Burned by Passion(8)

Okay, thought Blake as he tried not to wish himself anywhere but right here, in the middle of the crowded room filled with people he didn’t know. And yet he found himself searching the large hall for his father or anyone who could rescue him from this aggressive matriarch intent on foisting her evidently fabulous and matured daughter on him even before they’d met - not that he had any intention of meeting her. Finding a wife was not on his agenda on this visit and he didn’t know how to break it to the nice old woman that he wasn’t interested.

At last, he found his dad. Standing close to the arched entrance leading into the capacious room that had been set up for the dinner party. There was a young woman at his side and they were both smiling and talking with a couple who’d only just arrived. Blake almost groaned out loud. Not more guests, surely, he thought in concealed dismay. His father had said ‘small’ but then look at this! The room was filled with no less than fifty people, all intent on having a good time judging from the way they mingled and enjoyed the many drinks on offer.

Blake couldn’t help sending his father one last look that was more of a hidden glare – only for his dark look to fade as his eyes focused on the woman standing next to his father, greeting the guests. He’d barely noticed her before but now she’d turned fully to face him and suddenly something smacked him right where he lived.

Damn! That dress. She had the looks and body the outfit was made for. It was some kind of sheathe in a flattering shade of burgundy that played well on her skin. Hers was a classic beauty with bright brown eyes, ample curves and full, pouty lips promising a raw sensuality that some women were born with. To Blake, her entire body exuded sex appeal and her eyes radiated a sultry, bedroom look that brought the attention of many of the men at the party who couldn’t help but take another look, and then another. And she didn’t even notice. Didn’t know what a bombshell she was just standing there, totally clueless of the effect she had on any male in the vicinity with red blood in his veins.

Some people might consider her a little ‘heavy’ but damn she was heavy in all the right places. Blake had always had a thing for curves and that was something she was amply blessed with. Sure as hell she was pretty - the kind of pretty that smacked you in the guts and made you ache. In places you never even realized a man could ache.

But it was more than the physical; something about her drew him like nothing Blake could explain. It was like an epiphany of the senses which told him his primal side had been awakened and this was a woman he’d like squirming underneath him, taking him deep, giving to him until he’d imprinted his being within the deepest recess of her feminine core.

Right then she threw her head back and laughed gaily, the sound natural, musical and downright...sexy. It carried to him across the room and even over the live classical music. Blake watched the long line of her throat, unadorned except for the thinnest gold chain with some sort of charm hanging at the end. Even the shape of her neck made him throb.

Shit. What the f*ck was wrong with him?

It was then Blake realized he’d been staring at her a full minute. He forced himself to look away even as he cursed beneath his breath, hoping no one had noticed. He shifted his attention back to his aged companion and found she hadn’t even noticed his distracted state and was still rambling on.

So that was his father’s woman friend, thought Blake with slight bemusement. When his father had informed him earlier, before the party, that his long-time partner – a widow he’d been seeing for the past three years would be his hostess for the evening, Blake had visualized someone more his father’s age. But this pretty young thing...she didn’t even look old enough to be a widow. Much less someone appropriate for his father.

He smiled at the way his father had described the affair. This wasn’t the kind of woman you merely ‘saw’. She was the type you went mad over. The type you’d put on lockdown just to keep her all to yourself. A guy could go cave-man on a woman like that; simply fling her over his shoulder and...


But then Blake felt like kicking himself because he never thought that way about women. Never had such a burning need to possess or claim a woman so much that it was like a short-circuit in his brain trying to turn him into a feral beast of prey. He’d never, ever wanted a woman this much and with only one glimpse she’d captivated his senses, making him wonder how his father had done it.

But then Blake grunted. Why wonder? His father was still undeniably handsome, perhaps even irresistible when he had a mind to be. And then there was all that money...

Blake sent the eye-catching woman one more glance and then forced himself to look away again. Her clothes and shoes weren’t cheap, he could tell. She’d definitely be the high maintenance type. The notion of being pampered by a rich older man could certainly appeal to a woman who liked the finer things of life. As he mused darkly, Blake’s eyes fell on a tall, lanky man standing several yards away, who seemed to be eyeing his father as Blake had done. Blake’s smile grew wry as he somehow guessed he was probably some set-aside contender for this woman friend of his dad’s. Just how many more men were in line, pondered Blake humorously.

The grin he’d had on his face slipped though as his father and the woman left the group they were chatting with and were now headed his way.

Blake looked to his side to find Mrs. Wilkins had since excused herself and this forced him to face the approaching couple, keeping his expression neutral as he pinned his eyes on his father. “Great party, Dad,” he said mildly.