Billionaire’S Bride For Revenge: Billionaire’s Bride for Revenge. Susan Stephens

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ hardly believe how self-conscious she felt sitting before him like this. She spent hours every day with her every move scrutinised by choreographers, fellow dancers, audiences and had long ago learned to tune out the weight of their stares.

      Yet sitting here with Benjamin’s swirling green eyes fixed upon her she was aware of her body in ways she had never been before, could feel the blood pumping through her, heating with each cycle.

      It wasn’t merely herself and the components of her own body that she was freshly aware of, it was Benjamin too, this Lucifer in disguise. The vibrating hairs on her nape and arms strained towards him as if seeking his scent and the heat of his skin, her senses more alert than they had ever been before.

      ‘It just does,’ she said tightly. ‘Why don’t you get yourself something to eat and leave me in peace?’

      ‘I rarely eat in the morning,’ he informed her.

      ‘Cheese late at night then no breakfast...all the ingredients for health problems when you reach middle age.’

      A glimmer came into his eyes. ‘I can assure you I am in peak physical health.’

      She could see that for herself though she would never admit it to him and felt a pang of envy at a life where you could eat any morsel you liked without scrutiny and without having to weigh up its nutritional value or energy-boosting properties.

      Oh, to have the freedom to eat whatever you liked—or not—whenever you liked...

      Benjamin’s phone suddenly buzzed loudly.

      She met his narrowed green eyes the moment before he reached for it.

      ‘It’s an email from Javier,’ he said matter-of-factly.

      Her stomach dropped. ‘Already?’

      He nodded. ‘He has sent a copy to your email too.’

      ‘What does it say?’

      He studied it for a long time before sliding the phone to her.

      The email contained no text. Javier had sent an attachment of two adjoining photos.

      She blinked a number of times before the pictures she was staring at came into focus and their significance made itself clear.

      They had been taken by one of the photographers at the gala who had spotted something intriguing about them leaving together and decided to capture it. The first shot caught the moment when they had paused in the hotel lobby for Benjamin to briefly explain the situation, the other had them walking out of the hotel hand in hand.

      It was the first picture she found herself unable to look away from and, she knew in the pit of her stomach, it was the reason Javier had sent the pictures to her too.

      Benjamin’s face had been mostly obscured but her own features were there for all to see, and all could see her black eyes staring intently into his and her body tilting towards him. They looked like a pair of lovers caught in the midst of a most intimate conversation.

      The blood whooshed up and into her brain.

      That look in her eyes as she’d stared at him...

      Had she really looked at Benjamin like that?

      She covered her mouth, horrified.

      She couldn’t even bring herself to say anything when Benjamin’s large hand stretched across the table to take his phone back from her.

      Freya was so shamed and mortified at the expression captured on her face she feared her vocal cords had been stunned into silence for ever.

      Nothing was said between them until another loud buzzing cut through the silence, a continuous buzz signalling a phone call.

      Benjamin put it on speakerphone.

      His eyes rested on Freya as the gravelly Spanish tones of Javier Casillas filled the room.

      ‘You will not receive a cent from me, you son-of-a-bitch. Keep her. She’s all yours.’

      Then the line went dead.

      This time the silence between them was loud enough for Freya to hear the beats of her thundering heart.

      The room began to spin around her, the high ceiling lowering, the wide walls narrowing.

      She was going to be sick.

      She might very well have been sick had the most outrageous sound she’d ever heard not brought her sharply back to herself and the room back into focus.

      Benjamin, his eyes not once dropping their hold on hers, was laughing.

      ‘How can you think this is funny?’ she asked with a croak, dredging the words from the back of her throat. ‘You’ve lost.’

      And she had lost too. Javier had emailed the pictures to her too as a message. Their engagement was over.

      ‘Lost?’ Benjamin’s face creased with mirth. He threw his head back, his laughter coming in great booms that echoed around her ears. ‘No, ma douce, I have not lost. I told you last night, I cannot lose.’

      It was a struggle to breathe. ‘He’s not going to pay the money.’

      ‘There was only an evens chance that he would. There were only two end scenarios: Javier would pay or he would not. This result is not my preferred one but I can take satisfaction that he will be burning with humiliation at the photographs of us so it is not a loss by any means.’

      ‘Not a loss for you, maybe, but what about me? He’s never going to take me back. You know that, right? These pictures make it look like I was encouraging you...that I was a part of it.’

       Oh, God, that look in her eyes as she’d stared into his...

      There was not an ounce of penitence to be found in his glittering eyes. ‘You don’t have to lose anything, ma douce. Your career is safe. You are one of the most exciting dancers in the world. If Javier is foolish enough to sack you then I guarantee another company will snatch you up.’

      ‘You think I care only about my career?’ she demanded.

      His laugh was merciless. ‘My sister says you are the most driven dancer she has ever met, but if it is the loss of your fiancé that grieves you then I suggest you have a rethink. If he had feelings for you he would have fought for you. If he’d believed in your love he would have fought for you. You should be thanking me. I am saving you from a lifetime of misery.’

      ‘I can assure you, you are not. I told you last night that you don’t know anything about me.’

      ‘If he means that much to you, now is your chance to go to him and plead your case,’ he said sardonically. ‘He has made his choice, which means you are now free to make yours. Say the word and I will arrange transportation to take you back to Madrid. You can be back there by lunch.’

      Rising from her chair, Freya leaned forward to eyeball him. She had never known she could feel such hate for someone. Her heart was СКАЧАТЬ