Free Chambers of Desire: Opus 1 by Sophie Moreau Page B

should have spent last night researching Chambers Funds instead of being sucked into a Friends marathon.
    He pushed his dark hair back from his forehead. “I specialize in stock and currency speculation. Big trades.”
    “You advise people how to invest their money?” I asked.
    “No. I’m in business only for myself.”
    “That makes sense. My Dad invested millions in 2000 when one of these so called fat cats offered a no loss investment plan to him. Of course, he lost millions. In hindsight, it makes complete sense, most of these so called financial advisors are salesmen and are not much better at timing the market. I think most smart people invest for themselves and those financial advisors are just there to sell you things, not look out for your best interests.”
    “I didn’t know you had a background in finance.”
    “No, I—” My eyes drifted to his lips. God, even the shape of his mouth was hypnotizing me. I wanted to hear what he said, but I couldn’t ignore the distraction.
    “I often work from home but I’m constantly watching,” I heard him say, then watched as he pointed to a large flat screen on the side of the wall. “It’s a private network, so I can monitor even the tiniest fluctuations in the market.” The television was filled with stock tickers and myriad charts I noticed changed from moment to moment.
    “But, I gotta say, you are right on as far as the institutions go. I can’t even count how much money I made betting against them. Maybe after this is all over, you can take a few finance courses and get a real job with me.”
    “Oh,” I said. I wished I had paid attention instead of allowing myself to be preoccupied by his sensual mouth. What had gotten in to me?
    “You weren’t listening,” he said, scooting his chaise closer to mine. His voice was low, but not angry. Again, I desperately wished I had grabbed a robe from the bathroom or an extra towel, something to lessen the nakedness. My body was tight and lithe because of years of dancing, but I felt insecure under his scrutiny, wishing I’d skipped dinner the night before. I watched as his eyes dropped from my lips to my legs, and I thought that even if I were dressed in a fur parka, he’d make me feel as if I had nothing on.
    “I was—” I began to protest, but his smile told me not to waste my breath.
    “I feel it, too, Sabrina,” he said, looking directly in my eyes, husky voice sending shivers down my spine. Did my heart just skip an honest to god beat?! Out of habit, I tried to feign innocence.  My mother certainly wouldn’t approve of lust being written all over my face… with barely a square foot of material keeping me decent.
    “Feel what?” I laughed nervously. “I don’t really get all this stock market stuff, I’m sorry.”
    Calvin leaned even closer, closing the gap between us. “Sabrina, I’m not talking about the stock market.”
    He reached his hand across to my lounge chair and placed it gently on my thigh, my skin burning under his touch. I felt my nipples tightening, pressing against the soft bikini top. What was he doing? His thumb stroked my leg slowly, dangerously close to my bikini bottoms, and despite myself I let out a quiet gasp.
    “Look at me,” he instructed, and I raised my gaze to meet his. That sexy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Remember what I said. Nothing happens… until you want it to happen. Don’t worry about understanding every little thing that I do. Your only job is to enjoy yourself during the next three weeks. That’s it.”
    My heart thumped against my chest, bam, bam, bam! “What are you afraid of?” he asked softly, as if he could hear the pounding rhythm against my ribcage.
    “Nothing,” I whispered, but meant everything .
    “ I know you’re nervous. It’s normal,” he said. “In fact, I even prefer it that way, Sabrina.” My mind skipped back again to the artwork at the office. The sensual pain on display. 
    His hand moved from my