Read Fearless Maverick Online

Authors: Robyn Grady

Fearless Maverick (19 page)

 
          
As
the limo rolled into the forecourt, a uniformed doorman strode up and opened
the passenger’s door. Alex assisted her out and together they entered an
establishment where multiple millions were gambled, won and lost, each day.
Moving into the lobby, Alex kept his sunglasses on, surely not because he
thought they might disguise who he was. He couldn’t walk into a room and go
unnoticed anymore than Russell Crowe. From the way her green eyes widened, the
brunette behind the reception desk knew precisely who this handsome guest was.

 
          
After
checking in, they rode a lift to the top, while peering down over the lower
floors through the clear windows of the cabin. When he opened the door of their
penthouse and ushered her inside, overwhelmed, Libby sighed long and loud. She
felt thoroughly spoilt by the plush crimson carpet, extravagant matching window
dressings and sumptuous leather furnishings. But she also felt strangely at
home, or at least more at home than in Alex’s grand Rose Bay residence. His
house was beyond beautiful, but so large and a little sterile for her tastes.
This suite, on the other hand, was big but also had colour and something of a
cosy feel even amid all the crystal and gold fittings. She just knew they’d
have a wonderful time here.

 
          
Alex
wandered up behind her. His arms slid around her waist as his warm lips nuzzled
her ear.

 
          
‘You
like?’

 
          
Smiling,
she nodded. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

 
          
‘I
could extend our reservation.’

 
          
Her
heart leapt, but there was no way. ‘I have to be back in the office Monday.’

 
          
His
hands skimmed down the front of her trousers. ‘No chance of putting back your
appointments?’

 
          
She
didn’t bother to reply. He knew her well enough to understand she would never put
her personal agenda ahead of clients’ prearranged appointments.

 
          
He
chuckled against the sensitive sweep of her neck. ‘I’ll take that as a no. So
until Sunday night, then—’ he eased her around ‘—let’s focus on us.’

 
          
He
tilted her chin up, his mouth covered hers and the effects of his kiss
spiralled through her centre, leaving her weak and instantly wanting. She’d
been right agreeing to come here with Alex today. Every thing felt so perfect.
His body pressed against hers. His words. Most of all, his kiss.

 
          
His
lips left hers slowly but his mouth stayed close. ‘You sure you want to go see
this show? We could always stay in.’

 
          
Libby’s
pulse rate leapt. She was tempted but, ‘I’m sure the tickets weren’t easy to
get a hold of.’

 
          
‘Neither
were you.’ He took her handbag and blindly set it on the lounge while his eyes
smouldered into hers. ‘I’ll order up champagne and we can sip it in bed.’

 
          
In
the middle of another penetrating kiss, Alex’s phone buzzed and he mumbled, ‘Ignore
it.’

 
          
Dreamy,
she murmured back, ‘Could be important.’

 
          
‘Don’t
care.’

 
          
When
the buzz sounded again, however, he groaned and reached for his phone. About to
turn it off, he looked at the message ID and drew in a quick breath.

 
          
‘It’s
Annabelle.’

 
          
He
retrieved the message. When his brows crept in, Libby asked, ‘Is something
wrong?’

 
          
‘She’s
texting to see if I’ll be attending Nathaniel’s wedding next weekend. I’ve
already said I’ll be racing.’

 
          
Libby’s
insides pitched. He meant racing at his all-important Round Four in China.
Holding her stomach, she moved off toward the palm-and-surf-fringed view. She
couldn’t avoid it any longer.

 
          
‘We’re
actually not certain about that yet.’

 
          
Feeling
his eyes boring a hole in her back, Libby waited on tenterhooks. Although from
the get-go she’d known that he’d planned to have her sign off on his injury
before the stipulated six weeks, she’d never agreed to anything. Neither had
she dismissed his goal outright. Nothing was impossible. Similarly nothing was
set in cement.

 
          
In
the preceding weeks, she’d wrangled her way around the issue. Now, for more
reasons than one, she needed to be clear.

 
          
Assuming
her professional mask, she rotated around. ‘Your shoulder is doing extremely
well. But given that your doctor was firm about the time frame for recovery, I
can’t make any decisions for or against just yet.’

 
          
His
eyes narrowed. She could sense his mind ticking over as his chin came slowly up
and he sauntered toward her. ‘You could give me a full evaluation early.’

 
          
‘Your
cuff and lesser muscles have been un der a great deal of strain, and after the
setback yesterday—’

 
          
‘There’s
no reason we can’t go through the exercise, is there?’

 
          
Well

 
          
Cornered,
she exhaled. ‘No. There’s no reason.’

 
          
‘Then
I’d like the evaluation.’ The tension in his jaw eased but his gaze still held
that glint.

 
          
‘I
need you to know that I won’t falsify my records.’ She wouldn’t do that for
anyone for any reason. He must know that.

 
          
His
gaze probed hers and a slight grin hooked one corner of his mouth. ‘Of course
you wouldn’t.’

 
          
As
her heartbeat thudded, she tried to read his eyes.

