Read Online Too Proud to be Bought by Sharon Kendrick - Free Book Online
Authors: Sharon Kendrick
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person.
Was that because she’d had a brief taste of what Nikolai’s life was like—tasted it and liked it—and wasn’t that dangerous?
So stop thinking about it, she told herself fiercely as she slid a chilled plate of truffles onto the table.
Nikolai watched as she bent to pour him coffee and noticed the tiny pinpoints of sweat which were beading her pale brow. Through the cheap white blouse she wore, he could make out the outline of a bra which looked more functional than decorative. His eyes drifted to the appalling, heavy-soled black shoes. And suddenly, he felt bemused. There were a million women who could be his at the snap of a finger—so what was it about this little creature which had so captured his imagination? Surely now that he had seen her for what she really was—a waitress and not a goddess—then his hunger for her would wane and he could forget all about her.
So why the hell did he feel an aching throb of frustration whenever he looked at her?
Crystal suddenly stood up, and gave a rather theatrical yawn. ‘Well, I’m off to sunbathe—anyone else fancy joining me? Sergei—are you coming?’
‘No, not now.’ Shaking his head, Sergei withdrew a phone from his pocket. ‘I have to talk business.’
Crystal turned her head to look at her host and her smile changed. ‘How about you, Nikolai? ‘
Nikolai realised that the blonde was gleaming him a hungry look. Now
this
was a textbook predator, he thought as he shook his head. Some glossy accessory of a woman who wore her rich lover’s jewels and then flirted with his younger and more virile associate. Not some pale-faced waitress who hadn’t put a foot wrong since she’d been here.
He watched as Zara piled another set of dishes on her loaded tray and another unexpected stab of conscience hit him. Had he misjudged her? Did he only want her because she had misled him—so that his resulting anger had provided an extra frisson to the sexual hunger he already felt for her? Surely that was the only
logical
explanation?
‘When you’ve finished clearing away you can go, Zara,’ he said abruptly. ‘Just be back to serve cocktails at seven—okay? But until then, you’re free.’
Zara thought how shuttered his face had suddenly become and that there were no traces of lazy sensuality being directed at her now. In fact, he was behaving exactly as an employer
should
behave—dismissing her in that slightly curt manner which seemed to emphasise the differences in their status. And if she was experiencing a sudden pang of disappointment because that brief intimacy between them had faded, then she should be ashamed of herself. She gave a little nod. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Back in her room, Zara pulled off her hot uniform and hung it in the wardrobe with a sigh of relief. She had come through her first test unscathed and now shehad a free afternoon ahead of her. How free was free? she wondered as she splashed cold water onto her face. Free enough to slip on a pair of shorts and to wander around this Mediterranean paradise of his?
But there were unspoken rules in her job. You merged into the background and became invisible. You certainly didn’t sunbathe in the grounds of a client’s mansion, no matter how extensive they might be. Imagine the embarrassment of being discovered sprawled out, half naked and covered in suncream! Instead, she opened up the guidebook she’d bought at the airport that morning and saw that there was a picturesque little village close enough for her to reach by foot. Her eyes scanned the tempting photos as she read up about St Jean Gardet—one of those tiny, magical places up in the mountains, which looked as if it hadn’t changed for decades.
No one except the man at the main security gates saw her as she slipped out of the grounds and felt the warm breeze on her face as she set off. She walked upwards through the scented hills, hearing nothing other than the occasional bleat of a goat or the whispery buzz of
Was that because she’d had a brief taste of what Nikolai’s life was like—tasted it and liked it—and wasn’t that dangerous?
So stop thinking about it, she told herself fiercely as she slid a chilled plate of truffles onto the table.
Nikolai watched as she bent to pour him coffee and noticed the tiny pinpoints of sweat which were beading her pale brow. Through the cheap white blouse she wore, he could make out the outline of a bra which looked more functional than decorative. His eyes drifted to the appalling, heavy-soled black shoes. And suddenly, he felt bemused. There were a million women who could be his at the snap of a finger—so what was it about this little creature which had so captured his imagination? Surely now that he had seen her for what she really was—a waitress and not a goddess—then his hunger for her would wane and he could forget all about her.
So why the hell did he feel an aching throb of frustration whenever he looked at her?
Crystal suddenly stood up, and gave a rather theatrical yawn. ‘Well, I’m off to sunbathe—anyone else fancy joining me? Sergei—are you coming?’
‘No, not now.’ Shaking his head, Sergei withdrew a phone from his pocket. ‘I have to talk business.’
Crystal turned her head to look at her host and her smile changed. ‘How about you, Nikolai? ‘
Nikolai realised that the blonde was gleaming him a hungry look. Now
this
was a textbook predator, he thought as he shook his head. Some glossy accessory of a woman who wore her rich lover’s jewels and then flirted with his younger and more virile associate. Not some pale-faced waitress who hadn’t put a foot wrong since she’d been here.
He watched as Zara piled another set of dishes on her loaded tray and another unexpected stab of conscience hit him. Had he misjudged her? Did he only want her because she had misled him—so that his resulting anger had provided an extra frisson to the sexual hunger he already felt for her? Surely that was the only
logical
explanation?
‘When you’ve finished clearing away you can go, Zara,’ he said abruptly. ‘Just be back to serve cocktails at seven—okay? But until then, you’re free.’
Zara thought how shuttered his face had suddenly become and that there were no traces of lazy sensuality being directed at her now. In fact, he was behaving exactly as an employer
should
behave—dismissing her in that slightly curt manner which seemed to emphasise the differences in their status. And if she was experiencing a sudden pang of disappointment because that brief intimacy between them had faded, then she should be ashamed of herself. She gave a little nod. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Back in her room, Zara pulled off her hot uniform and hung it in the wardrobe with a sigh of relief. She had come through her first test unscathed and now shehad a free afternoon ahead of her. How free was free? she wondered as she splashed cold water onto her face. Free enough to slip on a pair of shorts and to wander around this Mediterranean paradise of his?
But there were unspoken rules in her job. You merged into the background and became invisible. You certainly didn’t sunbathe in the grounds of a client’s mansion, no matter how extensive they might be. Imagine the embarrassment of being discovered sprawled out, half naked and covered in suncream! Instead, she opened up the guidebook she’d bought at the airport that morning and saw that there was a picturesque little village close enough for her to reach by foot. Her eyes scanned the tempting photos as she read up about St Jean Gardet—one of those tiny, magical places up in the mountains, which looked as if it hadn’t changed for decades.
No one except the man at the main security gates saw her as she slipped out of the grounds and felt the warm breeze on her face as she set off. She walked upwards through the scented hills, hearing nothing other than the occasional bleat of a goat or the whispery buzz of
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