CH.87

"I can see you won't be an easy opponent to defeat on this playing field," Zavian said silkily, holding her gaze captive with a look that promised so much more than their innocent game.

Emmeline quickly pulled her tingling hand away, as if she'd been burned by the incendiary contact.

"Do you really expect to win easily against me, Mr. Blackthorn?" She tried to deflect with a teasing quip, though her voice emerged husky and strained.

Zavian moved to take her previous stance, expertly chalking the tip of the cue before tying it between his middle and index finger in an elegant, practiced position befitting his imposing stature and raw masculinity.

The black fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders and chest, the top few buttons opened to reveal a teasing glimpse of his toned skin.

"You seem to have forgotten your terrible, humiliating defeat on the golf course last week, Mrs. Maine," he said, looking every inch the smug, entitled aristocrat used to getting his way.