Taken By The Maverick Millionaire. Anna Cleary
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The limo took a turn towards the eastern suburbs. She struggled to think of some compelling reason for them to turn back. ‘Don’t you have things you want to say to your guests,’ she tried in desperation, ‘to thank them? You know, for their concern, and their good wishes?’
A tinge of amusement crossed his face. ‘Those self-indulgent sink-holes of the nation’s wealth? No, I’m more interested in the things I want to say to you. But now you remind me…’ He pressed something in the pleated silk wall and a door slid open, revealing an elegant little cabinet containing decanters and glasses. He selected a crystal balloon glass and poured a drop into it of pure liquid amber. ‘Cognac?’
To be honest, she wasn’t very good with alcohol. It had a tendency to go straight to her head. But when was the last time she’d been in a travelling pasha’s den with a billionaire? She accepted the balloon with as casual a nod as if she drank the stuff every day of the week, and stole a glance into its depths. Fire glowed in it, and it seemed to be alive with a strange, electric beauty. She inhaled, and the intoxicating aroma rose to fill her head.
She risked a tiny sip. It melted into her lips, and suffused her mouth and throat with a seductive, tingling warmth that irradiated her entire being like the rays of the sun on a winter’s morn.
Her eyes watered with the effort of trying not to cough, but she still had to, anyway.
He waited for her to recover, an amused quirk disturbing the stern line of his chiselled mouth. ‘I want to make a deal with you.’
‘What sort of a deal?’ Though warmed by the cognac, she reminded herself to be cautious. She said hoarsely, ‘I hope you know nothing will tempt me to compromise my journalistic standards.’
He broke into a laugh. It lit his eyes and made them crinkle up at the corners. ‘What standards?’ Then he caught her glance and his face grew solemn. ‘I would never try to tempt you from your standards, Cate. But I can give you something you want, and you can give me something I need.’
‘Really? What’s that?’ The cognac, or maybe his deep laugh, had melted into her bloodstream and infused her voice with a husky quality she could have done without.
He made a gesture with one bronzed hand. ‘You want your story. I’m prepared to give it to you. First break, even ahead of my own newspapers. Full disclosure of the merger. Interview—photographs—everything.’
Excitement surged to her head. Full disclosure would give her a far more meaningful scoop than a few lines that were light on details, but heavy on hints and guesses. And an actual interview with him! It would take her right up there with Steve and Barbara. She could get Gran into a private hospital and…
She roused herself from her fantasies, and caught him studying her face. His eyes were veiled, but his sexy mouth had edged into a very slight smile, like a wolf with a tasty little goose in its sights. It stirred her misgivings. ‘What’s the catch?’
‘Ah, the catch.’ He straightened up a little, as if to gain more leverage in the contest. ‘The catch is that you must wait for three weeks to publish. If you can’t promise that, I’ll spill the story this afternoon and the merger will collapse.’ He gave her a moment to digest, his eyes intent on her face, then added softly, ‘And then you’ll have nothing to report.’
She frowned. Three weeks was an eternity in publishing. Could she trust him to keep his word? A man with his cool, uncompromising mouth was unlikely to be a slimy liar like Steve. And if she took into account his stunning eyes and that appealing little cleft in his chin—
She fought down a warm tidal surge in her blood. Really she must not focus on his physical attributes. She had to remember he was a shark in the ocean of world affairs, and she needed to keep her head. An unnerving thought struck her. The one thing he did have going for him was the genuine affectio with which he’d talked about his father.
What if he was setting her up to take some sort of revenge for her cutting obituary?
She gave the cognac a wary sip. ‘You must realise that I have to report on the memorial today. You’re not asking me to falsify the truth, are you?’
A muscle tightened in his jaw. ‘I’m asking you to do the ethical thing and limit your report to strictly what was on the record. When my merger goes through you can write what you like.’
He was lounging back on the seat, his long limbs lazily disposed, but despite his casual posture she sensed a waiting stillness in him, as though a lot hung on her acceptance. Again she wondered just how important this merger was to Russell Inc. Was the corporate giant in trouble?
Sad creature that she was, she considered drawing out his suspense, taking her time to agree so as to postpone the moment when he dropped her from the enchanted limo and she plummeted back into ordinary life. A man with such a low opinion of her integrity deserved to be tortured a little.
She sighed. Lucky for him she was cursed with a conscience.
‘Oh, all right,’ she said, leaning back against the cushions.
She could feel his smouldering gaze scorch her from her hair all the way down to her toes. It was flattering to command such a furnace-blast of attention.
‘As well,’ he added in an offhand tone, ‘today you act as my girlfriend. ‘
‘What?’ She sat bolt upright. Shocked at first into a laugh, she stared at him then for incredulous seconds. ‘Are you serious? Do you think anyone would believe that? I know my friends would be amazed, not to mention the newsroom. I mean—don’t get me wrong, but anyone who knows me knows that you’re absolutely the last person on earth I’d ever dream of—’
She broke off in time to realise his lean, harsh face had stiffened. ‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ he said drily, ‘since the feeling is mutual. In fact, your total unsuitability is one of your greatest assets. People will expect me to dump you in five minutes, and I will.’
‘Oh.’ She cast him a glance through her lashes. It was a revelation to discover that a tall, dark sexy super-supremo could be so sensitive. But with his temper, it seemed prudent to humour him a little. ‘Well, if I agreed, what exactly would you expect me to do?’
He shrugged, and gave his cognac a bored swirl. ‘Just walk into the luncheon with me. Hang around. Act—like a girlfriend.’ He sounded so offhand, it hardly seemed like much of a request. ‘You aren’t committed to anyone, are you?’ His eyes fell on her ringless hands.
Committed. Deep down inside her something lurched. Even after more than a year words like that could still throw her.
It was hard to fall from prospective bride straight back into bright, chirpy single. Perhaps because she still saw Steve at work. She knew, though, it probably wasn’t fair to blame him altogether. A young man like him—of course he’d been daunted. He came from a big family and had no concept of how close she and Gran were. Then when Gran had changed overnight from her clever, funny and invincible self and turned into a frail elderly lady, he’d been jealous of the time Cate had had to spend with her.
As always she tried to thrust away thoughts of the scene with Steve the night Gran had been admitted to hospital for tests. His casual words across the hospital bed, devastating for her, near fatal for Gran.
Her own whispered responses, so defensive and emotional.
Gran had been out of it, so they’d thought, but not far enough out.
Her mind shied away from the choking guilt and fear she’d felt when Gran had clutched at her hand and gone into seizure. Why, oh, why hadn’t she put an end to the scene at once? She should never have allowed Steve anywhere near Gran.
He’d apologised later. Grovelled, in fact. Promised the earth if she’d take him back. Even Gran had urged her to relent. But she never would. A strong, instinctive part of her had known that if a man truly loved a woman, he cared for the people she loved.
She clenched her cognac glass. She’d