Love Islands…The Collection. Jane Porter

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СКАЧАТЬ stiffening, she glared at him. Had he already forgotten his despicable and offensive proposal that she be his mistress? Probably. But knowing Malachi, he thought it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. She knew from painful personal experience that he was happy to exploit everything and everyone—even...especially...his own wife—for his own ends. Five years ago he’d used her image. Now he wanted to use her body.

      The thought made her skin smart as though he’d slapped her.

      ‘Don’t flatter yourself. Right now I’m just desperate to get out of this car and away from you.’

      Tipping his head back, Malachi laughed.

      ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re stuck with me.’

      ‘Only for as long as it takes your driver to get me home,’ she snapped.

      There was a short, pulsing silence, and through the rawness of her nerves she felt a drop of quicksilver shoot up her spine as he stared at her assessingly.

      ‘We’ll see.’

      Her body was suddenly stiff and hollow and she felt a crack of fear open inside her.

      ‘No, we will not! This is a one-off, Malachi.’

      He shrugged, the muscles in his shoulders shifting against the fabric of his jacket.

      ‘I see it more as a starting point.’

      She shook her head slowly, her stomach lurching.

      ‘For what? You paying me for sex.’ Anger was flaring inside her once more.

      ‘I just thought we could talk.’

      ‘Look, Malachi, just because I accepted a lift from you, it doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.’ Fury rose up inside her. He was so insensitive. ‘Why would I? After what you said in the restaurant?’ She shook her head, the memory of his words making her hands ball in her lap. ‘You insulted me!’

      He stared at her in silence. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, asking her to be his mistress. Watching her walk towards him, the sight of her gorgeous body pressing against his eyeballs like a hot knife against butter, he’d made up his mind: he had to have her.

      From nowhere, the idea had popped into his head, fully formed. But even now he wasn’t completely sure why he’d actually gone ahead and suggested it to her.

      Shifting in his seat, he gritted his teeth. Of course lust had obviously played a part. But there was more to his decision than just simple biology. When Addie had pitched into his life five years ago he’d seen her as an opportunity, a chance to have what he’d previously discounted as untenable, impossible. Before meeting her he’d never even wanted a wife—only she had been like an itch that wouldn’t stop.

      And then, realising how good she was for his image, it had been easy to persuade himself that she would make the perfect wife, her role in the local charity sector the yin to his yang as a ruthless, self-serving entrepreneur. Crucially, their partnership would help ensure a more positive reception for his new casino in downtown Miami.

      His face stilled. But in the space of six months she’d turned his life inside out: she’d taken his heart and his name and discarded both. Worse, his failed marriage had unleashed a sense of disquiet and doubt that he’d never quite managed to shift, and her defection had left him smarting.

      Now seeing her again, his body was aching with feverish sexual frustration. Persuading her to be his mistress had felt like the perfect solution, for it would solve his hunger and erase the feeling of powerlessness that was the legacy of their doomed relationship.

      His mouth twisted. It was a feeling he loathed more than any other. A grim, painful reminder of a childhood dominated by the dark chaos of his parents’ lives. Addie had seemed like the perfect riposte to their world. Bright, smart, independent—and sexy, of course. Only despite that he’d given her his name, and access to a world of wealth and power, she’d turned out to be just as needy as his parents, only instead of disorder, she brought doubts and accusations.

      Remembering how it had felt when she’d left him—the shock, the humiliation—his mouth tightened. It was a bitter reminder of what happened when he let lust not logic make his decisions. But it wasn’t too late; he could still walk away. Only walking away would feel like cashing in his chips. His eyes narrowed. Besides, her impassioned refusal had simply sharpened his determination to change her mind.

      Only it wasn’t going quite as smoothly as he would like...

      He breathed out slowly. ‘I want you, Addie, and I’m willing to pay to have you.’

      Their eyes met and heat crawled over the skin at the back of her neck. She should have been outraged, and part of her was, for his statement was shocking in its almost carnal brutality. Only she couldn’t deny that another, greater part was trembling with raw, feverish longing.

      It didn’t seem to matter that she was no longer in love with him. He could still make her hands shake and her head spin.

      She lifted her chin. So could a waltzer at a funfair! The difference was that when the ride ended, her heart and her pride would still be intact.

      Gritting her teeth, she conjured up a memory of herself, face puffy with crying, slumped on her sofa beneath a duvet. Remember that, she told herself sternly. No amount of money or sexual gratification was worth those consequences.

      Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, she raised her chin. ‘But you can’t have me, Malachi!’

      She turned and glanced out of the window.

      ‘This probably wasn’t the best idea, so thank you for the lift but perhaps it might be better if you dropped me off here,’ she said stiffly. ‘I can look after myself.’

      Malachi met her gaze. ‘Is that why you’re sitting all that way over there on your own?’

      Watching her bite into her soft lower lip, he felt his groin harden. He could see the conflict in her eyes, could almost feel the nervous jolt of her pulse. She wanted what he wanted, but she couldn’t admit it to herself—let alone him. Maybe it was time to switch tactics.

      He let the silence between them lengthen again and then, shifting round, the better to watch her reaction, he said softly, ‘So, are you demonstrating your independence? Or am I making you nervous?’

      He had chosen his words intentionally, guessing that she would find it impossible not to rise to the implication that somehow he had got under her skin. His assumption was quickly and gratifyingly confirmed as she turned and glared at him, her narrowed gaze two slits of hostile blue.

      ‘Nervous! Why would I be nervous?’

      He shrugged, watching the slow rise of colour in her cheeks and the darkening of her eyes.

      ‘Being here with me...’ he murmured. ‘Alone... There was a time when we couldn’t keep our hands off of one another—’

      He could hear her breathing, short and sharp and shallow, and felt a shivering rush of triumph dart over his skin. She was more than nervous. She was aroused.

      ‘That СКАЧАТЬ