 
          
When
they’d first met she’d believed she’d had his number. Nothing was taboo when it
came to Alex Wolfe securing what he needed to benefit his racing career,
including seducing his physiotherapist. Remarkably, in the past twenty-four
hours, she’d come to respect Alex. Last night, this morning, flying here this
afternoon, she’d even come to trust him … trust that he wouldn’t intentionally
use or hurt her. Whatever his plans before they’d met, he would never try to
manipulate her now.

 
          
‘When
do you need to let your doctor know?’ she asked.

 
          
‘I
can call him Monday with a standby and give the heads-up as late as Wednesday.’

 
          
She
kept her gaze on his, then eyed his injured shoulder, which looked as magnificent
as the other beneath his casual cream button-down
sans
tie. He’d been superbly fit to begin with. His muscles and
tendons had responded well to her program. In her opinion he wasn’t there yet …

 
          
But
if they had until Wednesday and she tested his shoulder then, holding
absolutely nothing back …

 
          
She
tilted her head. She had to ask.

 
          
‘And
if I decide your shoulder’s not fit to race?’

 
          
He
shrugged. ‘Then we’ll go to my brother’s wedding in London.’

 
          
She
coughed out a laugh, then realised he was serious. ‘You said your other brother’s
hotel is off the coast of
South America
.’

 
          
‘Yes,
but Sebastian owns hotels worldwide. He has another hotel in London, that’s
where the wedding is being held. You have a passport?’

 
          
The
room began to spin. Alex was asking her to a wedding? And not just
any
wedding. A Wolfe family occasion,
with his brothers and the twin sister he so clearly adored. And missed, though
he didn’t want to admit it.

 
          
‘I’d
much rather take you to China with me,’ he added, closing the distance left
separating them. ‘But let’s make the Grande Wolfe Hotel our backup plan. For
now …’ He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. ‘Let’s not wait for
champagne.’

 
          
They
dined in an award-winning restaurant overlooking the casino’s dazzling atrium.
The redwood and granite decor was exquisite, a perfect setting for the haute
cuisine. They enjoyed basil salmon terrine and roast duckling before moving
into the theatre to view a show that equalled in talent and score any lavish
Vegas production.

 
          
Afterward,
when they crossed out into the main area, close to where the gaming took place,
Libby had thought she, at least, should be tired; the previous night had been a
long one and she was an early-to-bed type of girl. And yet this evening had
been so enlivening, the atmosphere so electric, she couldn’t think about
retiring to the quiet of their suite just yet. It was as if her every cell was
on celebratory mode. Particularly when she thought about his suggestion that
she accompany him to the Wolfe wedding. She would get to meet all the
larger-than-life characters she’d heard so much about.

 
          
It
all seemed surreal.

 
          
Of
course, she couldn’t pretend that she was the kind of woman others might expect
to see accompanying Alex to such an event. She didn’t have a manicure every
week, or worry too much about fashion and A-lists. Eventually, she supposed,
word would leak that she and Alex were involved. And when it did, what anyone
else thought wouldn’t matter.

 
          
But
she was thinking too far ahead.

 
          
Slipping
through the crowd, looking like the silver screen’s latest version of James
Bond in his dinner suit, Alex wrapped her arm around his and slid over a wicked
grin.

 
          
‘I
think you ought to wear that gown to therapy Monday morning, doc.’

 
          
Libby
swallowed a laugh. She did feel a little like a princess in this evening dress,
which she’d bought for the physio guest speaker dinner next month. Beneath the
sweetheart neckline, the strapless bodice, which was decorated with beads, fit
snug to the hips. The gold leaf coloured satin skirt fell straight to the floor
and featured an elegant chapel train. Beyond beautiful to wear on a special
evening, however …

 
          
She
arched a brow. ‘It wouldn’t be so practical in your gym.’

 
          
‘Who
cares about practical?’ He came close, nipped her ear and a bevy of tingles
flew through her. ‘Will we put a few in the slot machines?’ he asked, changing
the subject as he tipped away. ‘Or are you more a blackjack fan?’

 
          
‘I
know we’re in a casino, but I don’t gamble. I don’t mind watching the
excitement though.’

 
          
He
studied a croupier sweeping a tower of chips to the house and admitted, ‘Not my
vice either.’ His eyes flashed. ‘I know what I promised we’d do.
Dance
.’

 
          
Libby
stilled. She was so not comfortable with that idea, but she didn’t want to seem
like a coward. Or … inadequate.

 
          
Casting
a quick glance around at patrons enjoying the beating lights and ringing bells,
she hitched up her shoulders and let them drop. ‘I don’t think they have a
dance floor.’

 
          
‘Of
course they do.’ His eyes lighting up, he snapped his fingers. ‘I have an idea.’

 
          
Before
she could object, they were headed toward the reception desk. After leaving her
by an elaborate water feature, he stopped by the concierge and spoke briefly to
a middle-aged man who nodded enthusiastically and handed something over.
Joining her again, Alex snatched a kiss from her cheek.

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