John smirked triumphantly. “Agreed. Thank you.”
“Give me your accountant’s number. I’ll have my people organise the money transfer tomorrow.”
They shook on the deal and Merchant loped off, looking back as if not quite sure what he’d just done.
“Smooth work,” commented Mimi. “Now there’s nothing stopping you. And you got a cut of his profits too.”
“Oh, he’ll renege on that. He doesn’
t want me anywhere near his boardroom. He thinks I’m insane, but he figured, what the hell? I could see it all. The main thing is, he will give us the money.”
“What makes you so sure he won’t go back on his word there as well?”
“It was in the handshake,” John mused. “Clear as day. I’ll have to sign some complicated contract swearing never to reveal that he knows about the satellite effect, no doubt. Why would I tell anyone, though? I couldn’t care less who knows what.”
A sultry tune struck up from the small dance floor orchestra, and John snapped into seduction mode.
“Anyway. Merchant’s in the bag. Now I have to work on getting you in the sack. Dance with me.”
“I…” Mimi could not refuse. She followed his beckoning hands, flying into his chest like a magnet, swirling onto the dance floor in his arms, feeling no more than a doll at his command.
“Summertime,” he murmured along with the music into her ear, “and the living is easy.”
His hand met the bare skin exposed by her plunge-backed dress and pressed into it, keeping her close.
“You can buy your materials tomorrow,” she fluttered, trying as hard as she could to keep in a businesslike frame of mind while they circled the floor. But that scent, that touch, that feeling of need… Oh, it wasn’t easy.
“Materials,” he echoed, using his fingertips to stroke the small of her back, slowly and hypnotically.
“You can finish the machine. You don’t need me anymore. I’ve played my part now. You could let me go.”
Don’t let me go.
“You don’t want that,” John admonished, still stroking, sending warm breathy wavelets into her ear. “That’s not what you want.”
“What do I want then?” Mimi’s challenge was halfhearted. She knew what she wanted. She knew she had to stop wanting it. But she couldn’t.
“You want me.”
“No, I don’t,” she insisted in a high, ragged voice that she knew sounded horribly like a child’s.
“Oh, come on.” His pelvis ground against hers and she began to feel faint. “Who is this helping, all this virginal heroine stuff? Why not get down to it? Enjoy yourself.” He gave her bottom a sly pinch beneath the gauzy silvery dress and she groaned.
“You promised me—”
“I’ve kept my promise. I’ve let Anna go.”
“You promised you wouldn’t keep using sex to try to manipulate me.”
“I’m not using sex to try to manipulate you. I’m trying to manipulate you into sex. There’s a difference.”
His lips were beneath her ear, at the pulse point where she had dabbed expensive perfume. His breath made the drop earring swing lightly.
“I came through for you.”
“I know, and now I want to make you come.”
“Stop…please…”