Nigel wrapped his arm around Mags’s waist and gave her ass a little pat. “All right, love.”
Trevor stared up into the dark sky. “What have I done to deserve this?”
Mags raised a brow. “Quite a lot of mischief, I imagine. Now stop being so melodramatic, darling, and refill my glass.” She handed her flute to him. “And you, Allie—or is it Allison? Do you need a refill?”
Allie might need more than one to deal with all of these batty Brits. “Yes, champagne sounds lovely.”
Trevor handed Allie a glass before refilling his mom’s. “And it’s Miss Campbell to you, Mother.”
“Nonsense. Let’s eat, darling, or I’m going to expire.” Mags slowly turned toward the house.
“And I’m melodramatic?” Trevor walked over to Allie and placed his hand on her back. She took a page from Mags’s book and jabbed her elbow in his rib. But she wasn’t teasing.
“Umph,” Trevor groaned softly. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Behave yourself, darling, or you won’t get your pudding.”
Allie jerked away from him and hurried inside. He caught up to her and pulled out her chair before taking his seat at the head of the table.
Arnold served the first course, a lemony fish soup, and retreated. She didn’t blame him. Allie wished she could slip away to her room too. The tension coming off Trevor was so thick, it was hard to breathe.
“Son, you must be wondering why we’re here,” Nigel said. “Mmm, this soup is quite nice.”
Trevor leaned his elbow against the armrest of his chair and sipped his scotch. “I’m more curious about when you’ll be leaving.”
Mags placed her hand on Trevor’s arm. “We’re getting married, darling. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, delightful. Who are your victims this time? And is it a double ceremony? That would be quite novel.”
“Don’t be silly, dearest. We’re marrying each other. Again.” Mags grinned, clapping her hands together.
“Well.” Trevor raised his glass. “All the best to you.”
Allie couldn’t understand the anger in his voice. Wasn’t that every child’s fantasy, to see their parents get back together?
“I’d like you to be my best man, Trev.” His father wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe even have a little stag party?”
Trevor threw his head back and laughed. “You must be joking.”
Nigel frowned and Mags pouted. She even managed to make her pout look sexy. Really, the woman had a gift. Maybe that’s why Trevor was immune to Allie’s own eye-batting, lip-biting trick. He’d seen his mother use it too many times.
“I don’t know what’s more amusing, the two of you marrying each other—again—or the fact that you’re doing it in Vegas. Maybe we should lay odds on how long it will last this time.” He raised a brow. “I’ll give it seventeen hours before you’re screaming like a banshee, Mother.” He nodded at his father. “And it will be six weeks at the most before you have your cock inside another woman.”
Allie gasped, but no one noticed.
Still laughing, Trevor raised his glass and drained it. “Yes, cheers to the happy couple.” He pushed back from the table, threw down his napkin, and blew out of the room.
Mags smiled. “Well, he took that better than I expected.”
“Quite,” Nigel said.
With wide eyes, Allie looked to Arnold, who had silently walked back into the room, but he was no help. He wore his professional butler face as he stared at the wall.
“So, Allie darling, how long have you been sleeping with my son?”
***
Once the last dish had been swept from the table, Allie smiled at Mags and Nigel, made her excuses, and all but sprinted out of the room. She didn’t know what to make of them. Time for some answers.
She rapped lightly on the door of Trevor’s office and slipped inside. Without waiting for an invitation, she wandered into the room.
He flicked his eyes from his computer screen. “May I help you, Miss Campbell?” He’d taken off his jacket and tie, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Despite the casual appearance, this wasn’t the man who had kissed her so passionately in the hallway before dinner or showed her the beautiful sunset from the foot of his garden. That Trevor had been replaced by the uncaring businessman she’d first met.
“No, not really.”
“Then why are you here? I’m very busy at the moment.”
Allie walked behind the desk. Leaning over his shoulder, she stared at some sort of spreadsheet filling one of the screens. “Just making sure you weren’t playing solitaire.”
Trevor glanced down her dress. “I can see all the way to your pussy, Miss Campbell. Did you come here to fuck?” His gaze lingered on her breasts.
She recognized his tactic. He always said something shocking when he wanted to push people away. He’d done it with his parents at dinner, and now it was her turn.
She straightened. “I came to see if you were all right. And to say I think you’re an ass.”
“I’m fine, and duly noted. Please shut the door on your way out.”
Instead of leaving, she parked herself on top of his desk. “No.” Swinging her legs back and forth, her calf brushed his upper arm. “You lied about your parents.” She kicked off her shoes. “Why?”
“I never actually said they were dead. You assumed. And do get down, you’re blocking my monitors.” But he wasn’t looking at the monitors. He was staring at her legs, where the flared skirt had ridden above her knees.
Allie flattened her hands on the hem and raised it another inch. “These monitors?”
Trevor’s steely gaze flew to hers. “Are you toying with me, Miss Campbell?”
Allie’s heart began to pound as she leaned forward. This felt dangerous, like she was walking a very thin line, and with one misstep, she could tumble. Whether Trevor wanted to admit it or not, his parents’ sudden arrival had upset him. She wanted answers, yes, but she also wanted to coax him out of this foul mood so that he’d talk to her. “Maybe,” she teased. “Do you like to be toyed with, Mr. Blake?”
His eyes narrowed at the title. “Do you?” Grabbing hold of her hips, he slid her ass across the desktop until she sat directly in front of him. “Put your feet on the armrests.”
Biting her lip, Allie glanced back at the door. “What if someone comes in? Arnold could interrupt us again.”
“Always a possibility. But you started this game, Miss Campbell. Are you brave enough to finish it?”
Was she? When he looked at her with those gray eyes, so full of sexual promise, she felt brave, powerful. She didn’t know what this was, this insane attraction between them, but she wanted to explore it. Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Allie placed the toes of one foot onto Trevor’s chair. It caused her skirt to hike up to her hip. Then she propped her other foot on the opposite armrest. Her breath quickened, waiting to see what he’d do next. “Well?”
Trevor let go of her waist and glided his hands down her hips, over her thighs. With the tips of his fingers, he grazed her bare legs before gripping her knees and spreading them even wider. His gaze drifted down her body, idled over her breasts until finally it rested on her covered pussy. “Your knickers are wet.” He let go of one knee to brush his thumb across the lacy triangle of her panties.
Gasping at his delicate touch, Allie gripped the edge of the desk.
Trevor’s eyes darkened as he watched her. “Do you like that, Miss Campbell?”
She nodded.
“Sorry, love, can’t hear you.”
“Yes. I like it when you touch me.”
“When I touch you where?” With his thumb, he pushed aside the elastic and traced over her slick folds. “Here?”
“Yes.” Allie glanced down. Trevor’s tanned arm was a sharp contrast to her ivory skirt. Through the transparent material of her thong, she watched his thumb glide up and down her pussy. “That feels good.”
“Do you want more?”
She was tired of being fingered. He was the one always toying with her. Time to be bold, tell him exactly what she wanted. And she wanted him. Every hard inch. Allie stretched toward him, framed his face with her hands. “Trevor. I really, really want you inside me now. Please tell me you have a condom.”