. “I told him that.”

She was nodding while holding the cell phone to her ear, as if the person she was speaking to could somehow see her.

“I said that, too. Look, RJ, you really didn’t have to call. You should be getting ready for Uncle Harry’s New Year’s Eve party, and not worrying about whether or not I could close the deal. Which, as a matter of fact, I did. Perry will be in New York on January 5 to meet with you and Dad.”

So this was about business. She was speaking to Ronald Gold III, better known as RJ, next in line to sit on the throne at RGF. Chaz almost turned back at that point. Riley’s business was RGF’s business and that did not involve him. He should have known the only thing causing any type of emotional reaction in her would have to do with her family company. All she ever did was work.

“Yes. Thank you. Happy New Year to you, too,” she finished before pulling the phone away from her ear and disconnecting the call.

The wish she’d offered her brother was filled with frustration, and Chaz watched as she leaned over, resting her elbows on the railing. Straight ahead were the Duomo cathedral and glittering lights of the Milanese skyline. A gorgeous sight to behold. But Riley lowered her head and sighed.

Chaz had never seen her this way. Riley Gold was a fierce, intelligent woman who had proved herself as one of the most talented and shrewd businesswomen he’d ever met. If she had a weakness, no one would ever know what it was. If she faltered, nobody would ever witness it. She was gorgeous and on point every second of every day. Until now.

His first instinct was to walk right up, wrap his arms around her waist and revel in the feel of her back pressed against him. He would remind her that there was a time for business and a time for pleasure. Then he would drop a soft kiss on her temple and continue to hold her until she cuddled into his embrace. Then he would...

Chaz cleared his throat and pushed those ridiculous thoughts out of his mind. “Working on New Year’s Eve?” he asked, still standing a short distance away from her.

She jumped, her elbows slipping on the railing so that it appeared she might fall. Chaz didn’t hesitate. He hurried over, wrapping his arm around her waist in the same way he’d just been contemplating, and pulled her back against him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against her temple. “I’ve got you now.”

For a split second Riley enjoyed the comfortable warmth that engulfed her. But when his breath whispered over her skin and the reality of who he was and where they were hit her, she quickly moved out of his grasp.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she spun around to face him. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation? Is that why you were sent to this party?”

While her father liked to entertain conspiracy theories about company espionage, Riley prided herself on being a bit more levelheaded. Besides, Chaz had only worked in brand management for King Designs for the past year. It wouldn’t be his job to hire a new designer, if he even knew enough about the industry to do so. But he had followed her out here for a reason.

“I was concerned when you left the party and I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said and casually folded his arms across his chest.

His legs were slightly spread, so that he looked formidable and enticing all at once. It appeared to be a practiced move—no doubt it was intended to make women swoon because it had a Morris Chestnut feel to it. The fact that Morris was one of Riley’s favorite actors had to be the reason she thought Chaz looked so good standing there.

Riley cleared her throat.

“I’m fine,” she said evenly. “Thank you for your concern, but you can leave now.”

He smiled. A slow and potent action that had her clenching the phone and her purse just a little tighter.

Riley had no idea why this was always her reaction to him. He was just a man, after all. She interacted with a lot of men on a daily basis. There was nothing about Chaz Warren that made him any different from the others. Except maybe the fact that his family was her family’s longest and most detested rival. Still, that never stopped her from reacting to his presence, no matter how hard she tried not to. Even now, the heat that always suffused every part of her when he was around was creeping to the surface. She felt it in her cheeks, in the way her breasts grew fuller and her center began that slow, needy pulsating.

“Not until I’m satisfied you’re not going to jump over the railing because you don’t like your family checking up on your work,” he replied.

“What? Oh, so you were eavesdropping,” she said and frowned.

“You weren’t exactly whispering.”

“It was nothing. And as I stated before, I’m fine,” she said evenly.

Riley took another step back, but not in retreat. She told herself it was self-preservation, something she was very good at.

“Are you afraid of me, Riley?”

Her response was an immediate chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied and attempted to walk around him.

He blocked her path. He didn’t touch her but stood directly in front of her. His gaze was dark and intense, deep brown eyes and thick neat brows staring down at her. Riley didn’t look away.

“You’ve no place to run this time,” he said, his voice going lower. Sexier.

She remained unfazed, at least on the outside. “I don’t run from anything,” she told him. “And I’m not easily intimidated.”

He tilted his head curiously and arched a brow. “Good. Now we can finally get this out of the way.”

He took another step and leaned in before pausing to look down at her hands. Riley had not moved a muscle. She held eye contact with him. A part of her wanted to take another step around him, while another part—the stubborn and inquisitive part—stood still and waited. For what, she wasn’t quite sure. All she knew for certain was that she wanted to know what he was going to do next—almost as much as she wanted Perry Reddleston to come work for RGF.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” she replied.

“Exactly,” he said. “You didn’t tell me to get the hell away from you, nor did you mention calling security. So I’m asking, is your silence a yes?”

Riley licked her now-dry lips. “My silence? What exactly should I respond ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to?”

He didn’t actually need to say it. Riley knew what he was asking. She recalled having a similar conversation with him six months ago.

“This isn’t new, Riley. It’s been brewing between us for years. How long do you plan to keep brushing it off?”