Wanton by Lori Foster

Author:Lori Foster [Foster, Lori]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780373258529
Google: SmpCAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0373258526
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1999-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER EIGHT

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Her face hurt from smiling, her brain hurt from concentrating so hard on appearing insipid, and every muscle in her body ached from the need to hide herself away. In a house this size, it should have been easy. But not once since she’d entered had she been given a private moment. She felt like a piece of raw meat displayed in the market window.

The brown stone structure was heavily guarded, surrounded by a tall, black, wrought-iron fence complete with automatic locking driveway gate and intercoms at every entrance. Guards stood at several windows, both inside and out. Even if she’d wanted to leave, it would have been impossible.

The outfit Shirley had insisted was perfect hadn’t seemed nearly so skimpy in the shop when she’d hurriedly accepted it, as it did now with a largely male audience ogling her ever}‘ move. The black pantsuit had a loose, low-cut crop top that exposed her cleavage and barely hung low enough to conceal the bottom curves of her breasts. It was briefer than many bathing suit bras she’d seen, and since it hung free from her shoulders, she had to be very careful about how she moved.

Paired with the low-riding, hip-hugger pants, it left a lot of midriff bare. The material was raw silk and the slightly flared pants made her legs look longer, especially with the impossibly high-heeled sandals that made merely walking a concerted effort. Dangling gold earring hoops nearly touched her shoulders, and matched the gold chain around her waist, hanging over her exposed navel.

When the men at the party spoke to her, they tended to stare at her belly, or her cleavage. Two of them had the audacity to take her hand and force her into a circle so they could gape at her behind. Several had felt free to stroke her stomach with the backs of their knuckles—and Celia, who thought she’d known all about shame—had nearly closed in on herself. The possessive touches made her stomach turn, and she’d gulped down a few too many drinks trying to shore up her courage.

One thought kept going through her mind: Alec never made her feel like this. His touch excited her and made her tingle and she knew without a doubt he could easily make her beg for his body. But he never would, because what he offered he offered freely and without restriction, respecting her and her desires as natural and healthy.

There was nothing natural or healthy about the way these men looked at her.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Celia?”

She did her best to look awed. “Oh yes, Marc. Everyone is so fascinating. See that man over there? He told me he’s a film producer and said he’d like to see me again! Isn’t that exciting?”

Marc Jacobs smiled benignly. “Wonderful. I knew you’d do well. But I have even better news. A fellow colleague would like to talk to you privately.”

Her heart seemed to shudder and die in midbeat. She stared at him stupidly.

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