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Mistress By Blackmail(17)

By:Caro LaFever


She stared into his narrowed gaze and realized her protestations were hopeless. He was never going to believe she and Matt hadn’t been a couple. He was never going to let her out of the deal she’d agreed to.

“Have I made myself clear?” He continued down his relentless path.

“I’ll play your game,” she acknowledged. “Still, sharing a bed is going too far.”

He tapped his finger on the desk in exasperation. “Maids talk. My new lover will be of interest. Do you think I’d take a chance of word getting out we had separate bedrooms? This would defeat the entire purpose of you being with me.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

He gave her figure a long perusal from head to toe. A panicked thrill shivered over her skin. “You are small, but not that small. You’ll be very uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care.” She forced the frantic tears back. No matter what, she would not cry in front of this man. Ever.

“I do, carita. I promised you pleasure. Not a painful night on a sofa.”

“I can’t do this,” she cried. “I can’t.”

“You will. Or your father will be in quite a bit of trouble.”

She stood there, breathing in, breathing out. The jumble of emotions and thoughts brewing inside threatened to overwhelm her. The only other time she'd felt this sense of shock, fear, confusion surging in her was when she was seventeen. Seventeen and so, so scared. The memories swirled through her, sweeping over the current emotions in a maelstrom.

“The woman’s complaints have stopped.” Cynicism and scorn oozed from his every word. “I’m relieved.”

She wouldn’t allow herself to walk away from this latest confrontation a loser once more. She had to get at least a piece of his hide. Poke him enough to draw pain. Or she’d never forgive herself. “You don't like women do you?”

“I like them just fine.” He turned and began typing. “In certain areas of my life.”

“I'll rephrase. You don't respect them.”

His gaze landed on her. His eyes were cool, cloaked. “No. In my experience, there is nothing much to respect about a woman.”

Her hands fisted at her sides. The urge to smack him on the side of his head was hard to control. She’d teach him a lesson about respect. If it was the last thing she did, she’d teach him. “What woman did this to you?”

His laugh was harsh. “I'm not talking to you about my past, Ms. Moran. It has nothing to do with you.”

“It certainly—”

“Let's get this straight.” His silver eyes turned to ice. “You are here for one purpose. To keep you away from my brother until he is safely married. We are not in a relationship. I do not have to care what you think of anything I do. You will do what I tell you to do for the next month, and then you can go and do any damn thing you want.”

“What I want is to see Matt. A man who’s ten times the man you are.” She hoped this barb would bite. Bite hard.

“No.” The ice turned to storm clouds, threatening her with certain calamity. “You will never be with Matteo anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”

The bite had clearly bitten him, but he’d struck back with deadly intent. His words cut her heart out of her. Nausea and tears welled in her throat. “Y-y-you can’t stop me.”

The childish lament mixed with the awful stutter only made her feel worse. Feel powerless. Feel like she was a kid all over again.

“I can and I will.” He stated the claim with utter confidence. Turning, he effectively dismissed her. “I will always have your father's criminal activities to keep you in line. Even after we have long parted company.”

The maelstrom inside her roared. She wrapped her shaking arms around her.

“Go to bed, Ms. Moran.” The ice now resided in his voice. “Tomorrow you will start your new role and you better be prepared to please.”





Chapter 4





She slept like a child.

Marcus watched as she slipped one hand under her cheek and whimpered. She was curled on her side, the covers gracing her shoulders, the pink of her silk nightgown highlighting the cream of her neck. Her inky-black hair was a startling contrast to the milk-white of her petal-soft skin in the shadows of the bedroom.

He wanted to touch. He desperately wanted to touch.

Touch once more. Hold her like he had only moments ago, as he lifted her off the floor where he’d found her, and slipped her under the feathery duvet.

The woman’s stubborn determination astounded him and annoyed him.

Yet he'd given one promise to her. And he never broke a promise.

Not even to a woman.

Putting his hands beneath his head to keep them from straying, he stared at the ceiling and willed his erection to subside. He'd had the thought when he'd booked this room that sleeping with her would surely be a promising push towards addressing the sexual heat between them. He hadn't believed her silly declaration in his office.