CHAPTER 8

　　Keeping his back to the girl, Casper stared blankly through the glass of the President's Suite down into the stadium, struggling to regain some measure of control after what had undoubtedly been the most exciting sexual encounter of his life. On the pitch below, England had possession of the ball, but for the first time in his life he wasn't in his seat, watching the game.

　　Which was something else that he didn't understand. What the hell was going on?

　　Why wasn't he rushing to watch the game?

　　And since when had he been driven to have raw, uncontrolled sex on a table with an innocent woman? Innocent. Only now was he realising that all the signs had been there. And he'd missed them. Or had he ignored them?

　　Either way, he was fully aware of the irony of the situation. He'd had relationships with some of the world's most beautiful, experienced and sophisticated women, but none of them had made him feel the way she had.