The Millionaire's Revenge(47)
‘Because all you want is sex?’
Because it’s all I can get and that’s better than nothing. ‘Why not?’ She shrugged and began putting plates and cutlery on the table. Brave words but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the relief in his eyes that she wasn’t going to clutter his high-powered life with unwanted complications. ‘We’re both adults,’ she said with a tight smile, isn’t it good that we understand each other?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gabriel frowned at the computer screen in front of him. He could vaguely register the detailed report staring back at him and the numbers indicating that a takeover made six months previously was beginning to show the profit he had predicted, but his eyes were glazed.
When the phone rang, he leapt at the receiver and grabbed the opportunity to shove his chair back at an angle that offered him a view through the opened door into the sitting room where Laura was busily discussing colours and paints with three men.
He had decided, he had told her, that he needed to be on hand to supervise the beginnings of work being done on the house. This wasn’t a company takeover, he had told her grandly, he was personally involved with this particular purchase, he had to be there for her to consult freely whenever she felt she needed to. When she had drily reminded him of the need to trust his workforce, namely her, he had swept aside the objection with a careless wave of his hand and words to the effect that it would be easier for him to work from the house as opposed to having her travel down every single time she needed to make a decision about something. That was the whole point of communications these days, he had explained, stilling the protest she had been about to utter. E-mail facilities, fax machines, computers allowed total mobility.#p#分页标题#e#
Within twenty-four hours he had moved in lock, stock and barrel, propelled by an urgent need that he himself did not fully comprehend. He just knew that he had to be around her.
Now, he stretched out his long legs on the dining table, which was big enough to implement as his desk, and looked, with satisfaction, at the tall, lithe blonde who was obviously having absolutely no trouble whatsoever in dealing with three of the men she had employed. She needed his presence here like a fish needed a tree, he thought to himself as he went through the motions of dealing with his secretary on the other end of the phone. But she needed his body. Of that there was no question. When the day was done, she would slide into bed with him, warm and willing and insatiable in her demands. It should have been enough. In fact, he knew that he should be tiring of her, getting ready to deliver his final trump card, namely his withdrawal, and thereby complete the business he had set into motion.
When he replaced the receiver, he remained sitting as he was, his fingers linked loosely on his lap, and pondered the niggling question of why her physical acquiescence was proving to be more of a frustration than if she had denied him her body totally.
Because, he reflected, he wanted her mind as well. Did she give tuppence for him at all? Was there anything there for her apart from the great sex? When she chatted to him and laughed at some of the things he said, was it done out of some obscure sense of obligation or duty or, worse, guilt because sex should be accompanied by at least some measure of amicability? Lord, the questions nagged away at him until he finally stood up in utter frustration and strode into the sitting room.
‘What’s going on in here?’ he asked with a strained smile. ‘Anything that I should be aware about?’ Just being within a few feet of her made his fingers itch and he shoved his hands firmly into his pockets whilst he continued to survey the room, now stripped of its wallpaper, in the manner of someone who knew what they were looking at.
‘I’m sorry.’ Laura smiled. ‘Did we disturb you? It must be a little disruptive trying to work in the room opposite. Why don’t you close the door to the dining room?’
‘I did not come here to isolate myself away from what is happening,’ he muttered irritably, his dark eyes sliding across to dwell on the bewitching picture she presented, all ruffled hair and overalls that should have diminished her appeal but instead heightened it. ‘After all, it is my house.’ Had he just said that? A sullen, infantile observation that had her narrowing her eyes fractionally? ‘What are these colours on the walls?’ he asked, pointing at the streaks, and he allowed himself to be carried along with the flow as she began discussing what should be used where, whilst the plasterer made him run his hands along the walls, which would need resurfacing, and the electrician pointed to various sockets and made intelligent sounding remarks about the wiring in the house.