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The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit (Monte Carlo Affairs #3) Page 22
Author: Emilie Rose

Her blood raced in anticipation of the night ahead—one of only ten they had left in Monaco. Because he’d reserved the room for the entire day and night, Toby had suggested she pack a bag and plan to stay here tonight instead of returning to Hôtel Reynard.

All week Amelia had stubbornly refused to move into his room despite his repeated requests. Tonight she had a surprise for him. She’d not only packed, she had some sexy ammunition that she’d picked up when she’d bought Candace’s negligee at the designer outlet. The teddy was easily the most decadent piece of lingerie Amelia had ever owned.

Convincing Toby he wanted to continue their relationship beyond Monaco wouldn’t be easy, but she couldn’t give up without a fight. She had every intention of using this sumptuous suite and luxurious bath to further her seduction. If she was lucky, he’d return in time to join her in the oversize tub.

She reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, but the sound of male voices coming from the balcony outside the bedroom stilled her hand. The door was partially open and the gauzy curtains undulated in a gentle breeze.

“I can’t believe you did it.”

She identified Vincent’s voice and the smell of cigars and smiled at his compliment. He’d enjoyed the shower even though Candace said he’d protested that real men didn’t attend bridal showers.

“You melted the icy nurse and got her into bed.”

Amelia’s blood ran cold. Icy nurse? Were they talking about her?

“It took you a year to do it,” Vincent continued, “but you won the bet, man. I owe you a grand.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Toby replied.

“Yes, I do. None of the other guys will believe you succeeded. If I hadn’t spotted Amelia coming out of your room this morning, I wouldn’t believe it myself.”

Amelia’s pulse roared in her ears. Her knees weakened and her head swam. Cold formed inside her like an expanding snowball. Gasping, she leaned against the wall to keep from falling.

A bet. Toby had seduced her on a bet.

And she’d fallen in love with him.

Anger replaced humiliation. Outrage quickly followed suit. She wanted to throw something. To scream. To rant. To curse him. But she reined it in. She’d always had her mother’s temper, she realized. The difference was Amelia knew how to control it.

She marched across the bedroom, shoved the sliding glass door wide open.

The men spun to face her.

“You jerk.”

Toby dropped his cigar in the ashtray and slowly rose. “Amelia—”

“You used me.”

Toby’s jaw muscles bunched and his lips flatlined. “I didn’t.”

“How dare you make sport of my feelings? But then, you make sport of your life. I guess breaking my heart is no big deal.” She held up a hand when he tried to speak. “I’m entertainment? A joke between you and your buddies?”

“It isn’t like that.”

“Did you or did you not make a bet to have sex with me?”

She saw the truth in the guilty flush on his face. She’d wanted him to deny it. Pain engulfed her like an avalanche. Cold. Hard. Fast. It pummeled her and left her dizzy.

“That was a long time ago.” He strode toward her, reached for her.

She flinched out of reach. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sugar—”

“I’m not your sugar. I’m not your anything. All I am is another easy lay for NASCAR’s poster boy.”

“You’re not easy. You’re—”

“An idiot. An idiot who fell in love with the man I thought you were. Clearly I was deluded.” Her eyes and throat burned. Terrified she’d break down and cry in front of him, she backed away. “And you’re an even bigger idiot than I am, Toby Haynes. Because I loved you despite your enormous ego, your dangerous occupation and the fact that you’re convinced every woman will leave you like your mother did.”

She gulped a series of breaths and fought to regain her slipping control. “I would have stayed. No matter what.”

He just stared. Silently. The man who talked all the time—even through sex—remained mute.

“You lose, Toby. We both do.” A sob forced its way up her throat. She turned on her unsteady legs, snatched up her purse and overnight bag and ran from the suite like a coward.

This was one battle she wasn’t strong enough to fight.

“That wasn’t pretty,” Vincent said.

“Shut up,” Toby growled and tried to make sense of the sucking void opening inside him.

He ought to go after Amelia. But he didn’t know what to say. He’d done the crime. He had no defense. Even if wanting her had stopped being about the bet a long time ago.

“I’m sorry she overheard. I thought she’d left with the rest of them.”

Unable to untangle his thoughts or his tongue, Toby turned and looked at his friend.

Vincent’s head snapped back as if Toby had punched him. “Shit. You fell for her.”

“Of course not,” Toby denied automatically. But he wasn’t sure if the words were true. He wasn’t sure of anything except that he’d hurt Amelia, and the pain in her eyes shredded him.

She’d said she loved him.

Past tense.

“You fell for her. And I screwed it up. Candace is going to kill me. She’s been trying to get you guys together forever.”

Vincent raked a hand down the unmarred side of his face, and for once Toby couldn’t muster the guilt he felt every time he saw the scars caused by a freak accident behind his pit wall.

