The Frenchman's Marriage Demand. Chantelle Shaw
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СКАЧАТЬ no business of hers whom he dated, she reminded herself, but the devil in her head was determined to have the last word. ‘Oh, and, Zac,’ she murmured as he strolled towards the door, ‘I’m glad you hadn’t planned on resuming our relationship because I wouldn’t come back to you if you paid me a million pounds.’

      His eyes narrowed on her angry face and then dropped lower, to the frantic rise and fall of her breasts. ‘You’re here now,’ he reminded her silkily.

      ‘Only because you forced me to come—I don’t want to be here.’

      ‘Non, chérie, I can see that.’ The mockery in his voice taunted her long after he had stepped into the hall and closed her door, and with a yelp of impotent fury Freya spun round and stared at her reflection in the full length mirror. No wonder Zac had looked so smug, she thought dismally as she stared at her flushed face. Her pupils had dilated to the size of saucers and her lips were parted, practically begging for him to kiss her, while the hard peaks of her nipples pushing provocatively against her blouse were shameful evidence that he turned her on. Her body had turned traitor from the moment Zac had arrived at the hospital, and to make her humiliation complete it was clear that he was well aware of the effect he had on her.

      Uttering a furious oath at her stupidity, she went to check on Aimee, who was sleeping soundly in one of the guest bedrooms that had now been transformed into a nursery. A temporary nursery, Freya decided firmly. Zac was going to get the shock of his life when he learned that he was Aimee’s father, but she was under no illusion that he would welcome the news and she intended to return to England as soon as possible, before Aimee ever realised that he did not love her.

      She didn’t know what Zac would do after the test result, but she wasn’t holding her breath that he would apologise for misjudging her so terribly. At best she guessed he would offer some sort of financial support for his daughter, but she would put the money in trust for when Aimee was older. She did not want a penny of his fortune for herself and once she was over the temporary setback of her injured wrist, which had partly forced her to come to Monaco with him, she hoped she would never have to set eyes on him again.

      Soon after she had returned to her room the butler Laurent arrived bearing a light, fluffy omelette for her supper. He was unfailingly polite but gave no indication that he remembered her from when she had lived briefly at the penthouse. Presumably her role as Zac’s mistress had been quickly filled, probably by Annalise Dubois, she brooded miserably. Was Zac with Annalise tonight? The thought was enough to ruin her appetite and she toyed with her food before heading for the bathroom where she struggled to shower while keeping her bandaged arm out of the spray. By the time she had finished she felt sick from the pain of her injured wrist and after swallowing a couple of painkillers she crawled into bed, desperate for sleep to swallow her in its comforting folds.

      

      Zac swung his powerful sports car into the underground car park and rode the lift up to the penthouse apartment. Dinner had been an unmitigated disaster, he brooded darkly as he unfastened his tie and shoved it in the pocket of his dinner jacket. Not that it had been Nicole’s fault. She had looked stunning tonight and her low-cut dress with its thigh-high split down one side had left little to his imagination.

      Throughout the meal in one of Monte Carlo’s finest restaurants, she had been on sparkling form and had prattled on endlessly about her life, which seemed to consist of shopping or sunbathing on Daddy’s yacht, and in the rare lulls in her conversation her smile had sent the subtle signals indicating her willingness to spend the night with him.

      It had been their third date, after all, he mused cynically, and the unspoken rules of the game they were both playing dictated that tonight the attractive brunette had expected their relationship to progress to a full-blown sexual affair. But somewhere between the entrée and dessert he had lost his appetite for both the food and his companion, and instead of envisaging Nicole’s tanned, lissom limbs his mind had seemed intent on recalling every detail of Freya’s slender figure.

      He had never known another woman to have such pale skin. It was as if even the sun’s rays had not been permitted to touch her and his hands had been the first to stroke her virginal flesh—as they had, he acknowledged, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in his groin. He had been Freya’s first lover and, if he was honest, sex with her had been an amazing experience he had never come close to repeating with any other woman.

      And he had tried. He’d never professed to be a monk, he conceded sardonically, but sitting in the restaurant with Nicole tonight he’d realised that he did not feel the slightest desire for her and after driving her home he had politely refused her offer of a nightcap. Clearly disappointed, Nicole had eventually accepted his rejection, but he didn’t feel good about it—in fact he felt intensely irritated with himself, life in general, and, at the top of the list, the woman who had managed to disrupt his comfortable existence in less than twenty-four hours.

      With a muttered oath he strode into the penthouse and headed for the lounge and the well-stocked bar, but the sight of Freya curled up on the sofa caused him to halt abruptly. The low coffee table in front of her was littered with books and papers and she was leafing through the pages of a thick folder, so engrossed that she seemed to be unaware of him.

      For a few seconds Zac stood still and allowed his eyes to roam over her mass of blonde hair and perfectly defined heart-shaped face. Her grey silk robe was vaguely familiar from the past and he frowned as he focused on the way the edges had parted to reveal the wisp of silk and lace beneath.

      Every item of clothing he had bought for her when she’d lived with him had been chosen with the express purpose of pleasing him, particularly her nightwear, and his mouth tightened cynically as he wondered whether she had changed into the sexy negligee set deliberately to taunt him. Freya was still absorbed in her books and his irritation upped a notch. Being ignored was a new experience for him and, giving an angry shrug of his shoulders, he stepped into the room.

      Only then did she glance up. ‘Zac…’ She blinked at him and fire surged through his veins when he took in the image of her silky blonde hair framing her flushed face. Her skin was bare of make-up, but somehow that made her sexier, he decided as he studied her closely, noting the dusting of freckles on her nose and the fact that her long eyelashes were tipped with gold. She was staring up at him with her wide witch’s eyes, casting her magic, and with a jolt he realised that he suddenly felt more alive than he had done in months.

      ‘I wasn’t expecting you to wait up for me, chérie,’ he drawled as he crossed to the bar and poured himself a large cognac.

      ‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t,’ she replied shortly. ‘I didn’t even know you would come back tonight.’ She’d lain in bed torturing herself with images of him making love to the woman he had taken to dinner, until she’d given up hoping she’d fall asleep and had dug out her college books.

      Now she stumbled to her feet and clutched the front of her robe that seemed intent on parting to reveal the skimpy excuse for a nightgown underneath. In the rush to pack for the trip to Monaco, she had forgotten several essential items, including the oversized, comfortable tee shirts she usually wore in bed. The nightwear she had left behind at the penthouse had been chosen for seduction rather than sleep, and she blushed when Zac raked his eyes over her in open appreciation.

      ‘Now that you are here, it’s time I left,’ she mumbled, hastily gathering up her books. In her desperation to escape him, she dropped her folder and papers flew everywhere. ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d catch up on some work,’ she babbled when Zac leaned down to gather up the pages and his hand briefly brushed against hers.

      ‘What kind of work?’ he asked curiously. He handed her the sheaf of papers and frowned when she quickly snatched her hand away. ‘You СКАЧАТЬ