He couldn’t feel anything. Numbness invaded him.

He’d made Amelia cry.

During the months he’d hounded her at the hospital he’d seen her lose patients and deal with hell on earth, which is how he’d come to view the burn ward. But he’d never seen Amelia cry. Until now.

He’d hurt her. And he had to fix it.

But he didn’t know how.

Or why it mattered so much.

Thank God she’d caught them.

Amelia raced out of the hotel and right up to the limo as the porter loaded the last of the shower gifts into the trunk. She handed him her bag and joined Candace by the door.

Candace turned. “Did I forget something?”

“Get me out of here.”

“What about your plans to spend the night? And why are you crying?”

Amelia put a hand to her cheeks. Wet. She hadn’t even noticed the tears. “In the car. Please. Let’s go. Hurry.”

“Sure. Okay.” Candace glanced back toward the entrance and then followed Amelia into the plush interior. “Start talking.”

Amelia took a fortifying breath. “Toby slept with me on a bet.”

“Oh, please. He’s crazy about you. And the way he looked at you when he opened his dice…” She fanned her face. “I almost had an orgasm for you.”

“I heard him, Candace. I heard Vincent say it and Toby didn’t deny it.” She accepted a tissue from Candace and blotted her face. “I fell for him and all he wanted was to score.”

The teasing smile faded from Candace’s face. “I’ll skewer his nuts and Vincent’s, too, if he was in on this.”

At the moment, her petite blond friend looked capable of doing exactly that.

“Candace, I can’t go back to Hôtel Reynard. I can’t look Toby in the eye and know I meant nothing to him. I just…I can’t. I need time.”

“Then you’re really in love with him?”

Amelia’s throat clogged, preventing speech. She nodded.

“Amelia, I’ve never seen you as happy as you’ve been this past week. Not even with Neal. Don’t you want to give Toby a chance to explain?”

“I did. Please—help me find another place to stay or I’m going to have to go home.”

“The man is an idiot. He doesn’t deserve you.”

As much as Toby had hurt her, Amelia’s hackles rose at the insult. “He’s not the idiot. I am. We agreed on a temporary affair. Monaco only. I’m the one who had a change of heart. You can’t blame him for not loving me.”

“Of course I can.” Candace pulled out her cell phone. “I think I know of a place where you can stay. One he’d never think to search—assuming he has a conscience and decides to find you and apologize. If he does, you’d better make him grovel.”

But Amelia knew that wasn’t going to happen. She’d been nothing more than a game to Toby.

Game over.

The woman was like a ghost, Toby decided at the brunch he and Amelia were supposedly cohosting. One minute she was there and then, when he tried to reach her, she vanished.

On Friday she’d dodged him at the engagement party held on the world’s largest privately owned yacht, which happened to be moored in Monaco’s harbor. The yacht owners were friends of the Reynards and had expressed interest in sponsoring a race team. Toby hadn’t managed to give a damn. He’d been too busy thinking a person could only run so far on a boat and yet Amelia had escaped him.

Saturday she’d avoided him at the cathedral when the wedding party had met with the officiant for an explanation about the differences between American and French ceremonies. The people of Monaco followed French law and that required a civil service. But Candace and Vincent wanted a religious blessing, too. That meant getting married twice. Toby couldn’t imagine marrying once let alone repeating the mistake.

Talk about double jeopardy.

For an hour he’d sat two yards across the aisle from Amelia. He might as well have been on the other side of the Atlantic. She wouldn’t look at him or speak to him.

When he’d tried to corner her after the preacher wrapped up his long-winded spiel, the bridesmaids had closed ranks and whisked Amelia away on some bridal errand.

The standbys he used with other women weren’t working. He’d tried sending flowers, chocolate and jewelry, but each gift had been returned to his suite. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d never had to work hard with women. Before Amelia, that is.

The schedule he’d copied from Candace’s calendar weeks ago must have been scrapped, because Amelia hadn’t been anywhere she was supposed to be.

The past two days, he’d taken to loitering in the lobby near the penthouse elevator, hoping to catch her when she stepped out, but this morning the concierge had informed him Amelia had moved out of the hotel. He couldn’t say where she’d gone, and none of the bridal party or Vincent would talk.

Toby’s only option was to ambush her at the brunch today, but so far his plans had been thwarted. He hadn’t been able to get close enough to apologize. Amelia had managed to keep herself on the opposite side of the wide flagstone terrace earlier. And then, when they’d come inside to eat, she’d seated herself twelve feet away at the far end of the long dining room table.

He stared at her, willing her to look up, and ground his teeth in frustration. He could work his way through a pack of cars at almost two hundred miles an hour, but he couldn’t get through two dozen guests.

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Emilie Rose's Novels
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